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It was a cool, drizzly evening as I browsed through the cobblestone streets of the ancient Eastern European city. I was shivering, both from the extreme weather condition and the anticipation of what waited for. My consultant had actually advised an unique massage parlour nestled in the middle of the historical centre; an establishment renowned for its art, as much as its indulgence.
I had been traveling for weeks, exploring the huge area of the mystical continent. My body hurt from the constant movement and the cold that had begun to embed in; I needed revitalization.
As I pushed open the heavy oak door, a gust of warm, scented air engulfed me. The mellow noise of sitar music combined with the soft citrusy-woodsy aroma gave the place an unusual, trance-like aura.
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The receptionist, a petite female with dove-like eyes, invited 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 clothing, letting the warmth of the space seep into my skin. Amidst the soothing oriental music, I might make out the soft trickling noise of water from a nearby fountain.
After what looked like a heavenly pause, the door creaked open. A high, lean figure actioned in, introducing himself as Dimitri, my masseur. He had a calm, calming voice that contributed to the peaceful ambiance.
As I put down on the table, a sheet hardly hiding my modesty, Dimitri started 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 away from the ordinary.
He started my massage gradually, working his method through my wearied shoulders to my hurting back. His hands worked in rhythm, putting in pressure, launching, moving - it seemed 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 space was so warm, the music so lulling, his touch so soothing, and the really air tasted like tranquility. It recovered, relaxed, and liberated me more than I 'd ever believed possible.
Bell-like chimes stirred me awake. Dimitri carefully informed me that my session was over. He left the space, allowing me a few personal moments to delight in the aftermath of an extraordinary experience.
As I left 'The Healing Place,' I carried with me a sense of satisfaction, a newfound respect for the art of massage. It was magic; it was an intimate dance, a poetry of touch that can change a tired traveler into an invigorated soul.
This is my memory of an expressive evening that led me to taste a slice of sensual serenity. I invite you to open your mind to check out the sensuous world of massage parlours and permit yourself the extravagance of a life time. After all, we're travelers in this vast area of life, aren't we all seeking some recovery?
The Serenity of Serendipity - A Thai Massage Tale.
Long years of laboring behind a desk had left a permanent crescent-shaped curve on my spine. A little into my thirties, stiff neck, and back pains were ending up being a more detailed companion than any family pet could ever be. On the recommendation of a well-meaning good friend, and conquering my doubt, I found myself in front of the simple wood façade of the popular "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the dynamic heart of the city.
As I stepped in through the ornately sculpted entryway, I was enveloped in a calm wave of lemongrass-scented air. It cushioned the city's brusque demeanor, giving way for the tranquility that Thai facilities are understood for. I was welcomed by Sayuri, her silver-kissed hair nicely bound, a glowing smile played on her lips and her eyes shimmered with the knowledge just experience brings.
Directed into a dimly lit room ornamented with faintly flickering candle lights and the calming whispering of a bamboo waterfall, I was paralleled into another world. The air was ripe with the earthy fragrance of vital oils, and soft instrumental music feathered through the silence, lulling my senses to calmness.
Decked in a loose pair of thick cotton pants and a shirt, as is traditional for a Thai massage, I lay down on the mat, staring at the ornate Asian artwork on the ceiling. A ripple of anxiety munched at me, however Sayuri's essential Thai amiability alleviated my turmoil.
As the massage started, I might feel expert hands working their magic. Fingers pushing and kneading into tight muscles, sometimes fulfilling a knot where all the tension coagulated. My breath hitched as those tender knots were kneaded till they dissipated into nothingness.
She was a storyteller-- each pull, twist, and turn seemed like a page torn from a tale, releasing its tricks. I was captured off guard when she started utilizing her feet and elbows too, extending my body with the accuracy so characteristic of Thai massages. The pushing of her feet versus my back cracked open the concealed vaults of repressed stress, and each fracture produced a wave of relief.
The heat of the oils permeating into my skin, the balanced pressure alternating between soothing and extreme, along with the oriental music that played in the background-- whatever co-existed in orchestrated consistency. Each movement of Sayuri's hands shook loose a bevy of bottled-up memories, feelings, and crises, making my physical body feel lighter and my soul feel unburdened.
And then, the grand finale. Sayuri transferred to abrade my scalp with vigor and vitality. It was as if every remaining worry, every remaining thought, was unknotted from my head, floating into the ether to oblivion.
As those hauntingly ordinary ninety minutes etched to an end, I was a brand-new man, cleansed of the tension dogging my life, one knead at a time. The tightness in my neck that was an undesirable renter for several years, made a quiet exit, leaving in its wake, newfound flexibility and relief.
The noise of sand dripping in an hourglass snapped me back to reality. I rose from the mat, my body humming its gratitude, my mind cleared of its fog. Appreciation welling up in my heart, I thanked Sayuri, her eyes reflecting understanding and complete satisfaction.
Unintentional as it was-- my foray into that Thai massage parlor left me a changed individual -an intro to an alternative dimension of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism could match. It became my escape, my journey toward self-discovery, and a testament to the therapeutic power of touch. An unforgettable experience undoubtedly!
Remember - All of us seek solace, and in some cases it is available in the unlikeliest of places, like the Bangkok Sanctuary - an easy, yet captivating Thai massage parlor in the heart of a boisterous city.
My consultant had actually recommended a special massage parlour nestled in the middle of the historical centre; a facility renowned for its art, as much as its indulgence.
I invite you to open your mind to check out the sensuous realm of massage parlours and allow yourself the indulgence of a life time. On the recommendation of a well-meaning pal, and conquering my doubt, I found myself in front of the modest wooden façade of the distinguished "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the bustling heart of the city.
I was caught off guard when she began using her elbows and feet too, extending my body with the precision 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 dimension of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism could match.
|st georges well
|st giles in the wood
|st giles on the heath