Wellness has become the most overused — and misunderstood — word in luxury travel.
Every hotel has it. Every brochure promises it. Every spa menu is filled with it. And yet, increasingly, what is delivered under the banner of “wellness” can feel anything but calming. In fact, in many cases, it creates more stress than the guest arrived with.
I have been fortunate enough to have wellness treatments in luxury hotels the world over, and there are aspects of a treatment so many elite spa venues get wrong.
After more than two decades reviewing luxury hotels — and experiencing some of the best spas in the world — there is one truth that stands out: the gap between what hotels think wellness is, and what it actually feels like, is widening.
And nowhere is that more obvious than in the spa. The first issue is not design. It is not product. It is not even the treatment itself.
Issues from not training wellness staff in the basics, to offering dried apricots and plain nuts as snacks, and offering alcohol free champagne ( please god, no), and charging extra to use the sauna or pool, there are mistakes happening all over the world and often at some of the world’s biggest name hotels.
It is people.
Luxury spas invest millions into fit-outs — marble, ambient lighting, heated beds, state-of-the-art equipment. But the human element is often undertrained, inconsistent, and in some cases, entirely overlooked. Wellness begins long before the treatment starts. It begins the moment a therapist greets you.
The tone of voice matters. Is it calm, measured, reassuring — or overly scripted, rushed, or uncertain? You can feel it instantly.
Appearance matters too. Not in a superficial sense, but in a way that reflects care and attention to detail. A crumpled uniform, a chipped nail, untidy hair, or a general lack of polish subtly undermines the experience before it has even begun.
And then there are the details no one talks about — but everyone notices.
Fragrance.
Body Odour
Breath.
It may sound confronting, but it is real. A therapist standing close during a facial or massage who is wearing a strong perfume — or worse, has body odour or bad breath — will instantly break the illusion of luxury. You can be lying on a $1,000 treatment bed in a beautifully designed spa, and in one moment, the entire experience is compromised.
These are not small details. They are fundamental. And yet, in many spas, they are not addressed with the rigour they deserve.
User Pays
There is, however, a growing trend at the other end of the spectrum that feels fundamentally at odds with the idea of wellness — and that is the introduction of additional charges for basic spa facilities.
Increasingly, even at the highest end of the market, guests are being asked to pay extra to access spaces that should be considered part of the overall experience.
Saunas. Steam rooms. Relaxation lounges. Pools.
In one Sydney luxury hotel, a one-hour massage is priced at approximately $280 — and yet an additional $80 is required to use the pool if you are not staying in-house. It is difficult to reconcile this with any genuine understanding of wellness.
A spa treatment does not begin and end on the massage table. The ability to arrive early, to sit quietly, to use the sauna, to transition slowly into and out of the experience — these are not add-ons. They are integral.
Charging separately for these elements fragments the experience and, more importantly, shifts the focus from care to transaction.
The most refined spas in the world — again, particularly across Southeast Asia — understand this instinctively. Access is seamless. The experience flows. There is no sense of being timed, monitored or upsold.
Because true luxury wellness is not about extracting more from the guest. It is about giving them space — physically, mentally, and emotionally — to unwind.
And that is something that should never feel conditional. Then comes the treatment itself — and another common misstep.
A lack of communication.
One of the most disarming experiences as a guest is not knowing what is about to happen. You arrive, you change, you lie down — and then you are left to navigate the experience without any clear guidance.
What is this product?
What is this technique?
How long will this stage last? Where will I relax after the treatment?
The best therapists understand that a simple, calm explanation at the beginning transforms the entire experience.
Not a long monologue. Not a clinical breakdown.
Just a clear, reassuring outline:
“This is what we’re going to do, this is how it will feel, and this is how the treatment will progress.” It allows the guest to fully let go — which, ultimately, is the entire point.
Lite Bites.
Another area where luxury hotels consistently get wellness wrong is in the pursuit of being too healthy.
Somewhere along the way, indulgence was replaced with restriction. Sugar-free. Dairy-free. Gluten-free. Guilt-free. And while there is absolutely a place for considered nutrition, wellness is not about deprivation. Give guests the choice.
One of the most memorable spa experiences for me remains the Dior Spa Plaza Athénée, in Paris where I have had a spectacular treatment 3 times. At the end of the treatment, you are presented with a small, beautifully crafted piece of chocolate embossed with the Dior logo.
It is elegant, indulgent, and deeply satisfying. Compare that to the all-too-common offering of a dried apricot, salt free, skin free albino cashew nut or a “healthy” energy ball — items often positioned as virtuous, yet in reality containing much more sugar than a small piece of chocolate. The difference is psychological as much as physical.
The Dior approach says: enjoy this moment.
Many other spas say: restrict yourself, even here.
And that, fundamentally, is not wellness. And champagne is always a good idea. A guest can say no, but offering alcohol free champagne simply is a bad idea. A glass of water is more appropriate than a poor, ugly cousin of one of the world’s most lauded and greatest luxury consumption indulgences on the planet.
The Treatment List
Then there is the spa menu — often presented as a thick, overwhelming document filled with dozens upon dozens of treatments.
On paper, this looks impressive. In reality, it is exhausting.
You arrive already seeking calm, and are immediately asked to make a series of decisions:
Which treatment?
Which oil?
Which pressure?
Which music?
Choice, in excess, becomes noise.
Some of the most refined spa experiences in the world have quietly moved in the opposite direction — simplifying menus, curating experiences, and guiding guests rather than burdening them with options.
Music
The same applies to music.
Being asked to choose between five different soundtracks moments before a treatment begins does not enhance the experience. It disrupts it. Personally, I would rather not be asked at all.
A truly exceptional spa will have already considered the space, the mood, the time of day, and selected the appropriate sound. That is what you are paying for — not to design the experience yourself.
Take A Breath
One of the simplest yet most powerful techniques — and one that is surprisingly underutilised outside of Asia — is the integration of breath.
Some of the most memorable spa experiences I have had, particularly across Thailand, Bali and wider Southeast Asia, begin not with touch, but with a moment of stillness. A therapist will gently guide you to inhale the scent of the oil that will be used in your treatment — slow, deliberate, grounding.
It is a small gesture, but profoundly effective. It signals a transition. You are no longer rushing, thinking, planning. You are arriving — fully — into the experience.
This kind of ritualised beginning is something Southeast Asian spas consistently excel at. There is a reverence to the process, an understanding that wellness is not simply physical, but sensory and emotional. It is something many Western luxury hotels attempt to replicate, but often without the same depth of training or cultural understanding.
And there is much to learn here. Not in a superficial sense — not by simply adding a gong or a bowl of tea — but in genuinely understanding how to guide a guest into a state of calm before the treatment even begins. Because the truth is, wellness at its highest level is not about more.
It is about less, but better.
Fewer choices.
Clearer communication.
Higher standards of personal presentation.
A deeper understanding of how guests actually feel.
There are, of course, many hotels getting this right. Properties where staff are trained not just in technique, but in presence. Where the experience flows seamlessly from arrival to departure. Where every detail — from lighting to language — has been considered through the lens of the guest.
But they are still the exception, not the rule. And that is surprising, given how central wellness has become to the luxury travel narrative. Because when it is done well, a spa experience can be transformative.
And when it is done poorly, it becomes something else entirely — a reminder that luxury, no matter how beautifully designed, is only as good as the people delivering it. Perhaps it is time for hotels to reconsider what wellness really means.
Not as a menu.
Not as a marketing term.
But as a feeling.
A feeling that begins with the smallest details — and ends, ideally, in complete and effortless calm.
*All imagery used here is ai generated for legal reasons.
