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Fasting
for
Body Mind Spirit
Check out the benefits of Juice Fasting for:
Allergies
Arthritis
Cancer
Constipation
Detoxification
Diabetics
Lose
Weight
Toxic
Blood
Do's & Don't
Some suggestions of what you should do and not to do for a Healthier
Lifestyle
Sauna
The wonderful benefits of a Finnish type Sauna
Hot Tub
Benefits of Hot Tub Hydrotherapy
21day Fast
Frank's diary of his experience with The Living on Light Process
Books
Books on Fasting Health & Healing that we recommend
Christian
Fasting Retreat
Is Moinhos Velhos fasting retreat suitable for Christians?
Home
Fasting Programs
How to do a fasting program at home with much information on the benefit
of juice fasting.
Fasting
at Yoga Camp
Fasting Programs at Sivananda Yoga Camp in Canada
Fasting in India
Fasting Programs at the Sivananda Ashram in India
Payments
Physiospect
NLS diagnostic
Computerized Biofeedback scanning and therapy
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Fasting
Detoxification
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"As
I walked, I felt I had reached a sort of health nirvana, flooded
with energy and looking better than I had for years."
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Article
in the Daily Telegraph on Saturday March 04 2006
By Rachael Woolston
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Given
the shelf space it commands in bookshops at the moment and
its high-profile celebrity advocates, it's easy to think of
detoxing
as a passing fad. But Frank Jenson and
Anne Karine Moss, both Norwegian, have been running their
detox program in
the Portuguese Algarve for more than 14 years now.
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Fast
as you can: Moinhos Velhos, detox central on the Portuguese
Algarve
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The
theory at Moinhos Velhos, their rustically charming headquarters
housed in an old mill, is simple: you fast for 10 days,
on juice, have two daily sessions of colonic
irrigation, go through absolute hell and are released
14 days later with pristine insides, sparkling eyes and
shiny hair. And with luck you've lost at least half a stone.
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Day
one started with a gentle call at 6.45. I found our group
of 11 in the main house, quietly sipping lemon juice and water
- a miracle potion that not only cleanses the liver but also
acts as an appetite suppressant. Then it was down to the yoga
pavilion for two hours of exercise and meditation. And although
I was a complete klutz at yoga, no one ever made me feel I
was the class dummy.
Breakfast
at 10am was an excruciating mix of bentonite clay, mixed with
water and psyllium husk topped up with apple juice - allegedly
to make it palatable (it wasn't). The former acts as a sponge
for toxins and the psyllium husk speeds its progress through
the body. The chaser was a glorious litre of juice squeezed
from oranges growing around us.
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The
mornings were spent having treatments, lazing by the saltwater
pools or hidden away in the bathrooms of our basic but meticulously
clean wooden chalets, self-administering the dreaded clysmatic
or colonic cleansing (it gives sitting on the tube
an entirely new meaning).
Treatments
ranged from basic well-executed massage to more bizarre sessions
such as having my heavy metals removed with a crystal and
my food intolerances cured by holding two big metal balls.
After a shaky start (I was too squeamish to watch the demonstration
properly) the
colonics were
not as traumatic as I was expecting. I'm not sure I embraced
it with as much gusto as my fellow fasters - or the previous
guests, who had proudly photographed some of the repulsive
stuff that was flushed out of their systems, and compiled
an album for general viewing.
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Although
we were fasting, there were still mealtimes and we would sit
around the table, talking about nutrition,
life, our health and habits. The group was mixed, 10 women and
one man, from places as diverse as Afghanistan and America.
Health and nutrition knowledge ranged from ignorance (me and
a Portuguese couple) to the extremely conscientious. Meat was
generally considered the anti-Christ; when I mentioned that
I had done the Atkins diet, a hushed silence descended on the
table.
There
was no television, no newspapers and little word from the outside
world, as mobiles did not work. There was one temperamental
telephone, and although I managed to phone home every day, it
was only through persistence.
Lunch
started with a blessing for the juice - as did every other meal
- followed by the vile bentonite clay, then a litre of vegetable
juice of varying awfulness, made from veg grown organically
at Moinhos Velhos.
Supper
was a broth in which a selection of vegetables had been cooked,
followed by evening meditation. Bed was ridiculously early.
We
had a couple of trips to the local town of Lagos, where we could
gaze wistfully at tourists tucking into sardines and carafes
of vinho de mesa, and squeeze into various outfits at clothes
shops that we wouldn't even have considered at the start of
the fast. Unlike everyone else in the town, we had our lunch
at the local juice bar, where, after the monotony of orange
and vegetable, it was really exciting to be able to tuck into
strawberry and kiwi fruit, and other such exotic combinations.
My
own physical journey over the two weeks went from fine and dandy
on day one to tear-inducing agony from my kidneys on days two
to five - only alleviated by scoring a few illegal painkillers
from one of my fellow fasters. To make matters worse, I was
briefly concussed and tearfully sorry for myself after whacking
my head on the minibus on the way back from a day-trip to Lagos.
In
the second week, I was hideously nauseous as my liver went through
its paces. Every day brought new horrors in terms of spots,
foul breath, headaches, tears and all-round grumpiness.
Then
on day nine I had a breakthrough and started to feel amazing!
From
that point on, I would wake in the morning and pound up the
hills to use a surplus of energy before lemon tea and yoga.
Moinhos Velhos is set in a glorious valley within walking distance
of the majestic barragem (dam), and the surrounding hillsides
are criss-crossed with sandy paths lined with eucalyptus trees.
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We
came to breakfast on day 11 to be confronted by an exquisite
platter of fruit. Although I wanted to gorge, a breakfast of
one apricot, a small slice of melon and a couple of cherries
was enough.
Lunch
that day was salad, and our evening meal was broth - with the
vegetables left in. By Saturday we were eating delicious quinoa
porridge, lunching out at a fish restaurant and sharing a farewell
vegetarian feast with the staff in the evening. Without exception
we were sleeker, prettier and healthier than when we arrived.
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Three
months later
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I'd
love to say I have joined a yoga class, and have the skin of
a 14-year-old and the body of a gazelle, but nothing so dramatic.
I am, however, far more in touch with my body, what it needs
and when. Nor do I reach for a glass of wine every evening -
boringly a cup of herbal tea is more satisfying. And hell though
it was, I felt much better after the two weeks than after any
real holiday.
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