The Nam Hai may not advertise itself as a holistic resort, but it certainly feels like one. The Hội An-based hotel uses beach cruisers as the main mode of transportation to cross the cobbled lanes, which connect each chamber of the resort like veins. Regardless of where I ride, I keep finding myself at the same place—the Heart of the Earth Spa, though wellness extends into every space of the resort. In my room, I find aromatic oils and a copper singing bowl that, try as I might (and I did) I cannot make sing.
Oanh Ngo, the spa manager at this Four Season resort, can play the singing bowls. Each treatment begins with a crystal singing bowl session meant to play up the open-air layout, helping guests to open up and better absorb the physical, mental, and emotional benefits of the healing.
“What I love about the Nam Hai, is they have a very clearly defined concept: it’s inspired but Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh,” says Ngo of the resort’s spa menu. Ngo grew up in the Dak Lak province of Central Vietnam with those teachings, though she notes that people around the world have been similarly inspired by the monk’s wisdom. “He guides us to connect with ourselves and with nature through stability, creativity, and non-judgement.”
The spa menu is divided into those aforementioned pillars. According to Ngo, treatments in the “stability” category aim to nourish the physical body; “creativity” is designed to release blocks, increase mental and physical flexibility, and release tension; and “non-judgement” approaches allow you to connect back to yourself and to nature, promoting inner peace. Mindfulness is the link, total attention to the present moment, wherever it may find you.
The resort is located 15 minutes from the town of Hoi An, a small but bustling city positioned on the north bank of the Thu Bon River. Hoi An is known for its lanterns, which hang in colorful strands over the streets of ancient town, a traffic-free section of the city. Paper lanterns also glow from the boats that float along the river, inviting visitors to become part of the whimsical, semi-surreal scene. The area’s signature dumplings are shaped like, and named for, blossoming white roses. An hour from the Nam Hai, the My Son Sanctuary showcases Hindu ruins built between the 4th and 13th century, some partially re-bricked, others left in their timeworn state.
Back to stability. Ngo tells me that the Five Elements treatment (her favorite) will help to balance the seven chakras of my body and ground my travel-addled being. After an herbal foot soak and scrub, the 100-minute bodywork session works me out, a welcome development aided by a fresh, property-grown ginger paste slid along the spine for warmth and tension relief, along with vibration from tuning forks to help unblock and recharge. The massage leaves me feeling more human than spirit, and I pedal my bike to the stretch of beach on which the Nam Hai is spread. The sand is fluffy and strewn with small sea shells, the ocean water is warm, and I think of broth, and the pho that I will definitely be ordering for dinner—and perhaps again for breakfast, which is culturally common. Definitely grounded.
The next day, as I lament about my lack of natural singing bowl skill, Wellness Manager Sudha Nair reminds me of the importance of meditation, and of sleep, for maximum mindfulness. (The bowl is simply a tool, after all, and one that requires practice and patience.) "We always give priorities in our life, what is most important. We don’t forget to clean our teeth because we feel that it’s very important. So why can’t we prioritize certain things in our life, like meditation?” asks Nair. “It doesn’t consume much time, you don’t have to pay any money. That is the thing—because it doesn’t consume anything, people consider it a last resort.” To help, Nair will be rolling out a program of targeted meditations over the next year, along with custom plans for guests designed to help them take certain lifestyle practices home.
But still, some things can only be experienced in Vietnam.
While the bike is ideal for exploring the resort, the back of a motorbike is the perfect place from which to view Hoi An. Open rice fields spotted in lotus ponds are threaded with lanes just large enough for grains to dry along the sides. We zoom through as the sun sets. Waiting in town: more lanterns, banh xeo (aka “crispy pancakes;” trust me, eat them), open markets, picturesque alleyways. Incense smoke, teeming streets, temples and pagodas, laughing children. There’s so much to do, to see and smell and eat and experience. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and decide to start right where I am.
