The first time I walked barefoot along the beach at Coles Bay after years away, something in me softened.

The air felt the same as it did in childhood. That wild, clean smell of salt and earth. The golden pink glow of the Hazards at dawn and dusk. The sun throwing shadows through Sheoaks and pink granite. I had returned many times before, but this visit was different. I wasn’t here just to holiday or catch up with family. I was here because my nervous system needed the kind of rest I could no longer find in front of a screen, or on a yoga mat, or even in my own kitchen.

It needed land.
It needed rhythm.
And it needed to remember.

That was the beginning of the idea for the retreat — though I didn’t know it yet.

When food fear becomes fatigue

So many of the people I work with come in tired. Not just physically, but soul tired. Tired of thinking about food. Tired of lists and rules and second-guessing every bite. Tired of not knowing whether what they’re feeling is a flare, anxiety, or both.

I get it. I spent over 10 years on restrictive diets, blaming food for my symptoms and trying to feel better by cutting things out, one by one. Each thing I removed seemed to help a little, but it was never the full answer. I became afraid of beautiful, nourishing food — the very thing meant to support me.

And that’s the part so many people miss. It’s not always about more information. It’s about a felt experience of being supported. Of eating without worry. Of resting without needing to earn it. Of rebuilding a relationship with your body and your gut, through rhythm, not rules.

That’s what this retreat is about.

Microbiome care isn’t just about what we eat

Of course, food matters. What we feed our microbes influences everything from digestion to mood to immunity. But when I talk about rewilding the microbiome, I don’t mean taking twenty supplements or hunting down exotic fermented foods.

I mean eating slow, diverse, nutrient-rich meals in good company.
I mean walking barefoot on soil that hasn't been sprayed.
I mean laughing without flinching.
I mean sleeping without alarms.
I mean remembering that we are ecosystems too.

In clinical practice, we do the deep work of testing, prescribing, and building personalised plans. But here, on retreat, we do the other kind of healing. The kind that happens through beauty, safety, and space.

Why Freycinet

This place shaped me.
I grew up just outside the National Park, and the landscape still feels like an extension of my own body. There’s something about the beauty and wildness here that asks you to return to yourself.

It’s not dramatic. It’s not curated. It doesn’t perform for you.

It just is.

That’s why I chose it for the retreat. Not because it’s flashy, but because it offers the kind of quiet that changes you. The kind of space where digestion slows and breath deepens without you having to do anything at all.

The house we stay in is simple and beautiful. The food is thoughtful and nourishing. The group is small, just ten people, so no one feels lost in the crowd. And every part of the rhythm, from workshops to walks, is designed to support microbiome restoration in a real and embodied way.

It’s not a detox. It’s a homecoming.

This isn’t a place for rigid rules or heroics. You won’t be drinking green juices all day or waking up to a gong at sunrise.

You’ll be eating food that’s good for your gut and good for your heart. You’ll be learning, but gently. You’ll be resting in a way that doesn’t require guilt or justification.

For many people, this is the first time they’ve experienced care that isn’t rushed or transactional. It’s the first time they’ve felt held in community while doing something for themselves. That matters.

The microbiome isn’t just a collection of bugs. It’s a community. A system of relationships. And so is healing.

For the practitioners

This retreat is also for you.
If you’re the one holding space for others every day, writing treatment plans, sending out supplement links, replying to emails between clients — this is for you too.

You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to be nourished. You are allowed to take your practitioner hat off and come back to your body.

You don’t have to teach anything. You don’t have to fix anything. You just get to be in a space where your nervous system can land.

I’ve seen firsthand how transformative that can be.

A final word

Creating this retreat has been one of the most personal and purposeful things I’ve done in my work. It brings together everything I care about: evidence-informed education, nervous system care, microbiome restoration, food freedom, and a deep reverence for the earth.

It’s not for everyone. But if something in you feels drawn to it, to the idea of rest as medicine, to food as reconnection, to walking slowly beside the ocean while learning about the gut — I would love to welcome you.

→ Learn more about the Microbiome Retreat
→ Join the waitlist or reach out with questions