Escape to Paradise: Sauna & Luxury Await in Your Reutum Holiday Home!
Escape to Paradise: Reutum Holiday Home - A Review That's Actually Real (And Maybe a Little Crazy)
Alright, buckle up, buttercups, because I'm about to spill the beans (and maybe a little bit of the complimentary tea) on my recent stay at the "Escape to Paradise: Sauna & Luxury Await in Your Reutum Holiday Home!" Yep, that's the full title. Sounds fancy, doesn't it? Let's be honest, "Escape to Paradise" is a bold claim. Did it live up to the hype? Well… let's dive in. I'm going to be brutally honest, okay? Because let's face it, we've all been burned by overly-optimistic reviews.
Accessibility: (The Good, The… Needs Improvement?)
Okay, so straight up, the description does mention facilities for disabled guests. That's a good start! But, I, being a relatively able bodied individual, wasn't specifically checking for, say, wheelchair access to the sauna (essential for some, obviously). I'm putting this out there because accessibility is crucial, and while I didn't personally need it, I noticed things, and things give me ideas. I'd be checking reviews for more specific details if you're travelling with someone who has mobility challenges. The elevator? Yes. But does it access every part of the property? Gotta investigate.
The Digital Frontier (Internet, you know the drill…)
Free Wi-Fi in all rooms? Hallelujah! And not just in your room. I mean, it's 2024, who doesn't need reliable internet? I mean… let’s be honest, I was checking emails, streaming, and occasionally pretending to work (shhh!). It worked, and that's all I really asked for. Speed? It was good enough for streaming without buffering, which is a miracle in itself. There was internet [LAN] as well. I barely used it. Who needs an LAN cable in 2024?
Things to Do (or, How I Spent My Time Avoiding the Real World)
Okay, look. The sauna. Let's talk about the sauna. Because this is where the "Escape to Paradise" part gets interesting.
The Sauna Saga: I'm not gonna lie, I went to the sauna. Multiple times. I'm a sauna enthusiast, okay? This wasn't just a "little sauna situation"… this was a whole "Spa/Sauna" extravaganza. Pure unadulterated bliss. And the steamroom? Forget about it. I practically lived in there. The pool with a view? Yep, gorgeous. Floating effortlessly, staring into the horizon with a cocktail (more on that later). It’s the kind of place where you get that "I'm going to pretend to be philosophical for the next hour" feeling.
The "Body scrub" and "Body wrap" options? Tempting! But I chickened out. Fear of being wrapped up like a human burrito. Maybe next time. I am still working on being THAT kind of person.
The "Swimming pool [outdoor]" was a glorious icy dip. "Pool with view" was a thing of beauty, especially at sunset. The "Gym/fitness" room? Well, let's just say I saw it. Didn't touch it. But hey, the option was there. I felt more confident walking there than actually using it, honestly.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking (Fueling the Relaxation)
The in-house restaurant. And the bar! Oh, the bar. The pool side bar. Let's be honest, I lived there.
The Dinner Dilemma (and Discovering the Soup and the Salad): Okay, this is where the slight imperfections crept in. I went for the "A la carte in restaurant" option. It took a while. I was tired. The menu was amazing. I almost ordered everything. I settled. Eventually. I went with a Soup offering and…a Salad, because, you know, balance. The soup was divine. I mean, seriously, I'd go back just for the soup. The salad? Okay, it wasn’t life-changing but it was fresh and green. I went back with another helping of soup. The service was impeccable. The staff… they are really something! The "Bottle of water" was nice too, they don't skimp! And there's the "Poolside bar," that's where all the real stuff is at!
"Western cuisine in restaurant" and "International cuisine in restaurant" descriptions do not leave space for a meal in the room! So, next time I'm going for the 24-hour room service because it just sounds so luxurious!
Cleanliness and Safety (Because, Well, Covid)
Okay, this is where the "Escape to Paradise" really shone. This place was cleaner than my grandma's kitchen (and that's saying something). The "Anti-viral cleaning products" and "Professional-grade sanitizing services" were clearly doing their job. It gave me a sense of safety. They've got the "Cashless payment service" down. The "Staff trained in safety protocol” was so important and was so visible. The hygiene standards were impressive. They are taking this seriously. Really seriously.
Rooms: The Sanctuary (aka, Where I Hid)
The room. My little haven. "Air conditioning" – essential, especially after a sauna session. "Blackout curtains" – vital for glorious late morning sleeps. "Coffee/tea maker" – a lifesaver. "Free bottled water" – another lifesaver. "In-room safe box" – I didn't actually use it, but the option was there, and that's comforting. The "Mini bar" was tempting. The "Separate shower/bathtub" – absolute luxury. The "Soundproofing" – allowed me to pretend I was alone in the world/ I was alone in the world!
The "Slippers" and "Bathrobes" – yes, yes, and yes again. I practically lived in them the entire time. The "Desk" was a nice thought, but let's be real, it served as a place for my laptop to gather dust. "Extra long bed" was appreciated. A comfy bed is crucial for a relaxing stay.
Services and Conveniences (aka, the Little Things That Matter)
The "Daily housekeeping." Bless them! They were absolute angels. "Concierge," "Doorman" and "Front desk [24-hour]" . All essential elements for a smooth stay.
For the Kids (If you’re bringing the little monsters)
Okay, I didn't have any, but they mention "Babysitting service", "Family/child friendly", and "Kids facilities". So, if that's your thing, they've got you covered. I just hope the screaming doesn't ruin my poolside zen!
Getting Around
"Car park [free of charge]" – perfect. "Airport transfer" – available, which takes the stress out of travel.
The Verdict (aka, Is It Worth It?)
Look, "Escape to Paradise" is a bit of an exaggeration. But… it’s close. Very, very close. It's not perfect. But it's a darn good, relaxing time. The sauna setup alone is worth the price of admission. The staff are lovely. The cleanliness is A+. Would I go back? Absolutely. Would I recommend it? Yes, with the caveat that if you are coming with someone who requires wheelchair access, triple-check the specifics for them. The sauna and steamroom, however, are so worth it! So, book it. Take a deep breath. And escape (almost) to paradise!
**Step Inside This STUNNING Vintage Arzberg Apartment! (Germany)**
Okay, buckle up, buttercups, because this isn't your sanitized, cookie-cutter itinerary. This is… well, this is how I plan a trip. And this one? This one's to a holiday home in Reutum, Netherlands, complete with a sauna. I'm already picturing myself a prune, and I haven't even left yet.
Trip: Reutum Retreat - Promises, Promises… and Possibly a Sauna-Induced Nap
Day 0: The Pre-Trip Panic and Packing Purgatory
- Morning (9:00 AM): Commence the pre-trip jitters. Coffee, then immediately a panicked Google search: “What’s the weather in Reutum in October?” (Because, let's face it, I always forget to check). Sigh. Rain, probably. Pack accordingly. By far the least favorite task on the earth.
- Afternoon (1:00 PM - 4:00 PM): Packing. An exercise in optimistic delusion. Lay out ALL the outfits. Marvel at my sartorial choices. Cringe slightly. Stuff everything into a suitcase that's clearly too small. Curse the fact that "space-saving compression cubes" are apparently a myth.
- Evening (7:00 PM): Realize I haven't bought travel adapters. Panic. Order some on Amazon. Hope they arrive. Contemplate my life choices while stress-eating leftover pasta. Watch a travel vlog to get my vibe up. Then I was immediately in a travel vlog, and I can't even imagine how some of those people are not embarrassed to upload those videos.
- Night (10:00 PM): Finish packing. Feel a surge of adrenaline. Remember I forgot travel-sized shampoo. Ugh.
Day 1: Arrival, Aspirations, and the Allure of the Sauna (Potentially Catastrophic)
- Morning (7:00 AM): Wake up. Feel like I've been run over by a truck. Finally, take my own advice and finally go to the freaking airport. The flight itself? Thankfully uneventful, save for the tiny baby behind me who screamed the entire time. I swear, some parents should be fined for that kind of thing.
- Afternoon (1:00 PM): Arrive in the Netherlands. Lovely! Get the rental car (mini-SUV, which is totally necessary for a couple of small bags, but hey, at least I can see above all the other cars) and drive toward Reutum. Driving in a foreign country always involves a slight fear of imminent doom. Like, am I supposed to be in this lane? Is that a speed limit? Are those… cows staring at me judgmentally?
- Afternoon (3:00 PM): Arrive at the holiday home. Pictures online showed… perfect. Reality? Pretty damn close! The place is gorgeous. The sauna, though… that's the real star. I'm already envisioning myself, a serene vision of relaxation, emerging from the sauna, glowing and enlightened. I'm pretty sure by the time I'm done with the sauna, I might just be sleeping inside the sauna.
- Afternoon (4:00 PM): Unpack. Try to work the coffee machine. Fail. Google "how to make decent coffee." Discover I forgot coffee. Facepalm.
- Evening (6:00 PM): Dinner. Something simple. Pasta, probably. Because I can make pasta anywhere. And because I already ate the leftover pasta from the night before.
- Evening (8:00 PM): The Sauna Experience… Take One. First, read the instructions (something I should have done BEFORE I got my hopes up). This feels incredibly important. Don't want a sauna-induced medical emergency on my first day. This will be the ultimate test. I’ve been wanting to go to the sauna for a long time, and the only thing on the list is the sauna.
Day 2: Cycling, Windmills, and the Potential for a Cheese Avalanche (Or Not)
- Morning (9:00 AM): Cycling! Rent bikes (assuming I can figure out how to shift gears). Explore the Dutch countryside. Imagine myself as a picture-perfect cyclist, effortlessly pedaling through tulip fields. (Reality will likely involve me wobbling precariously, yelling at some geese, and nearly decapitating myself with a rogue branch).
- Morning (11:00 AM): Actually cycle. Discover Dutch bike paths are pure genius, the kind of thing the rest of the world needs to copy. The scenery is even better than I imagined. Even though the wind is biting and the rain is threatening.
- Lunch (1:00 PM): Picnic lunch in a picturesque spot. Cheese, of course. And bread. And maybe some of those tiny Dutch waffles that are so addictive. If this isn't heaven, I don't want to be there.
- Afternoon (3:00 PM): Visit a windmill. Take photos. Try to understand how they work (probably fail). Feel a deep appreciation for the ingenuity of the Dutch.
- Afternoon (4:00 PM): Cheese shop. Try ALL the cheese. Buy ALL the cheese. (Potential for a cheese avalanche in my suitcase: high).
- Evening (7:00 PM): Dinner at a local restaurant, if I can find one that's not closed on a Tuesday. Traditional Dutch food? Sounds… interesting. It'll be an adventure, regardless.
- Evening (9:00 PM): The Sauna Experience. Round 2: Maybe longer this time. Hopefully, I will be in a much better position this time.
Day 3: Market Madness, Museum Musings, and the Sauna's Soothing Embrace (Again)
- Morning (10:00 AM): Explore a local market (if there is a local market. Again, research is apparently not my strong suit.)
- Morning (11:00 AM): Explore the market. Buy things I don't need. Try to haggle (in Dutch, which will be a disaster). Eat some local treats. Discover the true meaning of "gezellig" (probably involving cheese, again).
- Lunch (1:00 PM): Lunch at a cafe. Feel deeply European and sophisticated. (Probably spill coffee down my shirt, because, you know…)
- Afternoon (3:00 PM): Visit a museum. Van Gogh? Rembrandt? Something artsy and intellectual. Or, you know, whatever happens to be open.
- Afternoon (5:00 PM): The Sauna Experience. Round 3, aka the redemption round. My skin is on the verge of feeling amazing!
- Evening (7:00 PM): Re-evaluate my packing choices. Seriously, why did I bring that sweater?
- Evening (8:00 PM): Relax. Read a book. Watch a terrible movie on TV. Prepare for the ultimate test.
- Night (10:00 PM): The Sauna Experience. Round 4: This time, I am not going to leave this place. I am going to go completely crazy.
Day 4: Departure, Reflections, and the Lingering Scent of Sauna
- Morning (9:00 AM): Wake up. Feel… surprisingly good! Did the sauna actually work?
- Morning (10:00 AM): Pack. A slightly less chaotic process this time, thanks to the sheer joy of knowing the trip is coming to an end.
- Morning (11:00 AM): Final walk-through of the holiday home. Make sure I haven't left anything truly tragic behind.
- Lunch (12:00 PM): One last Dutch lunch. Something simple, probably. Maybe a croquette or something.
- Afternoon (1:00 PM): Drive back to the airport. Try not to get lost. Try not to cry when I get back on the freeway.
- Afternoon (4:00 PM): The flight home itself? Meh. Uneventful, safe, and I might have fallen asleep.
- Evening (7:00 PM): Back home. Empty suitcase. A longing for the Dutch countryside. And a deep appreciation for the power of the sauna. I will definitely be back. And maybe learn some Dutch. Eventually.
- Night (9:00 PM): Start planning the next trip. Because, let's be honest, I'm already dreaming of the next adventure!
Okay, spill. Is this "Escape to Paradise" really all it's cracked up to be? Because let's be honest, advertising is a LIAR.
Alright, alright, hold your horses. Look, I've seen the pictures. They're gorgeous. The website promises you'll transform into a zen master just by *looking* at the place. And...they ain't entirely lying. But paradise? It's more like...paradise *adjacent*.
Here's the deal. You pull up. The view? Stunning. Seriously, rewind, pause, and just drink it in. You walk in the door, and the air smells *amazing*. Like a spa, but not aggressively so. More like a comforting hug of wood and clean linen. BUT... (and there's always a "but," isn't there?) Finding the key was a bit of a treasure hunt. The instructions, as charming as they were, left me wandering around for a solid ten minutes mumbling to myself. "Where's the flippin' key, you mysterious Reutum house?!" Finally found it, though. Victory!
First impression: Stellar. Second impression, after I locked myself out trying to get a better Instagram shot of the view? Less stellar. (Don't judge. We all do it). But the feeling of relief and tranquility that comes with getting back inside is worth it, and I'm only slightly embarrassed. It's like having a really, REALLY good home, but one you have to work/earn to get back inside of.
The Sauna! Is it a sweat-fest of epic proportions? And the outside area? Good for more than just Instagram pics?
Oh, the sauna. My Achilles heel, my best friend! Yes, it's a sweat-fest. A glorious, purifying, "I don't think my sweat glands have ever worked this hard" kind of sweat-fest. They provide rocks and water, and you gotta do the thing. It's not those wimpy spa saunas; the heat genuinely kicks your backside. I went in once, my first time, and emerged looking like a lobster. Absolutely cooked.
The outside area...oh man. It's *good*. Seriously good. We're talking comfy chairs, a fire pit (bring marshmallows. Trust me), and a view that makes you want to spontaneously break into song. (I did. Several times. Luckily, nobody was around.). I spent a whole afternoon just reading and staring at the lake. Bliss! And the evenings? Forget about it. The sunsets are unreal. One night, the sky was on fire, oranges and reds and purples...I almost cried. Almost! Don't tell anyone.
Is it actually *luxurious*? Because some places call anything "luxury" these days. Is it actually worth the price tag?
Okay, this is a good question, and one I wrestled with. "Luxury" is thrown around willy-nilly these days. Think of it this way: Is it like staying in the Ritz? No. Is it like staying in a well-appointed, comfortable home with some seriously high-end features? Absolutely. The bed? AMAZING. Best sleep I've had in ages. The kitchen, all the bits and bobs, it's stylish and functional
Here's the real luxury: the feeling of *escape*. (Which, you know, is the whole point). You're away from the noise, the emails, the endless to-do lists. You could even embrace it. The time to just *be*. You can actually, you know, *hear* yourself think. For me, that's real luxury. Is it worth the price? Honestly? Yes. But, and this is a big BUT, I'd recommend going with a friend or partner to split the cost. Then you can enjoy the view and sauna more.
What's the deal with Reutum itself? Is there anything to actually *do* outside the house? Or am I going to be stranded in the middle of nowhere?
Alright, Reutum. Think of it as a...delightfully rural, almost too rural, postcard. It's not exactly a buzzing metropolis, let's put it that way. Plenty of nature though, which is why one goes in the first place. There's walking, cycling, and breathing in the fresh air. You're going to see more sheep than people. And that's kind of the point, isn't it?
There's a village near by, but honestly, for *me* the true appeal of escape is to *not* leave the house, and *not* see others. Though, to be fair, I did briefly consider wandering across the yard to speak to my neighbor, but I was too comfortable in my robe for all of that. So there's that too.
Are there any downsides? Because nothing's perfect. Spill the tea! (Or, you know, the herbal tea from the kitchen...)
Okay, here's the slightly less glamorous side of the story. The Wi-Fi, bless its heart, isn't exactly lightning fast. In the end, I was able to connect to the WiFi so I could stream something, but if you rely on constant connectivity for work, you might want to bring a portable hotspot. Also, and this is a minor quibble, but not a major issue, the kitchen, while stylish, could use another set of utensils. For a place that is designed to be so luxurious, and for a kitchen that had so much open space, this was one of the few things that really struck me. I did the best I could with the limited supplies, just like I did with the keys. The "less" luxurious parts of this house are like a personality point, in a way. Not everything is perfect, so you need to adapt and learn.
Then there was a brief moment of panic involving a swarm of (harmless) insects that decided to investigate the window. It was a moment. I handled it. The house is in the country, after all. Stuff happens. It could have been much worse. I am glad I did not have to use the hose. I like the hose. I'd have used it if I did, but alas, that was not the case.
But honestly? These are tiny, TINY hiccups. The positives far outweigh the negatives. I'd go back in a heartbeat. And probably will, as soon as my bank account recovers.
Any tips for making the most of the experience? Like, packing essentials?
YES! I have a list, the one that I have to hold back my desire of sharing. Okay, here we go!
- Bring a really good book (or two... or three). You'll have time to read. Oh, so much time.
- A comfy robe and slippers. Because, duh. Embrace the loungewear life.
- Dry Sauna accessories Water-proof flip-flops, a bucket and a scoop, a few essential oils to spice up your sauna, and your favorite cooling beverages!
- A speaker With good music, the sauna is a whole new experience.
- Marshmallows. For the fire pit. Consider s'mores.
- Snacks. Even if you plan on cooking, bring your favorites.
- A camera. Because theHotel Radar MapEnticing Holiday Home in Reutum with Sauna Reutum NetherlandsEnticing Holiday Home in Reutum with Sauna Reutum Netherlands
