I spent four days at Asia’s only Michelin-nominated wellness resort, and here’s my verdict

When I tell you I spent four days at Joali Being in the Maldives, I could gloat that it is the only Asian resort to be nominated for the world’s first Michelin Wellness Awards in 2025—yes, that same Michelin star that you’re thinking about. I would add that it’s among Condé Nast Traveller’s Top 10 Destination Spa Resorts in the World for 2025 and it won the World’s Best Spa Design award for the year. I could wax poetic about the Taoist Chi Nei Tsang therapy where the practitioner’s “healing touch” on your navel regulates your Qi (vital energy for the luddites). I could make a case for the Russian Banya where you are gently slapped with red hot birch branches to stir up circulation, or the chakra dance where you open up your spiritual forces by dancing around a seaside bonfire.

But instead, all I will say is: if no one got murdered in The White Lotus S3, it could have been set at Joali Being. This realisation crept up on me as we pulled into the resort on a private sea plane that uses the cerulean-blue Indian Ocean as its runway. At the pier, an entourage of resort staff welcomes us with The White Lotus wave—you know exactly what I’m talking about. One among them is Aan, my personal butler for the vacation, or, as the resort calls her, my Jadugar, the magical fairy who knows everything. The moment we arrive at the oceanside villa—I should say mansion—a pair of beach sandals and snorkel fins await me at the door. Both a UK 7. I turn to Aan in disbelief: how does she know my foot size? (Still wondering!)

Stepping in, the incredible view steals my attention; the living room opens to a private lap pool that leads to a breathtaking white-sand beach. “Look at the ceilings,” Aan says, pointing to the towering biophilic roof, “They are intentionally high to help open up your breathing.” She also adds there are no charging points near the beds to encourage screen detoxes. But unlike HBOs murderous thriller, no one is confiscating your devices at Joali. In fact, if you really want scroll-in-bed time, your Jadugar brings you an extension cord. It’s a minuscule detail, but I love that the resort isn’t screaming at me to be well, only very gently nudging, and this philosophy works better for my “how dare you tell me what to do” brain. You feel me?

Okay, enough with the digressions, I’m ready to experience Joali Being’s philosophy of “weightlessness”. What is this luxe world of self-care that makes a wellness resort Michelin-worthy? Is it really the dream life that Gwyneth Paltrow is sold on? I’m here to bare all and rate my soul-renewing treatments on how woo-woo they really are, the scale is ofc of one to five Goops. Meditation playlist turned on, let’s go:

Day 1: Every single cell in my body is happy?

The mind pillar

I started at Areka, the designated starting point of wellness at Joali, for an assessment with Dr Dhanraj Shetty that will decide which of my four ‘pillars’—mind, microbiome, energy and skin—needs most focus. We started with a bio-resonance machine—you hold two metal rods and it reads the vibration and energy of the cells within your body. If each factor is balanced, the report comes out green, and when it is not, it flashes red. The good news: my result was a clean bill. (Yes, I am just as shook.) The not-so-great news: there were teeny, tiny hesitations on stress levels. Dr Shetty declared it is my mind pillar that needed to be reset. He crafted an itinerary for my time at the resort and prescribed a session each of Japanese watsu and sound healing.

The Turkish hammam

I have to admit, the hammam is the treatment that I underestimated the most. Having experienced the Middle Eastern steam bath in Turkey and South Korea, I was convinced I had already seen the best of it. But my masseuse, Dolma, changed the game. Over 90 minutes, she steamed, soaked, scrubbed, foamed, soaped and washed me—as I lay butt naked on a heated marble bed in a marble room surrounded by marble sinks—until my skin was as soft as butter. At every round, Dolma would fill brass vases with frothy hot water and pour them on me like I am the Jodhaa Bai of the Maldives. And any time my hypersensitive skin turned blush pink, she would bring iced towels and lemon-infused water, fanning me without any prompts. According to Dolma, in her many years as a hammam specialist, I am the only person who has ever fallen asleep while being bathed. Do with that information what you may.

Woo-woo ranking: 4 out of 5 Goops—raised the bar for a hammam and the bio-resonance therapy validated me, so win-win.

Day 2: Repeat after me: this is not a bootcamp

Pilates who?

My favourite part of the day could be something I did not do. Aan had scheduled a 7 am (!) Pilates class for me at the in-house gym—may I add the biggest in the Maldives—and I slept through it. I woke up panicked, expecting missed calls and questions, but there were none. It slowly dawned upon me that wellness retreats have a bad rep of forcing you into routine through strict restrictions and policing. But in a world where I am anyway chasing deadlines and my own expectations, the ease at Joali is really its essence of well-being. See also the breakfast buffet: a delicious spread of cheese, croissants, and cake along with a smoothie bar and a granola counter with house-made Nutella hummus and seed mixes. Shockingly, they don’t lead with Kcals. Instead, each dish highlights which pillar it supports: the antioxidant-rich berry spirulina smoothie was for my mind and microbiome, the bee pollen was for my skin. I cannot emphasise how healing this felt in contrast to the diet-culture-proofed menus we see in wellness cafes.

Sound healing (wait for it)

Around noon, I walked to Seda, the sound therapy cottage at Joali Being, expecting Tibetan healing bowls. Instead, it’s a space with 14 life-size instruments designed by Austrian sound scientist Aurelio Hammer. Throughout the session, no words were exchanged between me and my therapist, but it felt like he knew my deepest vulnerabilities. I was lying still on the acoustic bed as he plucked the strings underneath the bed frame, watching the little hair on my arms crank up from the tactile vibrations. As he built a rhythm, my body eased up until he arrived at the instrument whose sound terrified me. It was a hollow brass bell with a harmless-looking coiled spring but every whip sounded like lightning and sent chills through my body. The healer built momentum, alternating the sound I feared with a sound that brought calm, gently opening me up to my fears. And this may sound (sorry) like a stretch, but I left the room feeling quietly braver.

Woo-woo ranking: 4.5 out of 5 Goops. I have a renewed respect for the sense of sound.

Highlight from my journal: Remember The Bear episode when Richie trails the front-of-house team at a Michelin-star restaurant? He learns that what separates a Michelin-star restaurant and a regular restaurant is how they anticipate the diners’ needs (a Chicago deep dish pizza, in his case), even before they verbalise them. I never truly understood that until I came to this resort. Before I say it, before I can even form the thought, it is here, absolutely no questions asked. I wonder if Aan knows she is my Richie.

Day 3: “A child back in your mother’s womb”

The watsu (warning for extreme dramatism)

During my consultation, Dr Shetty mentioned how some people cried for days after their watsu, while others feel forever changed—so my expectations were through the roof. The scene: you enter a spherical room with an indoor pool attuned to your body temperature. The surrounding walls have calming flora carved in and the ceiling mimics a shimmering sky. My therapist Anish gently cradled me in the water, placing a beaded float pillow under my knees and neck, whispering instructions to “let go and trust”. In a moment, he stretched my arms, bending them to my legs, in another he straightened my back. I was neither asleep nor awake but I felt like a ballerina doing pirouettes I could never dream of on land. I felt safe, tucked in, and still—for the first time in a long time my mind was on pause and everything felt possible. I have never experienced the freeness that the watsu pool brought within me, and, in hindsight, I would do anything to touch that feeling again.

The Indian Ocean

My last day at Joali Being was a whirlwind: after my renewing watsu I sipped on marjoram peppermint tea brewed at the in-house herbology centre, Akhtar, where you can also concoct spritzes and soaps with the fragrance that soothes you. Then, chef Ajay Bharthi hosted a private culinary workshop, making me feel like a chef in the way Brooklyn Beckham is one—you sip, sip in a pretty apron while an expert whips up mind-boggling food. After lunch, Dr Shetty hosted a Pranayam meditation session at the salt cave—no, literally the walls were made of Himalayan salt bricks to open up the lungs. And for the two-tiered grand finale, dinner was a special Indian Ocean-themed buffet set at a star-lit table on the beach. And when I headed back, a warm, bubble bath with bath salts (handpicked for my pillar in focus) awaited me at the villa.

Woo-woo ranking: 10 out of 5 Goops, no one can dull my shine after that watsu.

Woo-woo ranking: 10 out of 5 Goops, no one can dull my shine after that watsu.

Day 4: Goodbye, trigger fish

Snorkelling at departure

Right before the seaplane picked me up to return to real life, Joali’s in-house marine biologist Swift stole me for a snorkelling adventure. We swam with reef sharks, spotted and avoided trigger fish—apparently more deadly than the former—and gushed over the starfish sprawled over colourful corals. And even though this was the most expected experience at the resort, imagine a world where swimming with sharks does not top the list!

Woo-woo ranking: 4 out of 5 Goops. Sure, every resort lets you snorkel, but with a cute, tanned, wavy-haired marine biologist as your guide? Yeah, I thought so.