Could Ayurveda Cure Britain’s Stress Problem? I Flew To India To Find Out

Feeling stressed, burnt out, or completely despondent? If you’re nodding along, you’re in good company. According to the 2025 Burnout Report by YouGov, a staggering nine in 10 Brits reported feeling high or extreme levels of stress last year. Throw in the unrelenting pressures of the cost-of-living crisis and the chaos of global politics, and it’s no wonder we all feel a little frazzled.

That stress doesn’t just show up in the form of dark circles under our eyes or a dull complexion: it’s also wreaking havoc on our mental and physical wellbeing. Enter Ayurveda, an ancient practice that has been helping people restore balance for thousands of years. As someone who’s perpetually on, always chasing the next deadline, and struggling to quiet my busy mind, I decided it was time to find out firsthand what Ayurveda could do for me – especially when so many are turning to it as a remedy for modern burnout.

What if Ayurveda could give me something deeper than a fleeting yoga class or a short tech detox can? What if it could offer a sustainable path back to balance, all while allowing me to sink into my own rhythm, beyond the rush of modern life?

And so, I flew to India to stay at Ananda in the Himalayas, an Ayurvedic retreat nestled in the serene foothills of northern India. Here’s what happened.

Trying Ananda’s Famous Ayurvedic Retreat

Ananda is the kind of place where even the most sceptical traveller can’t help but have some sort of spiritual experience. It’s not just about the lush landscapes or the luxurious surroundings; it’s about the profound sense of calm that permeates everything here.

From the moment I arrived, the place felt sacred – almost holy. Perched above Rishikesh, Ananda is set in a restored Maharaja’s palace, and the estate has long been a retreat for royalty. The estate is surrounded by pristine forest and the air’s imbued with a sense of peace that feels almost sacrosanct.

Here, amid the lush green slopes and the almost Godly yoga pavilion, Ayurveda is introduced in a way that feels both deeply personal and transformative. I met Dr. Uniyal, my Ayurvedic doctor, on the second day of my stay. With a calming, almost deity-like presence, he took one look at my tongue and ears and told me that I wasn’t eating breakfast and that my sleep patterns were all over the place. He wasn’t consulting my notes – he could tell just by my body’s signals. Over the next six days, he performed acupuncture and cupping on me, a treatment that seemed to unravel all my built-up stress, leaving me lighter, clearer and surprisingly rejuvenated. It felt like his touch went beyond the physical, tapping into something ancient and intuitive that restored my balance in a way I hadn’t expected.

Deluxe Room

The food at Ananda was delicious, but a departure from my usual generous portions. The meals were full of flavour and carefully crafted to balance my dosha. I found myself savouring each bite, whether it was stewed apples for breakfast (literally five little squares of soft, spiced goodness) or a comforting bowl of kitchari (a simple rice and lentil dish) for dinner. At first, the smaller portions left me feeling a bit hungry, but as I settled in, I realised it was the perfect amount to nourish me without overwhelming my system. By the end of the week, I was amazed by how grounded and nourished I felt, just from slowing down and eating mindfully rather than scoffing everything on my plate.

But Ayurveda isn’t just about food: it’s a way of life, woven into every aspect of the retreat. Each day began with a nasal spray that, after two ill-fated attempts, I started to administer with my fingers, oil pulling, tongue scraping and meditation – all before sunrise. It might sound like a lot, but I’m used to early mornings, and there’s something sacred about the rituals of self-care. I then opted for an early morning swim instead of yoga – which might sound sacrilegious, given how close I was to the birthplace of yoga. But with the tree-shaded pool all to myself, it was too tempting to resist.

The treatments were excellent. In addition to my daily acupuncture, I had an emotional wellness session, Ayurvedic consultations, massages, reflexology, body scrubs, and facials. It was hard not to feel a little closer to something holy when you’ve been so well looked after – a standard practice at a place like Ananda, perhaps, but a rare luxury for most of us mere mortals navigating the chaos of everyday life.

But Ayurveda isn’t just about the physical; it’s about the emotional and spiritual. There was sound healing, private yoga sessions, and chanting – each designed to cultivate stillness through a blend of hatha yoga, meditation, and silence. They were game-changers, just as edifying as the treatments, if slightly less indulgent.

One of the most profound aspects of Ayurveda is its focus on balance – not just in the body, but in life. Every treatment, every ritual, and every meal is designed to bring you back into alignment with your true self. It wasn’t about striving for perfection; it was about listening to my body and responding with care and kindness.

The biggest lesson of all, though, was how easy it is to fall back into balance once you’ve experienced it. Ayurveda doesn’t just offer a quick fix; it provides tools for maintaining that equilibrium long after you leave. Returning home was the real challenge: how could I carry this sense of calm into my everyday life?

The answer was simple: small changes. Waking up earlier, eating more nourishing foods, swapping my regular tea for decaf, and cherishing the (one) coffee I have each day that tiny bit more. (I also add a teaspoon of coconut oil to help protect my stomach lining from the acidity.) I drink room-temperature water instead of iced (a notion I once would have baulked at) and still self-administer the nasal spray on days I remember. Ayurveda isn’t about achieving perfection; it’s about continuous self-care.

It’s a strange thing to miss a place – particularly one where you’ve only spent a week – but a longing to return has been simmering beneath the surface of my skin since I left. And so, each morning, I light a stick of the incense they burned at Ananda, and for a moment, if I concentrate hard enough, I’m back there. I can feel the air, and the cool mountain breeze, the scent of the forest, and the peaceful stillness that seemed to settle in everything.

I had seven of the best days of my life at Ananda, and back in the real world, both my shut-eye and my sense of balance have continued to improve. The tools I picked up – embracing a slower, more mindful pace and the simple rituals of self-care – have left a lasting mark. The calm of those days still lingers, and while I’m far from the foothills of the Himalayas, a quiet sense of balance has stayed with me.

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