Relearning Rest at Halcyon House

By Amber Hunter

Halcyon House is a tonic for the tired and the touched out. In the pursuit of wellbeing and rejuvenation post-partum, I checked in to take part in the property’s first Wellness Retreat.

In the early phases of motherhood, “rest” became something I bartered for daily. A few moments while the baby sleeps, a quick shower before another feed. Nearly two years on, relaxing still doesn’t feature, and it seems I’ve forgotten the formula. The last two years, for the most part, have been a wonderful, wild adventure, but I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times I felt depleted and defeated. I’ve been breastfeeding for close to two years, and my body and my mind have craved rest.

Halcyon House, my haven for the next few nights, is a 1960s surf motel-turned boutique hotel that was given a new lease on life in 2015 by sisters Siobhan and Elisha Bickle. Drenched in coastal charisma and maximalism, courtesy of Anna Spiro, each of the 22 rooms and suites is layered in eclectic prints, upholstered sofas and bedheads, patterned wallpaper, antique wares, and lived-in vintage finds. There are breezy spaces to lounge and linger with just enough blues and whites to imbue waves of calm. Fresh from a recent spruce, the hotel now boasts an expanded wellness space with a sauna and cold plunge to complement the already-impressive treatment menu.

Halcyon House lives rent-free in my brain. When the chaos of COVID reigned, my husband and I eloped with just a few days’ notice to the seaside hamlet and exchanged vows at sunrise. We had put our safari wedding off four times, and Halyon House soothed the ache of disappointment. For the next three days, we were lulled into a state of reverie. I returned years later to meet India Hicks over a beautiful soiree that gathered a bounty of wonderful women from near and far. The next time I visited, I was heavily pregnant and wallowed in the pool between spa sessions and prawn sandwiches at Paper Daisy – yes, I know, prawns while pregnant. This time, I joined 22 others on the four-day Wellness Retreat, one of a series of events planned this year to kick off their 10th anniversary celebrations. Hosted by Amanda Bisk, elite coach and former Australian pole vaulter, the Wellness Retreat promised daily movement, guided breathwork, a deep dive into gut health, sound healing and pleasures in the form of downtime, spa treatments, sauna and steam sessions, cold plunges and a side of socialising. I needed zero convincing, and a few days later, I was doing headstands before breakfast with strangers.

On the first afternoon, we wandered down onto the empty Cabarita Beach barefoot: a group of friends, a mother and a daughter, and a handful of us on our own. What a sight we would have been from the air: scattered like ants, gorilla-crawling backwards on the beach in the name of bonding. Followed by some belly laughs, burpees and the odd communal tear. While we were all there for something slightly personal, a common thread linked us all: we were tired, overstretched, weighed down by expectation and in need of reprieve. Four days at Halcyon House would prove to be the tonic, and we were all ready to drink the Kool-Aid.

Before I became a mother, I relished the quietness of time alone, able to switch off between projects. I knew how to slow down. During our first beach yoga session, I realised how distracted I had become. Between flows, I had to fix my focus on the horizon where migrating whales burst from the ocean in sprays and thrashing fins just to keep my mind from my inbox. With each morning ritual, I slowly found a familiar groove. At lunch and dinner, we’d gather and reflect. Connecting with new people, mothers in different phases of life, creatives and business owners gave me much-needed social recharge away from trucks, building blocks and most importantly, it kept me from my laptop.

Later, Breathwork Practitioner Natalie Martinot tells us – while we sit perched on pillows on the floor – that that feeling reactive, not responsive, is a sign of breathing wrong. I’m relieved to learn that most of us are in the same camp. Short, shallow breaths in moments of stress or pressure. Cue fight or flight mode. I remember when Saxon was born, I’d stay awake to watch his tummy rise and fall. Natalie assures us that “belly breathing” or diaphragmatic breathing (just like an infant) will induce relaxation, activate the parasympathetic nervous system and oxygenate our blood. It’s also a quick way to lower your heart rate and ward off stress and anxiety.

Natalie then takes us on a Himalayan breathwork journey that lasts a few minutes and follows a series of rhythmic inhales, breath holds, and drawn-out exhales. It’s strangely cathartic. When it ends, Natalie leads us through a guided Vedic meditation. I’m skeptical. My focus shifts from intrigue to trying to escape, and I think she could tell. I decide to stick with it. “So hum” is the mantra we must repeat first out loud, then softly until it recoils from our lips into the back of our brains. I picture an endless loop that peaks and bows to keep my mind from wandering again. Eventually, I sort of settle into it and slowness seeps in. I can’t be sure if I drifted into sleep, but something shifted. My mind was unusually still. I felt weirdly recharged and unexpectedly calm. I suddenly realised I needed another day beside the ocean.

Between bouts of movement and mobility, Halcyon Spa beckoned.

Bouts of movement and mobility on the beach were bookended at Paper Daisy, where chef Andrew Milford served up a produce-rich menu with nourishing regional fare – yellow fin tuna crudo with starfruit, Mitsuba and pomelo, and local flametail snapper with bone butter sauce. Before I knew it, four days had come and gone. That group of strangers on the beach became fast friends. We gathered for coffee before workouts. We washed slow meals down with wine. We laughed, shared our truths, swapped stories and contact details, and we urged one another to reconnect again next year.

On reflection, this Wellness Retreat became less about seeking a brief reprieve beside the ocean – albeit a beautiful one – and more about something lasting. I found perspective and remembered what balance felt like. It recharged my mind and my body in equal measure and, for one of the first times in years, I felt really well, and for the most part, guilt-free.

To book a Halcyon House experience for yourself visit their website.