More than Massage – Ste. Anne’s Spa

By Poppy Wilkinson

Two best friends spend a weekend at the pastoral Ste. Anne’s Spa, a 90-minute drive from Toronto, and discover that getting a glow is about more than exfoliation.

Make yourself at home, seriously

One of the first things we notice at Ste Anne’s is the lack of arbitrary rules about what we can or cannot do. Upon arrival, we’re given white terry cloth robes and invited to wear them all weekend (even to the formal dining room) at this stone farmhouse-turned-spa. The stress of the what-to-wear question is erased entirely. Baggy sweatpants it is. And because the stay is all-inclusive, there’s no need to cart our wallets around either.

There are only a few house rules ­– cellphones are frowned upon in public areas – but the combination of expandable waistbands and a lack of jarring ring tones has a noticeable effect on everyone around us. No one looks grumpy, nor do they care what anyone else looks like. With no one to judge, I stop wearing makeup completely, and Marika doesn’t wash her hair, even after her head is massaged with oil.

When we ask if we can take our still-full wine glasses to our suite after dinner (to enjoy by our personal fireplace), the staff seems surprised we’d even ask. By our second night, we get into the swing of things and, as the sun goes down, we borrow Scrabble to play outside on the patio overlooking the rolling Haldimand Hills and Lake Ontario, with a chilled glass of Kim Crawford unoaked chardonnay.

While the spa isn’t licensed, overnight guests are invited to pop the cork and enjoy a libation of choice (without the marked-up price) anywhere on the property, including the dining room.

You are what you eat

We weren’t looking for a militant regime on our two-day spa getaway. Yes, we wanted to recharge and refresh, but as far as we were concerned, a bit of indulgence might help the cause. We find our chief ally in chef Christopher Ennew, who has created a menu that reflects his belief that total deprivation only leads to temptation.

Deprived we aren’t. From a deconstructed Caesar salad we assemble ourselves to spicy curried shrimp on wilted greens to sumptuous rib-eye steak, every dish is wholesome without being calorie-phobic. The menu, which changes daily, is decadent but also caters to those who have digestive troubles and allergies. Almond-based pizza, anyone?

Well-being is becoming

The focus here is not on plucking, preening or perfecting, though the afterglow of the Botanical Resurfacing Facial is not to be discounted. When we get our itinerary, we have brief giggle about our couple’s massage the next day, then scan through our schedule. While allowing time to walk through the woods of the 500-acre property and to listen to guest author Noah Richler read out loud under the massive maple tree, it also makes room for the spa’s signature Moor Mud bath, a Pilates class and a decadent teatime ritual.

Even though our stay is a short one, by the end of our trip, it feels like we’ve been here a week. In order to promote the art of conversation (and, in fact, the art of silence), the suites have no TVs or phones. Marika and I chat until we fall asleep each night and feel like teens having a sleepover again. But we aren’t the only ones reconnecting.

Flipping through the guest book on our last night, we see what a special place this is for so many people. The book is open on two entries. The first is a note of thanks to the spa from a woman who had recently lost her mother and whose stay helped her to grieve. On the opposite page, a young man recounts how he had just proposed to his fiancée on the grounds. Yes, our facials combined with a foot scrub were pretty amazing, but it’s really the whole package that makes this place more than a spa.

(Poppy Wilkinson is the editor-in-chief of onAir. She last wrote about Vancouver Island.)