the roads are getting nearer
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Tuesday, April 04, 2006
` Tuesday, April 04, 2006
I'm a self-proclaimed major spa aficionado. I've succumbed to numerous types of massages and scrubs, but after endless trials and discounted offers, my favourite is still the ol' comfy Swedish.
I wonder which deranged person would want to writhe in pain for a price in the first place. You go to a nice ambient spa, expecting to be pampered and given a soothing rub to end the day. Then you encounter the worst experience of your life, feeling like you just paid good money to enter a torture chamber.
Therein lied the unforgettably horrendous incident at a spa more well-known for its hunky owner than possibly its services. Last week, a hard-to-resist voucher came in the mail from a credit card promotion, trumpeting an hour-long Swedish massage going at an undisputable rate of $30 (usual price $98). The eager beaver in me responded as fast as lightning in making an appointment, especially straight after yet another red-eye return flight from my 'adopted' city. I was literally aching for a nice rub-down so that I could slump right into bed and have a good lie-in after the treatment (not that I had any trouble doing that in the first place though).
Upon arrival, the initial impression of the surrounds was it being tucked in a shopping arcade that time (and people) had probably forgotten. However, there were definitely attempts to dress the seating area in the style of a boudoir. Some brownie points for that. The counter was staffed with young, nubile girls probably counting down the time to a night out in town (given that it was a Saturday). Cordial, non-intimidating service (you know that feeling you get at some places where the hair stylist / masseuse / customer service person breathes down your neck about some "unbeatable one-time only promotion").
Good start to the experience, I reckoned, as I proceeded to complete a questionnaire that prompted for my "massage preferences" and body areas "requiring more attention". Ah, of course, the neck, shoulders and back were my favourite hotspots for a good rumble-and-roll. One of the counter girls then came over (did I mention that she was wearing a rather eye-popping top which would probably invoke a reaction in the non-female species?) to clarify on the 'exact firm-ness' of the massage to follow. Possibly unaware of my own pain threshold, I insisted that 'firm but gentle' was the way to go. Oh, and that's where the 'additionals' come into place, when she suggested that the massage oil be substituted by a superior "4 elements" one. At this point in time, I had somewhat anticipated the extra charges to appear on top of the so-called list price and recklessly relented.
I was greeted by a rather fierce-looking lady therapist, and from her heavily accented Mandarin, I gathered she was from the mainland. No issues with that. Lying face-down, she started slow and gentle, and I was temporarily gathering sleepy thoughts. Until she started elbowing my back with long, hard strokes. The half-an-hour 'workout' on the back that followed was one of the most teeth-grittingly painful I've ever experienced. I had to struggle fighting back tears as she pressed, kneaded and grinded her fingers and fists deep into the muscles, bone and skin (or what was left of my pitiful self). Although there were meek pleading requests to ease the intensity, these were defiantly ignored, as she was thoroughly convinced that my back muscles have stiffened so badly that they needed to be 'pulled apart'. Literally.
How I survived that was a miracle. I have never been kept so awake while lying down. I couldn't recall the last bits of the session, only recalling that my back felt like it was emitting heat. Needless to say, the next 2 days (up till today) were spent with a sore, aching back, the skin so tender that a slight tap would've made me cull the culprit. Post-session while making the payment, I was told that the therapist had used a combination of Western and tui na techniques to address my problem areas. I was convinced that I would never want to take up a package there, despite them insisting that the pain was 'good for me' and a brief period of not-so-subtle promotional hard-sell. I would still pay for feeling relaxed or rejuvenated, but at this point in time, I'd seriously think twice about trying a new offer. Especially tui na and shiatsu which I have now grown to fear rather than embrace for the sake of my physical well-being.
I was just relaying this experience with Vieee in the afternoon and we both concurred that the best therapists to date were the ones at the Aspara (Amara Hotel branch). No doubt, one always feels good after a session with them. So there, I've learnt my lesson the hard way.