Laluna Ayurveda Resort

The breakfast received high praise for its variety and quality. Guests appreciated the spacious, comfortable rooms with air conditioning, especially those facing the swimming pool and river.

This spa is, without a doubt, the most horrifying excuse for a spa experience in existence. My sister and I went based on local recommendations, which, in hindsight, must have been cruel pranks, because this place is nothing short of a waking nightmare. Imagine a coffin disguised as a sauna—yes, a literal coffin. That’s where they expect you to relax. Relax? More like prepare for your funeral. The massage was allegedly two hours long, but in reality, it was an endless parade of interruptions as the so-called “therapists” took breaks every five minutes. Calling them “professional” would be an insult to amateurs everywhere. They don’t massage; they smear oil on you like they’re greasing a squeaky hinge. Zero technique, zero relaxation, just awkward rubbing that feels like a toddler trying to paint with their hands. Oh, and forget about peace and quiet—they chatter away non-stop, breaking any illusion of serenity. Every two minutes, you’re flipped over like a pancake on a griddle. Just when you think it can’t get worse, it does. Because, out of nowhere, a quack of a doctor barges into the women’s spa room without warning. Yes, in the middle of what was already a trainwreck, this self-proclaimed “acupuncturist” starts randomly jabbing needles into you without consent, calling it acupuncture. No explanation, no professionalism—just unsolicited needle poking like we’re some kind of pin cushions. This was supposed to be a soothing escape, but it felt more like an endurance test for a bad comedy show. If I could rate this experience with negative stars, I would. Attaching a photo of their so-called sauna—seriously, it’s a coffin. Save yourself the trauma and avoid this place at all costs.