When An Astrology Skeptic Goes on a Zodiac-Themed Retreat in St. Lucia

I know this makes me a bad queer, but I'm not drawn to astrology culture. Someone dubbed it "birthday racism" on Twitter years ago and I've never been able to shake it. Sure, I know a few obnoxious people born in March, but you won't catch me hexing every Pisces or Aries that walks into my life. As a victim of zodiac discrimination myself (I'm a Scorpio), I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy (who actually happens to be a Leo).

But unlike its loudest critics, my aversion to astrology is not based in some chest-thumping, Western-science-supremacist ideology. I don't recoil because it offers a more spiritual, intuitive read of the universe. If anything, I want more of that in my life. But the astrology industrial complex has moved so far from that. I don't care what an algorithm has to say about my Pluto in the sixth house, or which signs make the best lovers. It's all too much like a competition — like I was dropped into a SoulCycle class when I signed up for meditation. Where's the awe? Where's the wonder? I just want to howl at the moon!

Suffice to say, when I was recently invited on a "zodiac-based retreat" at the StolenTime resort in St. Lucia, I was deeply skeptical. Typically when I travel, I'm hoping to engage with local culture rather than impose anything that could be construed as Americanized nonsense, and the idea of prancing around with an itinerary shaped by my star sign felt a little arrogant at best and culturally insensitive at worst.

Despite my reservations, I decided to say yes to the trip. It was booked for right after my birthday and a week after the election, so I figured some escapism — while usually not my style — might be a decent way to temporarily soothe my anxiety about growing older in a country run by authoritarian sympathizers. I told myself I'd choke down the astrology stuff as best I could and just try to focus on the lush island, the mellow water, and the sweet rum cocktails. Somehow I'd make it through. (Cue the world's smallest violin.)

Over Zoom a few nights before takeoff, I met with Tali Edut, one half of the renowned astrology duo AstroTwins, who put together individual itineraries based on each traveler's sun sign. (Launching next year, the twins have partnered with the resort to offer guests similar "bespoke wellness itineraries" based on their zodiac signs for what they're calling "astrology themed months.")

I resolved to go into my session with an open mind. Edut performed the most in-depth chart reading I'd ever had, laying out how my Gemini moon means I'm sometimes more playful than the average Scorpio, and why my north node in Libra means I might sometimes struggle with relationships. I was impressed by the thorough breakdown, even if it felt a little prescriptive. By the end, I found myself resonating with what she said, and even sort of . . . enjoying it?

After the reading, the AstroTwins sent me a brief summary of my sign-specific "vacation vibe" along with my itinerary, broadly detailing what sorts of foods to reach for and what activity styles we might especially enjoy. Mine encouraged plenty of time in the water (hi, water signs), lots of spicy foods, and time to turn inward for some much-needed introspection.

Freshly 29 — and with my entire astrological personality read to filth by a stranger on the internet — I boarded my direct flight from Boston to Vieux Fort, ready to embrace my specially curated Scorpio itinerary at StolenTime.

Read on for my takeaways from my first-ever astrology-themed trip.

Being that Scorpio is a water sign, it tracks that the itineraries for the two Scorpios on the trip included a full morning of snorkeling.

I'm still not convinced it has much to do with when I was born, but it's true that I'm a lifelong water-lover. Whenever possible I like to mark big life transitions with a cleansing plunge into a body of saltwater, and if I weren't a journalist, I'd probably be a marine biologist. Naturally, I savored the opportunity to get out on a boat and into the Caribbean Sea at Anse Cochon, a reef that curves along a stretch of low, rugged cliffs. With a gaggle of other neon vest–clad tourists, I squirmed around at the surface, pointing excitedly at the big parrot fish and moray eels below, and the brown boobies soaring above. Whether or not it was good for my inner Scorpio, it was definitely good for my soul.

The Scorpio summary also emphasized our sensuality, intensity, and the need to "center" ourselves — something I was able to do a lot of at StolenTime and around the island. A highlight of my itinerary involved a mud bath in the volcanic sulfur springs of Soufrière, at the foot of the Pitons mountains. It was a two-hour drive from the resort to the dormant volcano, where natural springs bubble with nourishing gray mud and scalding freshwater pools. (And I wasn't complaining about the stop at the local chocolate factory on the way there either.)

My itinerary also called for a full-body massage back at the resort, in a peaceful treatment room above the water garden and one of the property's main relaxing pools.

While on the island, the AstroTwins recommended Scorpios opt for boldly spiced meals and lots of seafood. (Again, no complaints.) Our group mostly ate from the resort's three on-site restaurants: a daily buffet, an upscale dining room serving French classics, and a feet-in-sand beachside dining experience that specialized in elegantly presented local fish. My favorite meal of the trip was the grilled lobster with creole sauce at the latter restaurant — the earthy, smoky, briny flavors melded even better with the backdrop of the waves.

It's hard to have a bad time in a place as beautiful as St. Lucia, and I certainly am no exception. Plus, I do think the astrology element, while not really my thing, does make this vacation package stand out from more generic all-inclusive offerings in similar destinations around the world. (The astrology retreats will be available beginning in 2025, with rates starting at $805 per night on an all-inclusive basis for double occupancy.)

While my Scorpio itinerary aligned well with my personal interests, I was able to easily tack on experiences that weren't initially slated for the Scorpios, like a sunset cruise and a night out at the Gros Islet street party, a weekly fete featuring local DJs, endless food carts packed with grilled lobsters and curried meats, and lots of free-flowing alcohol. While I think the AstroTwins did a good job of assigning sign-specific activities, travelers can also easily use the astrology element to supplement an itinerary of their own creation, mixing in excursions that don't perfectly align with their sign but align with their individual personality.

When it came time to leave, I reflected on how disembodied modern-day astrology can feel. A lot of the knowledge-sharing happens online, through apps and social media, where it's too easy to flatten ourselves and our deliciously complicated personhood into stereotypes and generalizations. In those spaces, it's hard for me to authentically appreciate this ancient practice and the potential it holds to deepen our connections not just to ourselves, but our planet and our solar system. But to my delight, there were moments on this trip when I was able to marry mind and body, and to actually inhabit the astrology rather than experience it secondhand from a screen.

The initial idea of a zodiac retreat did make me wince. I figured at that point I might as well walk into a hole-in-the-wall bakery in the capital city of Castries, glance at the shelves stocked with dense, hand-milled cassava breads and steamed paime pies, and ask for a cronut. But now, having done one, I see the appeal. If I were to do another, I'd hope it would lean into the spirituality even more. I would love a lesson about the connection between the zodiac and the destination, and about the spiritual practices that have shaped the culture of that specific place throughout history, astrologically or otherwise. With that deeper analysis, it's sure to steer clear of gimmick territory and maybe even rope in a few more skeptics like me.

Emma Glassman-Hughes (she/her) is the associate editor at PS Balance. In her seven years as a reporter, her beats have spanned the lifestyle spectrum; she's covered arts and culture for The Boston Globe, sex and relationships for Cosmopolitan, and food, climate, and farming for Ambrook Research.