The last time I interviewed Dr Geraldine Mitton for The Cape Times I was in a gown. It was some years ago while I was on yet another weight-loss programme. At the time, she was the Medical Director of The Hydro at Stellenbosch where I was a regular visitor. What impressed me then was that she had left a top medical position at Groote Schuur to further explore alternative therapies and lifestyle enhancements.

What impressed me this time was something very different. We were dining at the Sante Winelands Hotel and Wellness Centre, part of the five-star Southern Sun Collection in the Paarl-FranschhoekValley. There was lots of activity. The Diners Club wine awards were taking place in the next room while a wedding was being prepared in another, ducks were walking from the pool into the restaurant and there was a busy and constant to-ing and fro-ing. Mitton apologised for the lack of serenity, saying things at Sante were usually hushed.

 The hotel, while stylish, is very relaxed with intimate spaces that offer privacy. If the gown offered to me during my morning’s treatment had fitted, I could happily have worn it for my interview with Mitton in the restaurant. She and I were munching on the Antipasti buffet, which is executive chef Carl van Rooyen’s answer to low-fat, high-health cuisine. I really enjoyed his offering, especially the roasted parsnips, which I’d like to see appear more often on menus.

Another duck waddled in to search for scraps under the buffet table. With a Thatcherite authority, Mitton got up to chase them out. It is hard to judge her age. She has the presence of a grandmother yet the vitality of a woman in her early forties, which is to be expected as she has made youthfulness a serious study and recently published her Anti-Ageing Handbook, in which she offers tips for living longer and in good health. After a second plate of healthy, yet comforting food, I’m ready to relay my harrowing experience of earlier.

Since my first visit to The Hydro I’ve benefited from Thalassotherapy treatments where, after a body scrub and an underwater lymph-drainage massage, an iodine-rich seaweed paste is applied to the body. In order to increase body heat and thus aid absorption, one is wrapped in plastic with the heat turned up. Not only does Thalassotherapy aid slimming by leeching out toxins, it is also rejuvenating – one of the reasons I put up with the relative discomfort of being mummified.

Sante seems driven to set the benchmark for elegant spa treatments. The therapy room -- in fact, the entire spa complex -- is beautifully designed, with strong winelands influences throughout. First stop was the Vichy shower room, where I was exfoliated with a herbal oil and sea-salt scrub. The Vichy shower combines hot with cold jets to increase circulation. I was very glad for the constant supply of disposable underwear. Years ago, when I felt shy of my nakedness, I had this treatment in my bathing costume which, even after years of washing, still smells like cooked seaweed. After the Vichy we moved to another therapy room for the underwater massage. This looks more like Captain Nemo’s sub than a bath. I experienced the high-tech underwater massage and colour therapy, which included progressive lighting through the rainbow spectrum.

Next was the seaweed paste wrap. Technology has advanced since I last experienced this treatment. As I was enclosed by flaps in the custom-designed bed (which, with ingenious hydraulics converts from a solid bed into a water one), I felt myself being engulfed by a warm, womb-like sensation. Although the therapist had talked me through each of the stages of the treatment, my psyche hadn’t been paying attention. With the music up and the lights down, she left me to relax, under wraps, for 20 minutes.

In the sea-scented darkness, I felt as though I was in the primordial swamps of creation. With an urgency energized by the deep subconscious, anxiety replaced the calm, and I began to freak out. First, I tried to free my arms but, being slimy and sweaty, I writhed and couldn’t achieve the required traction to pull myself out. I had to resort to screaming, which brought the therapist back into the room. Even with her next to me, consciously understanding I was totally safe, I was so freaked out by my panic I cut the treatment short.

Mitton was very understanding and explained that most people love the warm security of the womb experience while a small handful of people find it terrifyingly claustrophobic. Perhaps I was reminded of an early birth memory, which, considering I was born through emergency caesarean, could not have been pleasant.  

Once we’d chatted about the healthy benefits of anti-oxidants and discussed why many of the treatments were designed to counteract free radicals, Mitton engaged with me with a generosity I’ve rarely experienced on press outings. Perhaps it was because we had met before or she knew my family from The Hydro, but she managed to get me talking about myself and my dreamy plans of writing a book. With absolutely no benefit to her, she spent almost an hour chatting and brainstorming with me and helped me firm my idea into a clear, publishable proposition. 

The second treatment of the day was Sante’s signature Vinotherapy Cabernet Sauvignon wine-casket bath. Throughout my childhood I would help my father make Passover wine. What began as squishing grapes with our fingers always ended with us knee-deep in Hermitage.  I was expecting something similar but rather found that the grapes’ active ingredient had been extracted and added to the bath. If it weren’t for the half-barrel décor, I would not have known I was bathing in wine. In addition to the colour therapy, which unlike my earlier bath focused mainly on the reds, a magnet ran along the length of my body to balance energy fields.

While very relaxing, I only appreciated the true benefits of the treatments after I arrived back, when friends and family said I looked as if I’d been reborn.

Sante Winelands – Hotel & Wellness Centre. 021-875-8100. www.santewellness.co.za