Is there something wrong with me because I’m not comfortable hugging a handsome stranger named Johan after yoga?
In my defense, I came to Eriro, a new wellness retreat perched atop the Zugspitze mountain in the Austrian Tyrol, to disconnect from the world. I’d been feeling machine-like and lost, victimized by the slog of daily life. The relentless digital dinging had eroded my attention span; finishing a book (and even most movies) was more taxing than a Barry’s class. In my darker moments, I wondered when A.I. would just make me redundant. I hoped it would happen soon.
There’s a lot of research about the power of nature to shake us free of existential dread. Could a solo trip to the mountains restore an ounce of my humanity before I became as cuddly as a bot?
The journey to Eriro was a little extreme. If you happen to live in the ski resort of Ehrwald (population: 2,572), simply board a chairlift and hike a few hundred yards to Eriro’s front door. For those traveling from London or parts east, it requires a flight to Munich, a three-hour journey on two trains (one subway, one commuter), and a 30-minute taxi ride to the lift. If it’s after hours, Eriro’s snowcat will deliver you on the last leg.
But if you really want to slough off the world, that’s the cost of doing business. And bliss sets in quickly. Eriro was a passion project for a group of friends in Ehrwald. They spent a year refurbishing an old chalet into a nine-bedroom hotel and restaurant that, surely soon, will have at least one Michelin star.
Eriro’s interior design hews to nature. At check-in, guests receive a pair of thick wool socks; some (myself included) wear them to dinner. The floors and walls are covered in hand-rolled whorls of locally harvested wool. Room numbers are carved into stones placed by the doors. There’s an abundance of rough-hewn wood, which appears predictably in floors and ceilings, and spontaneously in a narrow bathtub carved from a log. The pencil (provided for journaling purposes) is made from a lightly sanded twig.
But there’s no roughing it here. The plush mattresses covered in gazillion-thread-count bedding encourage nine-hour slumbers. Rooms are kitted out with record players and Marshall speakers to encourage us to immerse ourselves in an album rather than skip through playlists. The herbal tea is harvested from wildflowers in nearby meadows and is served in hand-thrown mugs by a woman who also teaches pottery workshops to guests.
The only screen in the entire place is located in the spa, of all places. Displaying high-resolution photographs of the surrounding vistas, it’s hung in a small room with hay-covered walls and two lounge chairs. This is the kind of thing you just don’t get at a Mandarin Oriental.
And don’t even think about using your phone. The charming general manager gave me the Wi-Fi codes, but only after I asked for them. Eriro’s network is programmed so that it doesn’t pop up automatically, and the signal works only in the guest rooms. These guardrails are a gift. And yet who has the strength to impose them on one’s own?
Eriro is focused on a different kind of connection and is populated with couples who seem to be quite … connected. The day begins with a yoga-inspired class of movement, breath work, and occasional dance, all at the whim of the wellness director, Tatsiana Toumel. Observing the glowing skin, satisfied expressions, and relaxed postures of my fellow guests as we rolled our feet over tennis balls, I sensed that, for many, “coupling” was also on the schedule.
The feel-good fun continues at mealtime. At breakfast, eating my third piece of rye bread slathered in goat cheese and homemade saucisson, I overheard the duo at the table next to me whisper-renewing their vows.
The zero-waste restaurant’s dishes, starting with the buckwheat porridge artfully piled with dehydrated fruit and homemade berry compote, also inspired passion. Chef Alexander Thoss, who trained at the revered farm-to-table restaurant Forsthaus Strelitz, outside of Berlin, has nailed it. His elevated Austrian-mountain cuisine wouldn’t look out of place at Noma, but it’s never cutesy or overwrought. His general playbook is a hearty breakfast (bread, cheese, pickles, sausage, eggs, waffles) and a lightish lunch (flatbread pizza with greens or potato salad topped with schnitzel nuggets). Dinner is where he shows his stuff. One evening’s six-course menu began with consommé and ended with deconstructed apple crumble. Another was simpler: pork loin and root vegetables, charred on a wood-fired grill. The sommelier is passionate about Austrian wines and schnapps, so I indulged him with a glass of biodynamic Grüner Veltliner and was very glad I did.
Over three days, I read two novels and carved my very own gnome out of a block of pine (with a little help from a young carpenter who also fashioned Eriro’s roofs). I forest bathed without having to describe it as “forest bathing,” shuffling through the snow for three hours without encountering another soul.
Tatsiana, who splits her time between Ehrwald and Egypt, also gives treatments that combine massage with body-and-energy work. I’m not sure exactly what went down in those 60 minutes, but she not only tamed my sciatica; she left me in a state of meditation I’d previously achieved only through psychedelics.
I languished in the spa, alternating between the 180-degree Finnish sauna and the fiuhta, which emits the scent of spruce at a moderate sear. I floated in a pool of bubbling water as warm as my blood and did nothing at all but think for at least 30 minutes.
By the end of my stay, I was able to unself-consciously hug Johan to commemorate the end our yoga practice and leave my phone locked in my room for two hours without any teeth gnashing. My twig and I were processing big issues on paper. I spent five minutes brewing my pour-over coffee without wanting to maim someone. I was even disappointed to miss the yodeling lesson.
Plowing back down the mountain, I felt almost human again. An annual trip to Eriro would be ideal, and yet I now know that calm isn’t necessarily so elusive. I just need to find a little patch of forest closer to home. Preferably enjoyed with an excellent glass of Grüner Veltliner.
The writer was a guest of Eriro, where all-inclusive room rates begin at $1,660 per night and cover meals and drinks, full use of the spa, and most experiences
Ashley Baker is the Executive Editor at Air Mail Look
