ice ice baby

X treated us to a Holiday spa visit this weekend; we snuck out whilst the teens weren’t looking and did three hours at Spa World. As part of our visit we were booked in for a reflexology massage – better known as 30 minutes of dude attacking your feet and lower legs. Now, I’m not too much of a baby, but that guy was solid; while working on my left foot/leg he had to slap my foot a couple of times to indicate that I needed to relax. Sure, buddy, all over that. By the right foot I was well into the this-and-that of reflexology. No worries about X, she just sat there as if someone were lightly tapping her foot, not attempting to put their thumb and knuckles through the arch in your peds. I have to say that by the time he was done my feet felt damn fine and I was ready to stand around anywhere you’d want to stand around for at least eight hours. Give me some standing.

I did two rounds in the pools: one post-cardio workout, and once after our massages and hot rooms. They conveniently provide an ice sauna room for bears to enjoy in between bouts of clay stones, forest heats, amethyst heat, and various other lizard rooms. Nothing calls a bear quite like a big room of ice. Overall, you can see exactly how much happier the world would be with weekly visits to an overly relaxing spa. We wrapped the day with dueling Bibimbap in the spa restaurant. If you come visit we may drag from a stupor to spa…be warned.