Search Your PostCode - Join free now!
Search Your PostCode
Discover millions of locals at no cost!
It was a cool, drizzly evening as I navigated through the cobblestone streets of the ancient Eastern European city. I was shivering, both from the harsh weather and the anticipation of what waited for. My consultant had actually recommended an unique massage parlour nestled in the middle of the historical centre; a facility renowned for its art, as much as its extravagance.
I had actually been taking a trip for weeks, checking out the vast expanse of the strange continent. My body ached from the continuous movement and the cold that had actually started to set in; I needed revitalization.
As I pressed open the heavy oak door, a gust of warm, fragrant air engulfed me. The mellow sound of sitar music coupled with the soft citrusy-woodsy scent gave the place an unusual, trance-like aura.
adult massage Coffinswell, asian massage Coffinswell, body to body massage Coffinswell, chinese massage Coffinswell, erotic massage Coffinswell, happy ending Coffinswell, massage parlours Coffinswell, massage therapist Coffinswell, nude massage Coffinswell, nuru massage Coffinswell, oriental massage Coffinswell, sensual massage Coffinswell, sex massage Coffinswell, tantra massage Coffinswell, tantric massage Coffinswell, thai massage Coffinswell
The receptionist, a small woman with dove-like eyes, welcomed me with a warm smile, ushering me towards a little, dimly lit room where I was to wait for my masseur.
As I waited, I unwinded the heavy layers of clothes, letting the warmth of the room seep into my skin. In the middle of the relaxing oriental music, I could make out the soft trickling sound of water from a nearby water fountain.
After what looked like an ethereal pause, the door creaked open. A high, lean figure stepped in, introducing himself as Dimitri, my masseur. He had a calm, soothing voice that contributed to the peaceful atmosphere.
As I lay down on the table, a sheet barely concealing my modesty, Dimitri began with his magic. His hands were warm and firm, a stark contrast to the biting cold exterior. The dim, warm candlelight cast shadows on the rustic stone walls, making it a surreal world, far from the ordinary.
He began my massage slowly, working his way through my wearied shoulders to my hurting back. His hands worked in rhythm, putting in pressure, releasing, moving - it felt like a synchronized dance of his fingers on my back. I sighed audibly, and Dimitri whispered, "Unwind.".
An hour passed, perhaps two, I might hardly tell. The room was so warm, the music so lulling, his touch so calming, and the extremely air tasted like harmony. It recovered, relaxed, and freed me more than I 'd ever thought possible.
Bell-like chimes stirred me awake. Dimitri gently informed me that my session was over. He left the room, enabling me a few private moments to relish the after-effects of an extraordinary experience.
As I ignored 'The Healing Place,' I carried with me a sense of complete satisfaction, a newfound regard for the art of massage. It was magic; it was an intimate dance, a poetry of touch that can change a weary tourist into an invigorated soul.
This is my memory of an expressive evening that led me to taste a slice of sensuous tranquility. I invite you to open your mind to explore the sensuous realm of massage parlours and enable yourself the indulgence of a life time. We're tourists in this large stretch of life, aren't we all looking for some recovery?
The Calmness of Serendipity - A Thai Massage Tale.
Long years of laboring behind a desk had left a long-term crescent-shaped curve on my spine. A little into my thirties, stiff neck, and back aches were becoming a better companion than any pet might ever be. On the recommendation of a well-meaning buddy, and conquering my hesitation, I found myself in front of the humble wooden façade of the distinguished "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the dynamic heart of the city.
As I actioned in through the ornately carved entranceway, I was covered in a calm wave of lemongrass-scented air. It cushioned the city's brusque disposition, giving way for the tranquility that Thai facilities are known for. I was greeted by Sayuri, her silver-kissed hair nicely bound, a radiant smile used her lips and her eyes shimmered with the understanding just experience brings.
Assisted into a poorly lit space ornamented with faintly flickering candle lights and the relaxing murmur of a bamboo waterfall, I was paralleled into another world. The air was ripe with the earthy scent of important oils, and soft critical music feathered through the silence, lulling my senses to peace.
Decked in a loose pair of thick cotton trousers and a t-shirt, as is popular for a Thai massage, I lay down on the mat, gazing at the ornate Asian art work on the ceiling. A ripple of stress and anxiety gnawed at me, however Sayuri's ultimate Thai amiability alleviated my chaos.
As the massage started, I might feel expert hands working their magic. Fingers kneading and pushing into tight muscles, sometimes fulfilling a knot where all the stress coagulated. My breath hitched as those tender knots were kneaded till they dissipated into nothingness.
She was a writer-- each pull, twist, and turn felt like a page torn from a tale, launching its secrets. I was caught off guard when she started utilizing her feet and elbows too, stretching my body with the precision so characteristic of Thai massages. The pushing of her feet versus my back cracked open the concealed vaults of repressed stress, and each fracture came up with a wave of relief.
The heat of the oils leaking into my skin, the rhythmic pressure alternating between extreme and relaxing, in addition to the oriental music that played in the background-- whatever co-existed in orchestrated consistency. Each motion of Sayuri's hands shook loose a bunch of suppressed memories, emotions, and crises, making my physique feel lighter and my soul feel unburdened.
And then, the grand ending. Sayuri transferred to abrade my scalp with vigor and vitality. It was as if every staying worry, every remaining idea, was unknotted from my head, drifting into the ether to oblivion.
As those hauntingly mundane ninety minutes engraved to an end, I was a brand-new guy, purified of the stress dogging my life, one knead at a time. The tightness in my neck that was an undesirable occupant for several years, made a quiet exit, leaving in its wake, newfound flexibility and relief.
The sound of sand trickling in an hourglass snapped me back to reality. I rose from the mat, my body humming its thankfulness, my mind cleared of its fog. Appreciation welling up in my heart, I thanked Sayuri, her eyes showing understanding and fulfillment.
Accidental as it was-- my foray into that Thai massage parlor left me an altered person -an introduction to an alternative dimension of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism could match. It became my escape, my journey towards self-discovery, and a testament to the therapeutic power of touch. An unforgettable experience!
Keep in mind - All of us look for solace, and in some cases it is available in the unlikeliest of places, like the Bangkok Sanctuary - a simple, yet fascinating Thai massage parlor in the heart of an energetic city.
My consultant had suggested a distinct massage parlour nestled amidst the historic centre; a facility renowned for its art, as much as its extravagance.
I invite you to open your mind to check out the sensual world of massage parlours and allow yourself the extravagance of a life time. On the suggestion of a well-meaning friend, and overcoming my hesitation, I discovered myself in front of the modest wood façade of the prominent "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the bustling heart of the city.
I was captured off guard when she began utilizing her feet and elbows too, stretching my body with the accuracy so particular of Thai massages. Unexpected as it was-- my foray into that Thai massage parlor left me a changed individual -an intro to an alternative measurement of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism might match.