"there are world-class spas in Vietnam?" So goes the universal mantra from friends and family worldwide, when learning I've been dispatched to investigate the blossoming spa culture here. In a land so long—synonymous with conflict and closed to the outside world just two decades ago, luxurious spas are not the first thoughts that spring to mind with this Socialist Republic.

Little wonder people are curious at this latest development—and they're not the only ones. My home since 1998, I'm even stunned—yet simultaneously delighted—at how quickly Vietnam is magically transforming itself into an exquisite resort and spa destination. It's a steep learning curve (and they're still playing catch-up with their more experienced Asian neighbors), but even as recent as three years ago, it would have been impossible to write more than a few words on the subject. Aided by an escalating economy and exploding tourism industry, Vietnam now has more spas than you can shake a bamboo stick at—and several claiming world-class awards to boot.

Remarkable that, despite being located in the epicenter of the Asian wellness zone, Vietnam cannot claim to have a spa culture of its own. Taking history into account, nurturing body and soul isn't part of the Vietnamese psyche—and hardly a priority. What spa elements that do exist are based on a diverse, indefinable range of ancient healing practices, administered privately for centuries by royalty, ethnic groups and older generations. These include therapeutic massage, Chinese-influenced heat cupping and foot reflexology, as well as medicinal herbal cure-alls, such as home-based steam infusions, heated compresses and baths.

However in the last few years, local and foreign investors have realized the untapped potential here. But, limited in native spa concepts—not to mention service skills—outside help was desperately required. Poaching an eclectic range of spa techniques, treatments and products from around the world, even management, is how the industry germinated. The result is a wonderful smorgasbord of spas offering eclectic menus, décor and styles—often reflecting wildly diverse surrounds. Compared to some generic branches found elsewhere in the region, Vietnam's spas are like a breath of fresh air. And as Asia's new kid on the block, the Vietnamese are oh-so-eager to please, from the welcome chilled towel and lemon grass tea to the mesmerizing smiles as they wish you "hen gap lai'' (see you again). There's also a home-grown twist: Those indigenous healing elements have found themselves resurrected and repackaged for a modern approach.

As Vietnam's largest city—and main economic hub—Ho Chi Minh (Saigon) boasts the highest concentration of spas. Pick of the crop is Xuan Spa, ensconced within the uber-stylish Park Hyatt Saigon. While Xuan Spa permeates French-Indochine elegance, it's the softly-spoken, Indian manager, Shektar, who stamps his expertise across the deluxe menu. The first spa offering Aryuvedic Indian treatments, Shektar suggests I try Shirodhara: warm sesame oil dripped slowly onto my "third eye." Along with a gentle body massage, he's right: It is beneficial for calming and aiding the thought process. Sadly, my Nirvana-like state survives just 20 minutes until I hit the city's anarchic traffic. Despite its five-star surrounds, Xuan underlines how Vietnam's spas—as of yet—refreshingly lack elitism and at US$55 for a 45-minute treatment, the real beauty of spas here are their refreshingly good value, which also soothes your typically overworked wallet.

To Dalat, up in the Central Highlands, it's only a 40-minute flight, or five-hour drive through tea plantations; whatever, it could be another planet. This former hill-station was a colonial favorite during the Indochina era for its invigorating cool climate, excellent hunting and pine forested hills. Still charming with French architecture, Dalat today is revered as Vietnam's market garden centre, with abundant, organically grown fruit and vegetables. Vietnam's only cool climate spas masterfully weave the region's unique traits into their services.

Bangkok-based Evason Six Senses Resorts & Spas restored 17 French villas from the early 20th century for their elegant Evason Ana Mandara Villas & Spa at Dalat resort—one houses the Six Senses Spa. Using fresh-from-the-market ingredients, treatments—such as Rose and Strawberry Body Polish (US$30)—result in obscenely glowing skin. And you get to soak off the gooey concoctions in classic, claw foot bath tubs.

A vintage Citroen automobile whisks me across town to L'Apothiquaire, up in the attic floor of the historic, exquisite Sofitel Dalat Palace hotel. Resembling a 17th-century French apothecary, the miniscule spa offers organic cuisine (from the kitchens of one of Vietnam's finest French restaurants), plus candlelit bath soaks à deux prepared in guestrooms. I opt for their signature treatment: coated head to foot in a wickedly scrumptious but beneficial Chocolate Fango Wrap (US$61). For seemingly forever, I lie smothered in melted chocolate, desperately trying not to lick my shoulders. (Note: Now would be a good time to pack off your other half to nearby Dalat Palace Golf Club, one of Asia's finest and oldest golf courses.)

I'm leaving Dalat and going tropical—and thankfully I can as Vietnam's 2,200-mile stretch of coastline has become a glorious backdrop for emerging resorts and spas. A four-hour drive up the coast from Ho Chi Minh and I'm in Mui Ne, Vietnam's fastest growing beach resort destination. Victoria Phan Thiet Beach Resort is one of several French-owned Victoria Resorts that mirror the surrounding environment. Thus, Spa - The Village is a native, beachside experience: The enclosed spa and its thatched treatment huts are made entirely of split bamboo and wood. Sea breezes replace air-conditioning and breaking waves are the sound system. The two-hour Complete Body Detox Package (US$55) features natural ingredients: fresh ginger and salt scrub, plus a mineral mud wrap where I am parceled up, like a delicious morsel, in banana leaves. Communal in nature, this delightful spa is not for the faint hearted, such as when my therapist scrubbed me down post-treatment in the outdoor showers.

Further up the coast, a similar au naturel, tropical experience is found at another Six Senses Spa. Nha Trang's most exclusive—and only—beachfront resort resembles a traditional community. When Evason's signature Six Senses Spa opened here with its pioneering 'balancing senses' concept in 2002, it became Vietnam's first world-class, award-winning spa. This is all the more admirable considering the resort is staffed by the local population, who were completely unversed in modern spa techniques just a short while ago. Locally accessible, natural ingredients such as sea salt, mud, green tea, coconut, aloe vera and coffee beans have been used timelessly in Vietnam for beautifying the skin at minimal cost. Like at Ana Mandara, an increasing number of spas now maximize these fresh products for pampering body treatments and bathing rituals.

Further north, there isn't much happening in Quy Nhon: this south-central beach city has little to offer, but head straight out from the airport for a 45-minute coastal drive to what is of interest—Vietnam's first authentic wellness centre, Life Wellness Resort Quy Nhon. A Dutch concept, the remote beachside resort successfully embraces a wellness, hideaway element throughout. So, too, does their timbered Balinese-style Life Spa Oasis camouflaged up in hillside gardens. Only the bamboo treatment huts, perched cliff-top, indicate the spa's whereabouts. The acclaimed destination spa aims at nourishing body, mind and soul. Invited to research their all-inclusive and pioneering Life Spa Programmes (from US$475), I'm placed on the De-Stress Programme. Fears of a regimented boot camp are unfounded: After consultations, the five-day program features customized combinations of de-stress treatments, cuisine and activities to my individual timetable. I skip beachside yoga classes (fearing my inflexible joints would give out), but gamely sample the Japanese Dry Sand and Salt Sauna, Pranayama Breathing, zombie-fying Hot Volcanic Stone Massage—and yummy Sea-bass in banana leaf.

Twenty minutes outside tourist magnet and 16th-century port town, Hoi An, my private car arrives at the all-villa Nam Hai, Vietnam's latest, most opulent resort. Slick staff, chandeliers in the bar, egg shell-lacquered sunken baths, infinity pools terraced down to a private beach—I'm speechless. Am I still in Vietnam? Listed among Condé Nast Traveler's "75 Hot Spas 2007," The Spa is equally sublime: eight pavilions edge a lotus-strewn lagoon, with miniature bridges linking treatment and relaxation sections. Even the disposable underwear is posh—stylish black g-strings. Their signature, three-hour ritual features a hybrid massage incorporating Balinese, Thai, Swedish and Hawaiian lomilomi techniques. Two therapists—one Balinese—simultaneously massage me darn-near all over (hence the g-string?), but it's oh so heavenly and any inhibitions dissipate away in the steam room. It's aptly called Nam Hai Indulgence; that and its US$260 price tag—Vietnam's costliest—take my breath away (literally).

Indonesian elements and exceptional massage techniques also feature at La Résidence H'99tel & Spa—two hours north, in the former Imperial capital of Hue. The spa (Le Spa) is housed within a former French Governor's riverside residence, restored to its 1930s art deco glory. Le Spa's Javanese Manager inspires with her "Massage, like a dance!" philosophy and several Indonesian inclusions on the menu. I may not be a Javanese bride preparing for my wedding night, but I still experience the traditional Javanese Lulur (US$50). Administered by Java's Royal Palace even today, this signature application features an exfoliating lulur paste, plus honey and yogurt. After this lavish treatment, I certainly am marriage material.

Practically all premier spa activity occurs in the tropical, beach-orientated South. Up in the North, one assumes the capital Hanoi would yield some outstanding spas—catering to the diplomatic core and burgeoning middle-classes. But offerings disappointingly lag behind southern rival Ho Chi Minh and even some remote southern provinces.

It seems that Hanoi also features the downside of this Wild West-like industry here: Seemingly anyone can slap up a spa shingle and tout 'contemporary Asian décor' in anticipation of all that dong rolling in. However, one stand-out is Zen Spa: A totally authentic Vietnamese experience and the only spa featuring solely traditional indigenous healing therapies—fitting, in the region where many of them originated from. These therapies are researched and modified by Hanoi native and owner, Ms. Huong Nguyen—who is keen to preserve these ancient practices. Her old-school nature experience features a cluster of thatched, rammed-earth and bamboo huts in a tranquil cornfield setting. Modern equipment doesn't feature (apart from, thankfully, sanitary aspects); human touch is predominant and most treatments incorporate fresh plants. It's like I've stumbled across some traditional rural community, yet Hanoi's urban chaos is a (hot) stone's throw away. Zen Spa aims to heal imbalances and calm through therapies such as Five Elements (from two hours, US$80), an ancient philosophy based on Metal, Fire, Wood, Water and Earth elements corresponding to internal organs. Vietnamese massage administered the correct way—with gentle stretching and pressure point techniques—mercifully doesn't hurt this time, unlike in some 'local' establishments. More Zen branches are opening nationwide, an increasing trend here.

Buffed, exfoliated and smoothed from my research, I've almost lost my top epidermis layer. But for Vietnam, it's more than skin deep; the past is banished to the history books and the country is joining forces with foreign entrepreneurs to make their economy flourish in this lucrative market. Spas are synonymous with peace, restoration and rejuvenation, and that's precisely where Vietnam is at—healing itself.