European massage -- how do I say this -- observes a different standard of modesty than American massage. Thank goodness I've had a lot of massages and thank goodness for the kindness of Donna Long who'd had one before and clued me in before the experience.
And thank goodness for Norma, the grandmotherly manager of the spa, who hailed from Birmingham, England and spoke English. Otherwise I might have wound up putting my paper panties on my head. Yep, we were each handed packets containing a shower cap and a pair of (Norma's term) paper panties -- more like a strip of gauzy paper on a rubber band!
I carefully arranged myself on the massage table, covering as much of me as possible with the towel I found there. I needn't have bothered. Let's put it this way -- my first panicked thought was "I should have checked to make sure I don't have belly-button lint!"
What the heck, it was a great massage; the masseuse was a professional and, well, I suppose if you've seen one, you've seen them both!
And, in case you wondered, that's me in the Niagara bath -- a jetted tub full of spring water with clay and minerals.
3 comments:
You are a brave, brave gal. :-)
My son is a classical guitar player and is fascinated by Spain and their culture and guitar music and food. I'm like you, and not a big fish eater. Interesting posts! Can't wait to see more.
*sigh* .. looks wonderful! So you are out and about again!
Hmmm, difficult to distinguish between the cap and the panties... Perhaps I was right about that cute little winter "ear warmer" of yours.
P.S. Very envious of the spa and Spain.
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