'Spa-ing' Partners

OK blokes, have you ever wondered what goes on behind the doors of those sweet-smelling vessels of female indulgence and escapism known as day-spas? Let me enlighten you.

During a much-needed retreat to Noosa with my best friend last weekend (see Long Division post below) we booked in for the ‘Ultimate Indulgence Package’ at the Aqua Day Spa in search of beautification and relaxation. I was admittedly a little nervous about the experience – particularly when I read that I’d be the subject of a ‘full body kelp wrap’. I pictured myself, dignity stripped, being served as gourmet sushi at a Japanese restaurant.

So, what was the full body wrap experience like? Well it was a little embarrassing – a feeling I suspect had something to do with the disposable paper g-string I was required to wear throughout!! I know I don’t ‘get out’ much but I honestly thought that thing was a shower cap until I joined the dots and my friend found me staring at it, perplexed, in the salubrious surrounds of the change room. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked her. I mean, I’m all for sexy underwear but there was something really off-putting about this little number! The fact that she (approaching two metres in height with a body to rival Nicole Kidman’s) looked so amazing in her paper g-string didn’t help! But I got brave and donned the flimsy thing and just hoped the kelp-wielding beauty therapists wouldn’t laugh at me.

On a bench in the elegant waiting area were oatmeal cookies and herbal tea…I wondered if these constituted the products with which we’d be ‘buffed and polished’. We had to fill in wordy forms describing our expectations and health status before proceeding and there were questions like “do you want your breasts massaged?” and “would you prefer a male or female therapist?” Alarm bells were ringing at this point but I just kept breathing deeply and chanting “I’m not a prude” and “there’s no need to be ashamed of my body” unconvincingly under my breath.

Shortly thereafter, I was ushered into something called a ‘Vichy spa room’ (which conjured up thoughts of complicity with Nazism rather than relaxation) by a smiling American (“Thank God, she’s a woman!”) therapist and asked to lie down on a vinyl-covered bed resting in a bathtub which was flanked by high pressure hose units. “Weird”, I thought. Then, I was cleansed and exfoliated all over with earthy smelling products that left my skin tingling and engendered an unexpected sense of mind-numbing relaxation. Next, I was asked to sit up while she spread something on the foil blanket beneath me. It smelled foully of rotten ocean debris but I wasn’t prepared for the sensation of lying in this stuff. “Eeeeeooooowww - what is this sludge?”, I asked, recoiling. She explained that it was a kelp-based gel designed to purify and dexotify the skin while helping to combat cellulite (no doubt it's also useful for achieving world peace and combating poverty). It felt like warm pureed seaweed mixed with rock salt and that sticky green viscous substance kids play with. So, I’m lying in this stuff and then she spreads another layer all over the top of me – no crevice missed – before I’m literally wrapped up in the crinkly foil layer and left to 'cook' for 20 minutes.

Despite the way it sounds, it was a surprisingly pleasant experience. I was toasty warm and felt secure, enveloped as I was, while I enjoyed a hair treatment and head massage. Bliss arrived in the form of total relaxation and mental oblivion by the time I was ‘unwrapped’ and I didn’t even flinch at being hosed down, under high pressure, like a vehicle in a car wash. “What election? What PhD? What stress? What turmoil?” I asked myself as the layers of muck were washed away.

Next came the full-body aromatherapy massage – more relaxation and much sweeter smelling. At some point during this hour I fell asleep and when I tried to open my mouth to speak I realised my tongue was so relaxed I couldn’t form vowel sounds! It was at this stage I suggested the players in the next round of Middle East peace talks sign up for the ‘Ultimate Indulgence Package’ before opening their mouths.

But the relaxation didn’t stop there. There was a deluxe facial and some overdue grooming before a pedicure complete with paraffin wax treatment – an extraordinary sensation which involves your feet being coated in hot liquefied wax and wrapped in plastic bags before the substance sets and is wiped clean, revealing the feet of a 14 year old.

Five hours later we stumbled back to our room, smelling heavenly and feeling as soft as silk. I, for one, felt like I’d just enjoyed the best sex of my life (without any of the hassles ;o) 'adminstered' in combination with mind-clearing psychotherapy (OK, so maybe that description equals a slight exaggeration - I'm not ready to replace men with a day-spa just yet - but you get the picture, right?). Later that night we ‘went to bed’ with George (Clooney), Brad (Pitt) and Matt (Damon) in ‘Oceans 13’ and I slept like a baby… Pure oblivious bliss.

So, what’s the moral to this insider’s tale of day-spa indulgence? Paper g-strings aside, gals get yourself to a day spa stat. and blokes join them if you dare.