LUXE Serendipity magazine

By Donna Richardson

The Mountains Were Calling me…

There is a particular silence in the Austrian Alps that holds space, a silence made of stone, forest, water, and time. The mountains around Leogang do not ask for attention. They simply endure, ancient and composed in a way that makes everything else feel temporary.

Burnt out and lost my spark- I needed this. I was carrying more than I could easily name. Months of work pressure, undiagnosed ADHD, unresolved trauma, grief, and emotional exhaustion had stretched my nervous system beyond capacity. The recent loss of a close family member to cancer reopened the older wound of losing my mother almost twenty years ago. Then, days before departure, I was mugged, leaving me feeling internally dislocated, as though my mind and body were no longer moving together.

I was so excited and nervous at the same time. Having suffered panic attacks in the past – I wanted to find out why this tends to happen when all I want to do is connect. I was here to find some answers. I’ve been on spiritual retreats before and they worked in some ways but this new medical facility could just be the antidote to my current stresses and help me make some lifechanging alterations..

Health is in the mind as well as the body. They say – the body keeps the score. As a travel journalist I am very lucky to be invited on some wonderful press trips and this was a beautifully serendipitous opportunity that seemed to arrive at just the right time – the group were all lovely, but for some reason I was in self-sabotage – and while I wanted to switch off -mentally and have a true digital and spiritual detox – but something was blocking me and feelings of self-sabotage were starting to creep in..

For a long time, I have been worried about my weight and gut-brain axis, so the first thing I did when we arrived was order a beauty drink, full of antioxidants and vitamins, which instantly made me feel better. I also walked outside and took a big gulp of mountain air. Anxiety means that I sometimes forget to breathe properly, and so I booked in for a hypoxic session to help myself have the best chance at regulating my breathing and calming myself down while also making my body work harder during exercise. My thoughts tend to race at a thousand miles an hour so I wanted to slow down my mind and body, and here was the perfect place to do that.

By the time I reached Gatwick, I was overwhelmed. Airports usually excite me – movement, possibility, transition – but this time everything felt invasive: fluorescent lights, announcements, security checks, endless notifications. I blocked my messages to create space inside my own head – a complete digital detox. Just me and the mountains.

A school group moved through the terminal carrying instruments and a kind of chaotic joy. Later, after we landed in Austria, amidst security checks and paperwork, I heard them before I saw them. One voice rose first, then another, until they were singing together. The Sound of Music drifted through the airport before Ave Maria landed somewhere much deeper. My breath caught. I cried quietly. It wasn’t sadness alone, but recognition – the feeling of something inside me being met without explanation. Life had become too fast. I had been missing a connection and, without knowing it, I had been searching for a way back to myself.

As we travelled deeper into SalzburgerLand, forests thickened, light softened, and the mountains rose around us. Everything slowed. And somewhere within that stillness came the beginning of something I hadn’t realised I needed: recalibration.

Because beneath everything sat one undeniable truth – the body keeps the score.

By the time we reached Leogang, it felt less like arriving somewhere new and more like entering a place that had been quietly waiting.

At the centre of it all was Naturhotel Forsthofgut.

From the moment of arrival, you are held and welcomed like coming home. The Schmuck family are the fifth generation of Forsthofgut guardians, caring for this land for more than 400 years, and that sense of continuity quietly shapes everything you feel here.

Christoph and Christina Schmuck, the Managing Directors and owners, carry that responsibility forward with warmth and ease. Alongside them, General Manager Daniel Kreil keeps everything flowing with calm precision, while Spa Manager Michaela van Leusen brings a gentle, thoughtful energy to the WALDSPA. In the kitchens, Executive Chef Ingo Lugitsch translates the landscape into food, and at the stables, Riding Stables Manager Elke Hechenberger brings patience, care, and deep understanding to the horses and guests alike.

Together with their dedicated staff, they create something that feels less like formal hospitality and more like genuine care. You feel it in the way you are greeted, in the unhurried pace, in the lack of fuss or performance. Nothing is forced. Everything feels considered, simple, and kind.

I saw my name already written on the welcome board, along with those of other guests arriving, and a cold towel was handed to me. I felt a small sensory reset after travel. Our bags disappeared without fuss and reappeared in rooms as if by quiet magic. I noticed the fresh flowers which softened the lobby, and the air itself felt intentional. I exhaled as I moved towards the bar with my travelling companions, and I ordered a beauty drink which was cold, bright, and restorative. I felt something unclench as I drank it, as though the journey had finally caught up with me and been allowed to leave.

Some of us enjoyed a leisurely afternoon tea, a kind of ritual here. Shelves of alpine herbal infusions, chamomile, fruit teas, Earl Grey – each one labelled with precise brewing times. I was impressed by the collection of teas from Alpine herbal infusions, chamomile, fruit blends and Earl Grey, each with precise steeping times, like a gentle instruction in slowing down. I sat looking toward the Asitz mountain, watching cloud layers drift across its face, and felt my system begin to downshift.

When I reached my room it became the first true landing point. Wood, linen, and mountain air met me at the door. Light spilled across the floor and pulled me immediately toward the balcony where the Alps filled the horizon like something alive and watching back.

The origins of the hotel’s history lie in a new beginning: The year 1617 is carved into a wooden beam as a reminder and marks the starting point of our hotel’s long history. As a simple forestry operation, the estate was closely connected with the forest and they still connection with nature at the Naturhotel Forsthofgut today, taking guests on Forest walks up the hills. As we set off with our guide Klaus we enjoyed views of the wild flora and fauna and I had a Julie Andrews moment – the hills were very much alive with the sound of music. The hike was moderately challenging and had me aching by the end but the view was very much worth the effort.

A Legacy Rooted in Nature

The history of Forsthofgut dates back to 1617 when the estate operated as a simple farm and forestry business. In 1905, the property came into the care of the Schmuck family, whose passion and creativity gradually shaped its future as a hospitality destination.

The foundations of the present-day hotel were established in 1960 with just two guest rooms surrounded by almost 100 acres of untouched nature. Over the decades, the hotel expanded steadily, guided by the philosophy of living in harmony with the environment.

A defining milestone came in 2013 with the launch of Europe’s first forest spa, establishing Forsthofgut as a pioneer of the “nature hotel” concept. Since then, the hotel has continued to evolve with visionary additions including the adults-only WaldSPA Lake House, the Japanese restaurant Mizūmi, exclusive Garden and Mountain Loft Suites, luxury riding stables, and the recently launched WaldSPA Health – a holistic longevity and wellness concept inspired by the restorative power of nature.

Luxury Accommodation with Alpine Soul

Forsthofgut offers 112 rooms and suites, each designed using natural materials, warm fabrics, and elegant alpine-inspired interiors. Every accommodation features either a terrace or balcony, allowing guests to immerse themselves in the surrounding mountain landscape.

The collection ranges from cosy double rooms and spacious nature suites to expansive family suites and luxurious loft-style accommodations. The newest Mountain Loft Suites offer private terraces, saunas, hot tubs, and curated artwork, creating an elevated retreat experience that blends exclusivity with nature.

Families, couples, and wellness travellers alike will find accommodation tailored to their needs, while thoughtful touches and sustainable design ensure comfort without compromising the hotel’s environmental ethos.

I was in room 132 opened out onto a balcony facing the mountains. It was like stepping into a slice of heaven.

The room wasn’t simply for staying in; it was for regulation, it was for returning to pause when the outside world got too much. I find slowing down very hard and this was my sanctuary..Everything placed with quiet care, as though anticipating arrival rather than reacting to it. The room itself was shaped for regulation. Not just comfort, but nervous system ease.

Slippers waited by the bed. A robe. A spa bag. Not as luxury signals, but as reassurance – nothing here required urgency. I noticed the duvet shaped in a heart, a tray that held sleep spray, a mulberry silk eye mask, and a pulse roller infused with calming oils. Nothing demanded anything from me.

Everything suggested permission to stop, as if the room itself was gently resetting with me. Then when I felt rested, I cut a slice and sat on the balcony and I ate slowly, not because I had to, but because I finally could. I stepped onto the balcony.

A beautiful alpine vista unfolded, Clouds broke over the peaks, light fractured across the stone, and a little train passed through the mountain.  There is even a TV for comfort if all else fails, and a minibar that balances indulgence with practicality. But after a bit of a rest, I felt the need for activation, and I noticed rucksacks ready for hiking, small weights for movement.

And so the hotel begins to shape you before you realise it is happening.

The room is well equipped, and they have thought of so much, rucksacks prepared for hiking. Small weights for movement. Spaces that anticipate both effort and collapse. Even the slippers seemed to return when needed, as if the room adjusted to my rhythm rather than demanding one.

Exploring the Resort

Within the hotel there are 112 luxurious rooms and suites in modern alpine surroundings, including two chalet suites priced at around £3,000 a night. Alongside these are three Garden Loft Suites with private loggia and three Berg Loft Suites, each with an outdoor sauna and hot tub, designed to dissolve the boundary between interior comfort and the surrounding landscape.

The hotel reveals itself slowly, less as a single building and more as a system built around restoration—shaped, continuously, by water. Across more than 60,000m², gardens unfold into lakes, lakes into pools, and pools into reflections that shift with light and weather. Everything feels connected by movement: flowing currents, mirrored surfaces, and still pockets of green that soften every edge between inside and out.

Art moves quietly through the corridors, never announced, never overstated. Works by Anselm Kiefer, Martha Jungwirth, and Sylvie Fleury are placed with the same restraint as everything else here—less as decoration, more as continuation. Their presence feels woven into the architecture, echoing the textures outside: Kiefer’s weight and elemental darkness, Jungwirth’s fluid abstraction, Fleury’s subtle disruption of surface and meaning.

Together, they extend the landscape inward. The mountains do not stop at the windows; they continue through brushstroke, pigment, and form, dissolving the line between gallery, hotel, and terrain.

Inside the Spa

The newest wellness addition, WaldSPA Health, reflects the growing demand for science-led holistic wellbeing. The concept combines medical expertise, diagnostics, movement, nutrition, and advanced therapies such as cryotherapy, IHHT altitude training, metabolic analysis, and personalised vitamin infusions. Inspired by the structure of a tree — roots, strength, respiration, and growth — the programme aims to support long-term health, balance, and vitality.

Europe’s first WALDSPA spans 5,200 m2, it is adults only and textile free. At tthe spa, water becomes ritual: steam rising, silence thickening, infinity edges dissolving into horizon. Heat, cold, stillness  – a cycle that seems to re-teach the nervous system how to trust time again.

The resort is shaped entirely around water – lakes, pools, saunas, reflections, movement. Water becomes the medium through which everything softens. Inside the spa, water, heat, and silence form a cycle: steam rising into alpine air, pools reflecting mountain silhouettes, infinity edges dissolving into horizon. Everything here is designed to return you to yourself through elements rather than instruction. There are textile and textile free areas and there’s no pressure or judgment whichever you choose.

At the heart of Forsthofgut lies its extraordinary 5,700-square-metre spa complex, designed to create a seamless connection between wellbeing and nature. When I arrived I was feeling hyper in my mind but depleted in my body – perhaps on the verge of burnout – highly anxious and perhaps on the cusp of perimenopause, so I was here to get some verve into my bones.

This is certainly the place to do this, with vitamin infusions and cryotherapy as well as hypoxie therapy at the adults-only WaldSPA features panoramic saunas, infinity pools, relaxation lounges, yoga and Pilates studios, and tranquil spaces overlooking the mountains. Connected underground, the WaldSPA Lake House elevates the experience further with an onsen-style pool, floating Finnish lake sauna, organic swimming lake, and luxurious treatment rooms.

The gym is also state of the art – and they have a uVida analysis machine which helps you individually target your exercise regime for longer term resultsl

Families are equally catered for with the dedicated WaldSPA Family & Kids area featuring pools, slides, saunas, and interactive water zones designed specifically for younger guests.

The resort’s rituals gently shape the rhythm of each day, turning simple moments into something restorative and almost ceremonial.

Cocktails by the pool at sunset mark the shift from day to evening. Light softens over the water, glasses catch the last glow, and everything slows into an unspoken pause where conversation, silence, and landscape blend together.

What surprised me most was the emotional shift. I arrived feeling depleted, disconnected from my body and carrying more stress than I realised. But within those quiet sessions, surrounded by mountains and silence, something softened. I did not leave feeling dramatically transformed — just lighter, clearer, and more myself again.

When I arrived I was pretty hyper so I wanted to feel calmer and thus chose hypoxia training – lying still as oxygen levels shift. What sounds clinical becomes quietly meditative. Breath turns into awareness, and the mind settles into calm observation.

Afterwards I wanted a calm environment so I went to the Lake House and sat at the edge of the lake before sliding into cold water that felt like awakening rather than shock. The lake does not invite hesitation; it invites trust. Entering it felt like crossing a threshold back into sensation itself.

Straddling the lake, the Seehaus has an onsen pool, a lake sauna, a lake pool, and a relaxation lounge. I sat at the edge before slipping into the cold water, which awakened something immediate in me. The lake asked for presence, not hesitation. It felt like crossing a threshold back into sensation itself, the cold water bringing a sharp clarity that left me feeling both grounded and intensely alive. Water, heat, air, stone, and silence all existed in perfect balance, the body recalibrating itself quietly within the elements.

The lake pool was cool, clear, and wonderful to swim in, surrounded by mountains that rose like a still frame around the water, making each stroke feel slower, lighter, and more connected to the landscape.

But as an air sign, I loved most of all the rooftop pool, floating freely beneath the sky, looking out over the entire resort and the surrounding mountains, held between air and horizon, weightless above everything below. I drifted in that rooftop spa pool, as the rain came down looking up at the sky as it shifted between light and cloud.  There is a particular feeling of weightlessness there – not escape, but suspension. A brief forgetting of gravity, where the body feels temporarily unanchored from everything it is usually asked to hold. I looked out across the entire resort and surrounding peaks, held between air and horizon and found perspective. Weightless, but not removed. I also found a release, confronting my demons and fears and releasing them to the mountains. It was spiritual. Yet, I was inside it all, rather than an observer.

Earlier in the day, herbal infusions offered a quieter kind of reset. Alpine blends of chamomile, mint, and foraged herbs were sipped after swimming, hiking, or spa time, each cup easing the body into a softer state. It is less about refreshment, more about recalibration.

And the sauna becomes the most elemental ritual of all. Heat builds, steam rises, and the outside world falls away. Moving between sauna and cold alpine air creates a natural rhythm of tension and release, until the body begins to feel lighter, clearer, almost reset.

I felt with every experience I was returning, again and again, to balance through water, heat, and stillness. Throughout everything, the resort holds you through the elements — water, stone, fire, forest, air. Nothing here feels separate. Everything is in conversation. Pools reflect sky. Wood carries warmth. Water softens edges. Mountains anchor perspective.

This is what makes Forsthofgut feel different: it does not remove you from life. It returns you to it.

And slowly, something shifted. Not dramatically. Not all at once and I began to feel re-energised in a healthier way than pure adrenaline, more grounded.  Quietly – in breath, in body, in awareness — I began to return to myself. The mountains did not fix anything, they just shifted the balance from one of stress to reset.

Rituals and returning

Across the stay, rituals thread everything together: cocktails by the pool as light drains from the sky; herbal infusions after movement; sauna heat rising into cold alpine air. Each transition is its own kind of recalibration – tension, release, return.

And during the stay, something slowly shifted – while not dramatically or all at once, my breath slowed, my movement became deliberate and in water, in stillness — I began to return to myself and learned to rest. The mountains did not fix anything. They held me until I could hold myself again.

And from that quieter place, I understood I was not being rebuilt.

I was being reconnected.

Movement

Sport here is not separate from restoration. It is part of it — a way of understanding the body through state-of-the-art UVida training, set within a landscape that quietly participates in the work.

UVida is presented less as a fitness system and more as a form of calibration. It reads the body as a living profile — a biometric fingerprint shaped by stress load, recovery capacity, movement patterns, and nervous system response. From that, training is not standardised but adjusted. Effort becomes personalised, almost responsive in real time, as if the body is being met at its exact threshold rather than pushed toward a generic goal.

There is a sense of precision to it that removes guesswork. The idea is not to override the body, but to refine alignment with it — to observe how it reacts, where it holds, where it releases, and to let training evolve from that feedback loop. Over time, the system feels less like instruction and more like calibration: a continuous reading and rebalancing of internal state.

In the beginning, movement is simply movement. The gym is vast and quiet, framed by glass and alpine peaks that hold still in the background like something permanent. But even here, the landscape refuses to remain passive. It draws the body outward. It invites effort.

Pilates on the reformer becomes unexpectedly emotional. The machine supports movements I did not think my body still had access to, lifting heavy legs with the lightness and precision of a ballet dancer. What starts as structured exercise becomes something more intimate — a gradual return to range, to possibility. The feeling is not of pushing forward, but of being gently reintroduced to what was already there, only forgotten.

Strength training follows in its own language. Simple, stripped back: load, breath, control, release. Yet nothing about it feels mechanical. The trainers do not impose intensity; they hold a kind of quiet attention that makes space for change. Over time, something shifts. Breathing softens without instruction. Posture opens without correction. The mind grows less noisy. What was carried in begins to loosen.

Between sets, stillness arrives through the windows. The mountains do not move. That steadiness begins to travel inward, settling something deeper than muscle. Effort starts to change shape. It is no longer resistance – it becomes release.

Outside the gym, the experience expands into terrain.

Hiking with guide Klaus added another layer of grounding. The path itself moved between challenge and beauty. Steeper sections asked for effort, breath, and focus, while open stretches revealed wide alpine views that softened everything at once. The group naturally found its own rhythm, moving together without needing to coordinate it, as if the landscape was setting the pace rather than us.

With Klaus, conversation came in fragments rather than structure. He spoke lightly about his time in the Algarve as a golf instructor, and about winters spent skiing in the mountains. These details didn’t feel like stories being performed, but lived experience shared casually between steps, shaped by movement rather than pause.

As the climb continued, something in the body began to regulate. The nervous system shifted through effort into balance – breath deepening, mind quietening, attention narrowing to footfall, air, and incline.

When we reached the top, there was no sense of triumph or performance. It was something softer than that – a collective exhale. A release that arrived not through achievement, but through arrival. In that moment, the body felt recalibrated by nature itself. Present, steady, and quietly restored.

The walk was challenging, bu I was impressed by the togetherness. As a group, we moved without pressure or performance and we were all present and made some incredible bonds.

Klaus guided with calm steadiness, sharing fragments of his life — time in the Algarve as a golf instructor, winters skiing in the mountains.

When we reached the top, we all felt a bit of a release and a soft internal loosening and there is nothing like exercise in open air. and people who were strangers hours earlier. On the descent, laughter returned easily, as if the effort has cleared space for it.

Horse riding

Later, at the stables, the experience shifts again. Meeting Saphir, the horse, was one of the most grounding moments of the experience. She carried a calm, steady presence, but also an intelligence that was immediately apparent. She had a mind of her own. There was nothing submissive or overly obedient about her energy. She moved with autonomy, presence, and quiet confidence, and I found myself respecting that instantly.

As I got closer, the stable air was layered with the scent of hay, warm, earthy, slightly sweet and mixed with leather, wood, and the soft animal warmth that belongs only to places like this. It was an atmosphere that felt honest and unpolished, alive in a very natural way.

Outside, the alpine air moved through the stables and out across the landscape, whipping my hair and heightening everything at once. There was a sharpness to it — fresh, cold, alive — and with it came a surge of adrenaline, not anxious, but awakening. A reminder of being fully in my body, fully awake to the moment.

There was something in Saphir’s nature that I recognised in myself — not to be tamed, not to be forced into compliance, but to move with instinct, awareness, and inner direction. That recognition created an immediate sense of connection between us.

As I prepared to ride, something subtle shifted. It was no longer about anticipation or thought, but about relationship. The bond with her built quietly, through touch, through breath, through the shared stillness before movement.

Once in motion, there was a deep sense of presence both mine and hers. The rhythm of her steps, the landscape opening around us, the wind against my skin. It felt like trust without words, a shared understanding carried through movement rather than instruction. In that space, I wasn’t observing experience from a distance -I was fully inside it. Grounded, alert, and completely present.

Whether in UVida calibration, the gym, on the mountain, or horseback, the pattern stayed the same: effort no longer felt imposed on the body but revealed through it. Attention replaced instruction, and presence replaced performance. There was no sense of managing or directing what was happening, only a clear, immediate contact with it as it unfolded. Gradually, without a defined boundary, experience stopped being something watched from the outside and became something lived entirely from within.

Food and Drink: Rest and Digest

The first evening, we gathered for a welcome aperitif with the Schmuck family amd i was fascinated to get to know themLive music drifted through the space. D

inner followed – a five-course expression of the hotel’s CUISINE philosophy: conscious reduction, exceptional ingredients, and deep respect for provenance. Three culinary directions guide everything: alpine-mediterranean dishes inspired by the seven Alpine countries; a vegan offering rooted in creativity rather than restriction; and the R50 philosophy, where ingredients are sourced within 50 kilometres – many from the hotel’s own land. Across all spaces,  from Restaurant 1617 to Mizumi, weinWALD, the Botanist Bar, and silva,  there is a shared language of restraint and place.

Breakfast at the Delicacies Market is abundant but never heavy: choose from alpine cheeses, eggs, grains, fresh breads, juices – its food designed for energy and restoration rather than indulgence for its own sake, I stacked my tray with beetrtoot juice, ginger shots and kale drinks as well as protein eggs and delicious salads, it was perfectly nutritious and balanced.. One day we ate in Mizumi the Japanese restaurant — teppanyaki and sushi which was fresh and colourful and a beautiful Japanese Green tea as a reminder that the hotel’s philosophy extends beyond Alpine borders. This overlooks the lake and is a special experience..

There are five à la carte restaurants to choose from, 1617 – the year the farm was founded serves traditional Austrian tableside food, while Noon is open for lunch, but we chose to eat at Mizumi, the Japanese restaurant overlooking the water. While lunch is not included, this was a special treat and it felt like stepping into another rhythm entirely – sushi prepared with quiet precision, teppanyaki unfolding like a performance without spectacle, green tea held in stillness. Sharing that space felt communal in a different way: conversation softened, attention sharpened, and we enjoyed the moment as we watched water shift outside the windows and flavour arrived in deliberate, quiet waves.

Silva is the emotional final chapter of the experience. On the last evening, dining there feels like a journey into the forest itself – an immersive conclusion to the stay. The intimate ten-seat setting is led by head chef Michael Helfrich, with wine guidance by Johann Koller and delicate finishing touches from pastry chef Birgit Tüchi. Together,r they create a deeply considered experience rooted in alpine ingredients. I chose the I enjoyed delicious fish dishes with caviar and the most delicious Wagu beef and a wine philosophy that spans Austria, Burgundy, Italy, Bordeaux, Rioja, and Napa, always focused on expression rather than excess. But it is silva that becomes the emotional final chapter. The ten-seat dining room is intimate, almost secret. Head chef Michael Helfrich leads a kitchen that translates the forest into food – wild herbs, smoke, pine, mossy earth tones, meat, fish and vegetables which nourish and delight the senses at once. Johann Koller guides the evening with calm presence, delivering plates to the table with ease and sharing his deep wine knowledge, there is also a non alcoholic beverage which is enchanting, with magical concotions which make the drinkers envious. Meanwhile pastry chef Birgit Tüchi adds a final, almost dreamlike precision to dessert. Recognised by Gault&Millau for its nature-led refinement, silva feels less like a restaurant and more like a story told in courses. Each plate arrives like a fragment of the forest landscape – something foraged, something transformed, something remembered. The rhythm is slow, deliberate. Nothing rushes. The room itself encourages attention inward: soft lighting, natural materials, acoustics that soften the world outside.

By the final course, there is no crescendo – only quiet completion. A sense that something has been moved through rather than consumed. And yet it is not only stillness that defines this place each morning they delivered a newsletter spelling out the day

Each course unfolds like a chapter. Nothing feels rushed. The forest is present in every detail – wild herbs, smoke, pine, moss, and earth translated into something the body understands before words do. The atmosphere is quiet and restorative and rest and digestion in its purest form happens while eating the most magical meal.

The pairing begins with Ruinart Champagne and continues with a curated selection of sparkling and still wines from leading European and international estates. Alongside this runs a fully integrated non-alcoholic pairing, built with the same intention and precision: sparkling teas, botanical infusions, ferments, shrubs, and alpine ingredients such as herbs, citrus, spruce, and green tea. It is not an alternative, but an equal tasting journey in its own right.

Rituals and returning

Across the stay, rituals thread everything together: cocktails by the pool as light drains from the sky; herbal infusions after movement; sauna heat rising into cold alpine air. Each transition is its own kind of recalibration – tension, release, return.

And during the stay something slowly shifted – while not dramatically or all at once, my breath slowed, my movement became deliberate and in water, in stillness – I began to return to myself and learned to rest. The mountains did not fix anything. They held me until I could hold myself again.

And from that quieter place, I understood I was not being rebuilt.

I was being reconnected.

Find out more at: https://www.forsthofgut.at/en/

aturhotel Forsthofgut has double rooms from Euros 295 per person per night based on 2 sharing for 7 nights or more; 3-6 nights are from €315 and overnight is from €295 on the same basis:

The Health Escape valid from mid March to early July and early September to the end of November, is priced from €1050 per person (2 sharing a double room) for 3 nights and alongside all the complimentary activities, includes one cryotherapy session, one TechnoGym check-up, one Hypoxia session and a personal consultation with the waldSPA Health Manager.

W – www.forsthofgut.at/en E – info@forsthofgut.at T – +43 6583 8561. Children are charged discounted rates per child per night on an age-dependent sliding scale.