Before our flight to Phuket, we decided to spend the morning in one of the luxury spas on Samui, the Mandara Spa. After a mini heart failure at the price we trotted off to our haven of pampering - a beautiful wooden hut with an outside bathroom complete with sunken bath and rose petals.
The session started with the ubiquitous giggling fit at the disposable pants they make you wear. I'd heard Simon's story of their Thai massage experience so was sort of expecting it but it doesn't stop the hilarity when you put them on. Has no-one explained to them yet that one size does not fit all and that nylon gussets are not the most healthy experience? I was particularly disturbed when I discovered a pair from the previous guest on the side and even more so when I saw how attached Greg was to his.
But I have to say that the rest of the experience was heavenly. Compared to the beach/high street places, the staff are very discreet and don't make it at all embarrassing. I was a queen for two hours but as with all the massages I've had, it doesn't matter how long it lasts, its never enough.
ah the pants...I remember the pants!
This was the same chain of spas that we had in our hotel - they were very nice. Did you start of with the tea and nice foot rub?
Posted by: Simon | Monday, 07 November 2005 at 12:04 PM
It is so weird how massage talk has become everyday acceptable. It has got to be your trendy thirty somethings dinner party latest thing replacing property prices and private school options for little Ollie and Evie. As far as I can tell from the very few dinner parties I go to, the babyboomer generation's indulgences are not for public discussion. On the North Shore, it is purely therapeutic and preferably claimable on yer private medical.
Posted by: LC | Monday, 07 November 2005 at 09:03 PM