Indulge in royal comforts

“There are Godiva chocolates and water in that compartment,'' the driver says as we set off on our 30-minute journey from Girona Airport.

My friend and I glance at each other and smile as we peek into the compartment, wondering what might be in store for us over the weekend.

As I enter our room at Alva Park, a resort in Catalonia, Spain, I don't know whether to be struck by the size of the bed, the stylishly slanted brown sinks, the iPod player and Bose speakers, the homely study area with a sleek laptop and a large glass-jewelled lamp or the strawberries, cream and sugar waiting for us in curved Villeroy bowls.

There's a tag with my name on the round a gift box, the laptop wallpaper reads “Welcome, Miss Manek'' and there are business cards and sheets of paper with my name typed on them.

As we dip strawberries in the fresh cream, I notice a black, shiny espresso machine sitting on the table.

It takes me a while to figure out how to use the gadget, just as it does with most of the other hi-tech devices, including the classy phone.

The reward for my efforts? Smooth, hot and great-tasting coffee.

We tuck into bed, ready to watch Notting Hill, a romantic comedy we ordered from the DVD list. I sip my second decaf and my friend her tea.

At the corner of the bed lies another chocolate box and a small card with the message:

“The sun will rise at 7.14am tomorrow morning.'' On the side table, I find a large remote which adjusts the bed so that my back can be lowered and my feet raised.

Next, I examine the selection of light settings and press “night''. The room is romantically dimmed just as the film begins.

After a long and blissful sleep, we stroll downstairs at 11am on Saturday, refreshed and ready for breakfast.

There's something very classic and English about this unadorned yet elegant room, soaked in bright morning light.

We take our seats in this quiet atmosphere, looking around for a hotel breakfast. “It's à la carte,'' our waiter tells us.

I settle on a fruit bowl, Greek yoghurt, a chocolate crepe and a cappuccino — all of them delicious.

Lavish Indian bath

Our first stop in the afternoon is the Indian Princess Bath. The passage leading to it is dark and mysterious.

The walls on either side are filled with Eastern antiques — rustique silver necklaces and earrings, miniature pots and other random and strange little pieces, all set in a jigsaw of old frames.

I take a few more steps and on my left and pull an ornate rope to enter the bath area.

Two intricately carved wooden doors, much like something you would expect to find in a palace in India, open slowly, heightening the anticipation of what lies behind them.

Chantings of Indian slokas and classical sitar music float through the doors. As I enter, a comforting warmth cloaks me.

I enter the humid salt water and close my eyes, soaking in the music, the peaceful seclusion and serene mood. Above me is an exquisite gold ceiling full of tiny star lights.

I find a rope beside me and pull it. Drops of water fall from the ceiling, splashing daintily into the pool and softly touching my head.

It's not until the next day that I decide to have my spa treatment.

I arrive an hour early to spend time in the spa and sit on a large curved bed-like chair as I wait for my treatment.

The music makes me feel as if I'm floating on waves. The sound of water, as it flows around the stone ball beside me, and the quietitude of the spa add to the therapeutic aura and help me communicate with my inner being, speaking the language of peace.

Large, dimly lit rectangular pillars highlight the naturally textured surface of their brown and grey stones.

Areas of white pebbles and tall pots lit with small lanterns surround the wooden floor and the doors to the treatment rooms are illuminated from beneath with fibre-optic lights of various colours — red, blue and pink — lending the corridor a lustrous glow.

Therapeutic massage

Poppy, my therapist, calls me for my back treatment. An oval, pink light glows dimly above me as I settle on the massage bed.

After cleansing and scrubbing, a hot mud mask is spread over my back, and my feet and legs are softly massaged.

Once the mask is removed, my therapist's strong hands knead and massage every part of my back.

As soon as the massage is over, I'm awakened from my dreamy state.

Poppy brings a scoop of raspberry sorbet, props up my bed and leaves me to savour its taste.

Soon enough, after another dip in the hot Princess Bath and a quick pasta ordered in the room, it's time to leave and head back to hectic London.

Two days at Alva Park was the perfect getaway. But I could have stayed for a little longer, or perhaps a lot longer!

— Meera Manek is a UK-based freelance writer