Elyse Singleton heads to Thailand with one goal: cleanse the mind, soul and any other orifice to be found.

As a child, I loved Gilligan’s Island—castaways surrounded by coconuts, palm trees and huts made of driftwood. So after a hectic year, I decided to take myself to an island paradise: Koh Pha Ngan in Thailand. But while Gilligan’s castaways ate a lot of Maryann’s coconut cream pie, I would be going for a seven day fast.

I had prepared for two weeks before arriving. Imagine living in Shanghai and not being able to drink alcohol or coffee or eat cooked foods. The spirit may be willing, but the flesh is weak—I must admit to a shocking incident involving bread during that period.

When I finally waded ashore, I found my bungalow was total Gilligan’s Island—cantilevered on stilts and complete with a mosquito-netted bed, balcony and my own hammock. The bathroom was underneath, and there I spotted the big hook that holds the bucket for the colonics. My butt cheeks clenched tightly at the mere thought.

A day after arrival, I passed the pH test, and thus found myself condemned to a last supper of salad. At the chill-out center for fasters, we newbies received a talk from Moon, the lovely manager, about how our shirts were dirty and needed to be cleaned complete with graphic pictures of what he had “produced” during one particular colonic.

That night, I had nightmares about the “shake” of psyllium and clay I had to take first thing every morning. It was not so bad except for the thought in my head, “I am drinking dirt. I am drinking dirt.” Day one of the fast, I came face-to-face (so to speak) with the self-administered colonic. During the demonstration, the words “oil,” “tube” and “anus” in the same sentence had made me very nervous. And then when lying there, filling myself up with coffee water, I suddenly noticed a huge spider right above my face. I willed him not to jump for fear of impalement. Another day, a frog sat in my toilet looking up at me. After a week of fasting, poop was no big deal and we talked about it often.

Things got even better when the spa sessions kicked in. For my first treat, I got a Bali scrub and wrap and felt all toasty and spicy wrapped up on a warm bed covered in goo. How bizarre: paying to get naked and have someone slather you in yoghurt.

However, the path of true fasting never did run smooth and on days three and four I hit a slump culminating in a tearful breakdown during yoga class. Sure it was upsetting that I couldn’t hold a downward dog for very long, but this was excessive. A cash trip into the main town of Had Rin was also precarious as there was food everywhere. When I spotted bagels, my mouth began to water. That night, the veggie broth, the much-anticipated treat at the end of each day, just didn’t taste as good. I began to love the shakes.

Finally, on day eight, also known as the day we got to break the fast, my fasting sorority and I headed down to the beach with our bowls of papaya that Moon had prepared especially for us. Food had never tasted so good.

I felt good and looked great—glossy of skin and shiny of eye—and I had dropped six kilograms. Not bad for a week’s holiday.

Travel Tips

Where to stay:

The Sanctuary on Koh Phangan island: www.thesanctuary-kpg.com, info@thesanctuarythailand.com, Tel: (66) 81-271-3614/81-899-2269

How to get there:

Fly from Bangkok to Koh Samui on Bangkok Air and then take a boat to Thong Sala pier or Had Rin pier on Koh Phangan. From there, there are taxi boats to Haad Tien, the beach where The Sanctuary is located.

Where to play:

There are various programs ranging from one to seven days. For the full experience go for the seven-day colonic cleanse all-inclusive package. US$660-1,069 (depending on type of accommodation).

by Elyse Singleton