Nusa Dua coastline: It was here that I decided to have my first massage....
I’m sitting by the pool, watching the sun drop over triangular terraces, when a hand squeezes my thigh.
“You want massage?” The voice comes from a stocky, slightly boisterous woman who despite asking a question, clearly is leading me to one answer. Before I can reply, she takes my hand and is doing some jedi-shit which leads me into a discussion with her as to whether I want a Swedish, Balinese or Shiatsu massage.
Twenty-five minutes later and I am sitting in the spa reception with my feet dangling in a bowl full of water, with flowers floating on top.
The boisterous masseuse I met at the pool, has decided that I should have an ‘aromatherapy massage’ and I am now stripped to my boxers waiting for further instructions.
A small girl comes in (which is slightly disappointing) as the older woman I encountered earlier, perfectly fits my stereotype of the perfect masseuse.
I am now face down on the bed, my head peering through the hole at another bowl of water with more floating flowers.
Suddenly my legs are being firmly pushed and then gripped, as I feel thumbs performing circular motions in the top of my calves. My first impression at this point is that, a massage is not the least bit erotic and so far not even relaxing.
Then, suddenly and without warning, my solar plexus is being pushed into the bed with such force that I consider a cough as the manly sign to let my masseuse know that this isn’t fun for me. I decide to remain silent as my mind drifts back twenty years to when my brother and I spent many a happy hour, beating the proverbial shit out of one another. Whilst considering the impact WWF Wrestling had on our early childhood, a tight clench on the top of my shoulders brings me back to the here and now. For the first time, my body starts to relax as the warm lavender oil washes over and absorbs into my skin. Any fears of whether my backside was hairy, spotty or both have long disappeared and I am now enjoying the experience for the first time. As my body enters into a state of détente, my mind drifts downwards to the floor where a small line of ants seem to be marching dutifully and with purpose.
They remind me how we as humans can be so regimental, repeating the same process – following the same path without deviation, over and over again.
Then I am separating strands of sleep with my surroundings, releasing that I was drifting into a deep sleep.
The masseuse now wants me to turn over and sit upright. Now I am at a 90 degree angle and once more enjoying the soothing effect that the oil is having, as it soaks and nourishes my dry, sun-damaged skin. In hot climates, I usually approach the sun with caution (dare I say even respect), but then I have one day of stupidity where I spend all day in the sun, burning to a crisp then hobbling back to my room with third degree burns so I can deal with my dizzy head and loose bowels.
That was days ago now and my peeling skin and bright red nose are a proud trophy providing testament that only mad dogs and Englishman go out in the midday sun (without sun cream and water).
I am sharply prompted back to the present by the masseuse pushing the top half of my body forward. I am worried now because she doesn’t know what I do – that I don’t really bend!!
At first a small smile forms on my face because my flexibility is better than I realised but soon I am back to the business end of my fighting days with my brother.
At anytime, if he had me in this position and was thrusting my head into my pelvic region with such force, I would have had to tap out or shout “submit” (a term that signified that one of us could take no more) and the other would bask in glory until next time.
Thankfully, I am being pulled upwards and switch once more to lay on my front. The fear of the unknown has now been replaced with a purely psychological issue. It seems strange to me to have someone touching you for one hour with no intimacy whatsoever, so I deal with this by closing my eyes and doing my best impression of pretending to be asleep.
As the masseuse works from my chest to my legs, I feel my body so relaxed now although I have pressure forming around my temples. After some reflexology, which was quite ticklish, the masseuse has me turn over once more in order to massage my neck and shoulders. The warm oil, hasn’t lost any of it’s effect and I am once more fully relaxed.
Now the masseuse is rubbing my head and although the oil she is rubbing into my hair just feels wrong, the tension is subsiding and I can feel my head and my mind giving way to the whole experience.
Before I know it, an hour has flown by and I am heading out the door after paying (50,000 IDR/$6/£4) and agreeing “the same time tomorrow?”.
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