Yesterday KA and I went to a Thai Spa in a far corner of the Ipswich Kingdom and had a massage.
I love the way they have planted a forest in the foyer and made the ceiling out of giant louvers so that when it rains, they roof can open to let it in. Fabulous! Of course, I don't really like to think of what this means in terms of the whole ecosystem of insects and all the things that eat insects so it is not something you might really want to incorporate anywhere you actually sleep, but in a ritzy spa, it is pretty cool.
Anyway, our session started with a steam room treatment, and neither of us has experienced that before. I don't know why the hell I agreed to it, given how much I detest being hot and sweaty, but somehow I was a bit intimidated by the tiny women who effortlessly shepherded us into the room. We were left alone to get out of our very un-ritzy clothes and into a kimono style robe and soak our feet in bowls of warm water with slices of lime floating in them. We were soaking in the warm water and agreeing "Gee this is pretty nice", and I could see a little towl next to the bowl and I just thought we would towl oursleves off in a minute, but then a stranger kneeled in front of me and in a flash a vice-like grip has speared right into the vulnerable flesh of my stress-knotted and ticklish-tender feet, which startled the crap out of me and I yelped.
"Just breathe", she said, smiling, and squeezed again. I don't think she meant to be evil, but I quailed. It felt more personal than I was ready for. They washed our feet! I did live through it, but I was culturally, politically and physically uncomfortable with the process.
The opening gambit out of the way, we were herded into the steam room. It looked innocuous enough - like the steam that hangs around after a really hot shower (but with a wooden bench seat added to the cubicle). Knowing it would only be for about 10 or 15 minutes we both acted brave. This lasted through a few jokes, one or two snippits of gossip and basically until the thermostat realised the temp was a long way from the requiste 45degrees and ramped things up.
I now have a fair indication of what the waiting room for hell might be like.
The rationale is that the heat relaxes one's muscles and makes the overall effect of the massage greater. The outcome was that both of us began gasping for breath and flailing around a little in shock. Once again there was a large gap between knowing it would be "wetter" than a sauna and the horrific shock of the experience and my over-active imagination seeing my dead body on the searing hot tiles drained of all fluid through my skin.
"I have to get out for a second!" I shouted over the silent whirlwind of steam.
"Don't yell, you'll use up all the air!" said Kerryn pretty calmly really.
So I staggered to the door and started trying to slide it open. IT. WOULD. NOT. BUDGE.
The more I try and slide it the weaker I feel and everything's wet and the sweat is stinging my eyes and my lips have gone a bit rubbery and I'M REALLY BEGINNING TO FREAK OUT and i'm calling to Kerryn to help me (we're in a 2m square cubicle) and finally I realise that she's been yelling and laughing over me
"JUST PUSH! Push! Push the door!"
oh.
I push and escape. We'd been in there 4 minutes.
Kerryn is laughing heartily (ie she can barely breathe) by now and after i splash a little cool water onto my face and have a bit of a sip I was able to admit that maybe I'd over-reacted a little and possibly I was a bit stressed and could do with sitting still for another 10 minutes. If anyone outside heard me screaming, no one came to check on us. Probably they just noted it on my file "utter coward".
We went on to be pummelled and cracked and massaged down to squidgy pulps over the course of an hour. KA didn't realise that the masseuses would climb up onto the table and straddle our (considerable) girths in order to pierce through our shoulder blades with their thumbs, but she took it in her stride and merely congratulated them later to me for the flexibility of their hips.
It was, all in all, a marvellous adventure. The beautiful decore was calming and luxurious> our hosts had gorgeous smiles and talons of steel and at the end of it, my smile had returned. I *love* flex days.
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