Can a wellness retreat actually make you smarter?

Like many wellness-obsessed millennials, my daily routine is practically a meme. I track sleep and workouts on a smartwatch, calculate protein intake according to my goal weight and will try almost anything for better health, from gut supplements to the icy shock of contrast therapy.

Yet for all the attention I lavish on my body, I give less thought to the organ running the operation – the brain – and have come to accept brain fog, a shrinking attention span and chronic overthinking as unavoidable side effects of modern life.

So when I learnt that pioneering holistic retreat Kamalaya Koh Samui had launched a Brain Enhancement programme promising greater mental clarity and long-term cognitive health, I was intrigued.

Not expecting an IQ boost, rather, I wondered whether a brain-focused retreat might help me concentrate better, think more clearly and access fresh ideas without first wading through mental static.

Meditation, exercise and better sleep have long been touted as ways to support brain function. Kamalaya, however, is among the first holistic retreats to build a cognitive wellbeing programme around clinically informed treatments such as neurofeedback and transcranial photobiomodulation, intimidating jargon notwithstanding.

Not going to lie: I had no idea what either involved. But after years of being resolutely “bad” at meditation, I wondered whether a more high-tech intervention might ease my mental fatigue.

So when Kamalaya invited me to try the programme, I found the earliest gap in my calendar and booked a flight to Koh Samui. It was time to give my burnt-out brain a holiday.

A writer’s journey to better cognitive function at a wellness retreat

Kamalaya recommends at least eight days for its Brain Enhancement programme, but my tight schedule earned me approval for a condensed five-day version. The team was clear: this was not a quick fix, but an introduction to therapies whose benefits depend on consistency.

My retreat began with consultations with naturopath Rita Castanhito and Udo Schweizer, the neurofeedback trainer who leads the programme, covering sleep, stress and daily habits.

Then came the moment I had been dreading: having my brain mapped during an EEG and neurofeedback session.

Schweizer fitted a futuristic cap studded with electrodes over my head to measure electrical activity and identify patterns associated with stress, anxiety and cognitive inflexibility. I then played computer games to see how my brain responded. Although he assured me it was not an exam, I still wondered whether it was possible to fail at having a brain.

Thankfully, the verdict was reassuring. My cognitive abilities remained strong. “I wouldn’t describe your brain as a Lamborghini or Ferrari, but more like a Mercedes-Benz or BMW,” he said.

Relieved he had not compared it to a tuk-tuk, which was roughly how I had been feeling, I replied: “I’ll take that.”

The less flattering news was that I was operating under considerable strain. Elevated beta and delta brainwave activity pointed to a mind permanently switched on, prone to poor sleep, fogginess and flagging concentration.

In other words, I was capable but exhausted, which was less a revelation than a clinically validated description of my personality and, I suspect, that of many people in demanding jobs.

How advanced therapies at Kamalaya Koh Samui boost brain health

With the diagnosis in, the work of coaxing my Mercedes brain out of permanent rush-hour mode began. A tightly choreographed schedule of neuroscience-informed and restorative therapies aimed to help me shift between focused performance and deep recovery.

First came neuromodulation, which delivers gentle electrical stimulation to the vagus nerve through electrodes clipped to the earlobes. Used in neurology and psychiatry for conditions including chronic pain, the therapy, which feels like a faint buzz, is also gaining traction in wellness for its potential to ease anxiety and support nervous-system regulation.

Then there was transcranial photobiomodulation, a treatment developed from technology associated with NASA research. I wore a helmet emitting near-infrared light, said to increase blood flow to the brain, support cellular repair and improve mental clarity.

My favourite was NeuroSync sound therapy. Reclined with my feet elevated, I listened to calibrated sound vibrations designed to encourage deep relaxation. Within minutes, I had fallen into one of the most restorative naps I have ever taken.

The effects were neither dramatic nor instantaneous, but by the third day something seemed to be shifting. I found it easier to settle into sustained thought without the usual procession of distractions barging in.

According to Kamalaya general manager Gopal Kumar, the therapies were selected in consultation with neuroscientists and doctors worldwide after almost two years of development. The aim is not to treat neurological disease or promise miracles, but to make preventive brain care part of a broader approach to longevity.

“Our focus is on preventive health and helping people understand that cognitive health deserves the same attention as physical health,” he says. “We often talk about living longer, but true longevity is also about preserving our ability to think clearly, stay emotionally resilient and remain meaningfully engaged with life.”

More than machines

For all its futuristic hardware, the programme does not rely on technology alone. The equipment-based therapies were complemented by IV infusions, craniosacral therapy, acupuncture and cupping to replenish nutrients, release tension and support relaxation.

There was also neuroactive fitness training, which pairs movement with cognitive challenges to improve reaction time, coordination and mental agility. Similar techniques are used by elite athletes, although my session was a humbling lesson in how poorly my mind and body sometimes communicate.

Then came the spa treatments Kamalaya is best known for. An upper-body tension-relief massage eased a persistent headache almost immediately, while a traditional Thai treatment worked through knots in my back I had apparently been carrying for too long.

Even meditation, my long-standing nemesis, proved unexpectedly effective. During one guided session, I learnt to anchor my attention to a single activity rather than let my thoughts ricochet in every direction. For once, I did not feel as though I was failing at sitting still.

It would also be a mistake to underestimate the restorative powers of the setting. Kamalaya is immersed in tropical greenery, with the sea visible through swaying palms and birdsong accompanying most mornings. The food is nourishing without feeling punitive. While guests can follow a detox menu, I was thankfully allowed to eat more freely. Castanhito simply steered me towards higher-protein choices and drinks containing ingredients associated with cognitive support, such as ashwagandha.

The resort’s semi-digital-detox policy reinforces its philosophy of switching off to reconnect. Devices are discouraged in most communal areas, which initially felt mildly inconvenient. After a few days without the drip of notifications, however, my attention felt less fragmented.

On my final day, I returned for another EEG. The changes were modest, but encouraging. According to Schweizer, my brain showed stronger signs of recovery, creativity and self-regulation, with a greater capacity to move out of chronic stress and into restorative states.

The prescription was reassuringly practical, although this is really where the real work begins: committing to regular exercise, sufficient sleep, yoga, mindfulness and time in nature. Where possible, I could continue neurofeedback to strengthen concentration and cognitive flexibility, or challenge my mind with Sudoku and Scrabble.

My favourite recommendation was also the easiest. Whenever my focus fades, I now have official permission to take a 15- to 20-minute nap.

So, did it make me smarter?

I am certain I did not leave smarter in the conventional sense. But what the retreat gave me was something arguably more useful: a clearer, quieter mind.

By my departure, the low-level anxiety that usually hums in the background had receded, at least temporarily. The more convincing proof came when I next opened my laptop. Faced with a blank Word document, I nearly shed a tear of relief when the words began flowing without the usual wrestling match. My concentration held, ideas connected more easily and the mental static softened.

After years of treating exhaustion and distraction as occupational hazards, being able to better access the focus, creativity and mental agility I knew I possessed felt like a meaningful upgrade.

The real test though, is whether I can preserve that clarity through deadlines, notifications and everyday stress. For now, I can say I am still learning to treat focus as something to maintain rather than summon on demand, but at least I am now aware of what I need to do. And no doubt, I am already counting down the days until my next tune-up.