My Week At An Austrian Fat Camp
Unpleasantly pudgy? Allergic to exercise? Give yourself over to Austria’s elite spas. Owen Matthews reports on the pleasures of vegetable broth and colonic irrigation.
Ecce homo: Behold the man. He is talented, happy and prosperous. He is admired by his fellows; pretty girls at parties laugh at his jokes. In his own mind he is at the zenith of his life, a man in full.
And yet the mirror shows a man a little over-filled. In shop windows he catches sight of a portly middle-aged gentleman whom he seems to recognize—this fatty looks strangely like himself, only larger. Some hung-over mornings he looks into the mirror and finds a pudgy Nosferatu looking back at him. Finally, he buys a set of electronic scales and discovers the 115-kilo truth. The Internet tells him that fat will kill more surely than booze or even smoking. The time has come to take urgent action.
But what to do? Dieting is depressing. Vigorous exercise is sweaty and undignified. Abstinence is not his style. He wants maximum gain (or rather loss) for minimum pain.