Having spent three months working in sweaty, restrictive Jakarta, my mother wanted a luxury break. After months of tight deadlines, travelling and visitors, I wanted a holiday that would restore my mind, body and soul. “I want to shop and lie by the pool,” said Mum. “I want to know that my presence benefits the community in some way,” said I. It looked like Mum and I were going to be taking separate holidays until I stumbled on a pair of twin hotels in East Bali that ticked all the right boxes: luxurious, eco-conscious and with access to treatments and experiences to open the mind.

Mum had arrived at Alila Ubud a day earlier than I and, when I get there, we take our fruit basket and sit on the balcony, catching up. “Oh look,” says Mum, “monkeys.”

As we watch, a family of grey macaques scamper around the pool. A pair of adolescents appear on the thatched roof of the rooms in front of us and another group comes across the grass. They seem to be heading our way. Next thing we know, there are eight monkeys swinging in the tree right in front of our balcony and Mum and I abandon our fruit and race inside, closing the glass doors. “Well, you did say you wanted to be close to nature,” giggles Mum as we watch the monkeys devouring our afternoon snack.

There’s no sign of our furry friends as we make our way up to the sculpture garden for our early-morning tai chi session. The class is basic, but the setting spectacular — we’re overlooking a vine-tangled ravine and far below us the Ayung River carries on, smoothing away the volcanic earth. Birds chirp and the sunshine is filled with promise.

After breakfast, we head up to the hotel’s spa for a shirodhara treatment. This is a first for both of us and I’m praying it won’t be too out-there for Mum, who is well-acquainted with spas but has never had warm oil poured over her third eye. Our treatment room is a breezy, open-air Balinese hut pavilion built of heavy, dark wood. Curtains, bowls and other adornments are coloured olive and cream, complementing the jungle beyond and, as we settle in, I am confident that whatever comes next will be nothing short of bliss.

Sure enough, the massage is heavenly, but when the oil starts pouring, it’s like the cells in my brain and nervous system have lit up. Everything is tingling, but this is accompanied by a deep sense of calm and my heartbeat remains slow and steady. The feeling shoots down the front and back of my neck, reaching into my limbs. I’m not sure, but I think I am wiggling my toes with pleasure.

When the oil eventually stops and we’ve recovered enough to lift our greasy heads, I ask Mum what she thought of that. “Amazing,” she mumbles before lying back to stare once more at the green glow around us.