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It was a cool, drizzly night as I browsed through the cobblestone streets of the ancient Eastern European city. I was shivering, both from the severe weather and the anticipation of what awaited. My consultant had advised an unique massage parlour nestled amidst the historic centre; an establishment renowned for its art, as much as its extravagance.
I had actually been traveling for weeks, checking out the vast area of the mystical continent. My body hurt from the continuous movement and the cold that had actually begun to embed in; I needed revitalization.
The parlour, called 'The Recovery Place,' was a traditional stone building embellished with ivy. A mild, warm glow originated from within, inviting, basically whispering to me, "Come inside." As I pressed open the heavy oak door, a gust of warm, aromatic air engulfed me. The mellow noise of sitar music coupled with the soft citrusy-woodsy fragrance provided the place an uncommon, trance-like aura.
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The receptionist, a petite woman with dove-like eyes, welcomed me with a warm smile, ushering me towards a little, poorly lit space where I was to wait on my masseur.
As I waited, I unraveled the heavy layers of clothing, letting the heat of the space seep into my skin. I closed my eyes attempting to enjoy the moment. In the middle of the relaxing oriental music, I might make out the soft dripping sound of water from a nearby fountain. It provided a freshness, a sense of relief.
After what appeared like an ethereal time out, the door creaked open. A high, lean figure stepped in, introducing himself as Dimitri, my masseur. He had a calm, relaxing voice that included to the serene ambiance.
As I lay down on the table, a sheet barely concealing my modesty, Dimitri started with his magic. His hands were warm and firm, a plain contrast to the biting cold outside. The dim, warm candlelight cast shadows on the rustic stone walls, making it a surreal world, far from the ordinary.
He started my massage slowly, working his method through my wearied shoulders down to my aching back. His hands worked in rhythm, putting in pressure, releasing, moving - it felt like an integrated dance of his fingers on my back. I sighed audibly, and Dimitri whispered, "Unwind.".
An hour passed, perhaps 2, I might hardly inform. The room was so warm, the music so lulling, his touch so soothing, and the very air tasted like harmony. It healed, unwinded, and freed me more than I 'd ever thought possible.
Bell-like chimes stirred me awake. Dimitri carefully notified me that my session was over. He left the space, permitting me a few private moments to enjoy the after-effects of an extraordinary experience.
As I left 'The Recovery Place,' I brought with me a sense of complete 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 a renewed soul.
This is my memory of an evocative night that led me to taste a slice of sensual serenity. I welcome you to open your mind to explore the sensual realm of massage parlours and enable yourself the extravagance of a life time. We're travelers in this huge area of life, aren't we all seeking some recovery?
The Peacefulness of Serendipity - A Thai Massage Tale.
Long years of laboring behind a desk had left an irreversible crescent-shaped curve on my spinal column. A little into my thirties, stiff neck, and back pains were ending up being a better companion than any pet might ever be. Thus, on the recommendation of a well-meaning friend, and overcoming my hesitation, I found myself in front of the modest wooden façade of the distinguished "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor hid in the busy heart of the city.
As I stepped in through the ornately carved entryway, I was covered in a calm wave of lemongrass-scented air. It cushioned the city's brusque disposition, giving way for the serenity that Thai establishments are known for. I was greeted by Sayuri, her silver-kissed hair nicely bound, a radiant smile played on her lips and her eyes sparkled with the understanding only experience brings.
Assisted into a poorly lit room ornamented with faintly flickering candle lights and the relaxing whispering 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 set of thick cotton pants and a t-shirt, as is popular for a Thai massage, I lay down on the mat, looking at the ornate Asian artwork on the ceiling. A ripple of stress and anxiety nibbled at me, but Sayuri's ultimate Thai amiability eased my chaos.
As the massage started, I could feel professional hands working their magic. Fingers pressing and kneading into tight muscles, sometimes meeting a knot where all the stress coagulated. My breath hitched as those tender knots were kneaded until they dissipated into nothingness.
She was a writer-- each pull, twist, and turn seemed like a page torn from a tale, launching its secrets. I was caught off guard when she started utilizing her elbows and feet too, stretching my body with the accuracy so particular of Thai massages. The pressing of her feet versus my back broken open the hidden vaults of quelched stress, and each crack produced a wave of relief.
The heat of the oils leaking into my skin, the balanced pressure alternating between extreme and soothing, in addition to the oriental music that played in the background-- whatever co-existed in managed consistency. Each movement of Sayuri's hands shook loose a bunch of pent-up memories, emotions, and crises, making my physique feel lighter and my soul feel unburdened.
And after that, the grand ending. Sayuri transferred to abrade my scalp with vigor and vitality. It was as if every staying concern, every sticking around thought, was unknotted from my head, floating into the ether to oblivion.
As those hauntingly mundane ninety minutes engraved to an end, I was a new guy, purified of the stress dogging my life, one knead at a time. The stiffness in my neck that was an undesirable renter for years, made a peaceful exit, leaving in its wake, newly found versatility and relief.
The sound of sand trickling in an hourglass snapped me back to reality. I increased from the mat, my body humming its thankfulness, my mind cleared of its fog. Thankfulness welling up in my heart, I thanked Sayuri, her eyes showing understanding and satisfaction.
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 could match. It became my escape, my journey towards self-discovery, and a testament to the healing power of touch. An unforgettable experience!
Keep in mind - We all seek solace, and sometimes 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 actually recommended a distinct massage parlour nestled amidst the historical centre; a facility renowned for its art, as much as its indulgence.
I welcome you to open your mind to check out the sensual realm of massage parlours and permit yourself the extravagance of a life time. On the suggestion of a well-meaning good friend, and overcoming my doubt, I found myself in front of the modest wood façade of the distinguished "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the dynamic heart of the city.
I was caught off guard when she started using her feet and elbows too, extending my body with the accuracy so characteristic of Thai massages. Accidental as it was-- my foray into that Thai massage parlor left me a changed individual -an introduction to an alternative dimension of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism might match.