Eco Lodges at Peninsula Hot Springs is the Zen Break You Need
We could all improve the quality of our sleep but can an overnight spa stay at one of Peninsula Hot Spring’s new Eco Lodges ensure a good night’s rest? Natalie Reilly investigates.
Trying to sit on the ledge in my private geothermal pool is no easy task. The 42°C water, poured in just after I arrive at Peninsula Hot Springs, is full of minerals, including magnesium, sodium and boron. It’s meant to relax muscles, nourish skin and – the biggie – ensure a great night’s sleep.
The problem is that the mineralised water makes me so buoyant I’m unable to stay seated. Instead, I float to the surface as if I’m wearing a life jacket. My head is halfway out of the pool and all I can see is bushland, punctuated by the occasional bird. Day guests wearing the supplied fluffy robes are out of sight, milling around the communal pools, spa and sauna, where the café and restaurant are located. Here in one of the property’s three Eco Lodges, it’s just me, soaking up the minerals and the stillness of the day with my knees bobbing above my tummy.
Built on a geothermal site that draws water from 637 metres underground, Peninsula Hot Springs, a 90-minute drive from Melbourne in Fingal on the Mornington Peninsula, has been a stalwart of the wellness scene for the past 28 years. The Eco Lodges were added to the property in late 2024, each of them designed to promote serious slumber. A sleep mask, mineral bath salts, magnesium spray and herbal teas are on the bedside table when I arrive and the desk drawer has a journal and pen so I can write down troublesome thoughts that may be keeping me awake. (The massage I have in a low-lit hut 30 metres away probably helps, too.)
The lodges are built of timber and the spacious kitchen, lounge room and bedroom (with huge windows overlooking the pool) have a luxurious feel. The polished floorboards, naturally heated by the geothermal waters, timber ceilings and gumleaf-coloured bedroom carpet blur the border with the surrounding bush.
As I stroll along the crunchy gravel path towards the Spa Dreaming Centre dining room, staff member Donna pulls up in her golf buggy to offer me a lift. She urges me to check out the hilltop pool, one of more than 70 bathing experiences here, at sunset. “You overlook the entire centre – the view is beautiful,” she says. But after a dinner of fresh barramundi, kipfler potato and a glass of chardonnay, I decide to meander back to my room, passing more fluffy-robed guests, including Milly and her husband, Peter, who come here regularly to ease her joint pain.
Inhaling the crisp air, I drift sleepily inside, the lights now dimmed to encourage my natural circadian rhythm. Climbing between the soft sheets of the king-sized bed, I check my phone – it’s not yet 7pm. I drift off and stir just once, at 11pm (a feat I haven’t managed since I was a kid), before waking up properly at 8am. What just happened?
After coffee, scrambled eggs and field mushrooms from the buffet breakfast, I’m ready to leave. “Are you sure you don’t have time for one more soak?” asks the woman at the front desk. I don’t but I’ve already begun calculating when I can return.
