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Published: July 14th 2018
CHINESE MASSAGE...healing the inner Chi. She sidles up and strokes my cheek...from Inner Mongolia...in Beijing to work...reminiscing she had had another Aussie boyfriend sometime before. My mate sidling up and whispering in my ear, "Be careful".
But I whisk him away 'cause I don't object to the attention...her hand gently stroking my cheek.
When he later returns advising there are pictures in the toilets of what they are prepared to do to us...I advise her I am bound to another...departing into the white blizzards of the night...the other girls eyeing us as opportunities taking flight.
Our next stop is a nightclub where one pretty girl for each of the four of us...dice games...if you lose you buy her a drink as well as yourself.
Her way of surviving in the city...her way of making a buck.
When one loses a few throws...which is every throw...a visit to the WC is in order so in I went. Spraying the tiles in the urinal when I feel a tug...look down...not sure if it was shock or horror...a young man is polishing my boots!!!
His way of surviving in the city...his way of making a
buck.
So we tell our host that the nightclub doesn't do it for us either...stepping out again into the freezing night.
******
Our next stop has a guard standing in the snow. They say if you stand still in the snow...the cold is less likely to get to you...but I'm not prepared to try it to see.
Into change rooms where we strip to our birthday suits...our clothes in a locker...a young man for each of us with bathrobe to cover our undress. At least it has pockets to hold the locker key.
Then to a large open room with a few swimming pools...Chinese men of all shapes and sizes wallowing around.
The young men remove our robes and gesture into the water we slip.
Yeeka...this pool is not tepid. It's boiling hot!
My first Chinese bath house...for some a hotel...for some a place to do business.
It gets a tad uncomfortable when the young man insists he assist me dress...well tries to...disposable underpants for modesty...into a line of beds where pretty girls are waiting.
Our skin pink and soft...the girls' fingers probing and strong.
Welcome to Chinese massage...undoubtedly
the reason we were brought along.
Music wafting...the girl ever smiling...muscles writhing...a long line of skin and black haired men...each with a girl...like a production line...massage applying.
"Finished" and she's gone...men stirring...young men assisting with white dressing gowns.
I thought that was it but we go to another floor...robed men on beds watching a film in a cinema...on stretcher beds...young girls feeding us slices of orange and cups of green tea.
But I cannot concentrate on the film...fascinated by the girls...much more enchanting than images on the screen.
Then into a dining room where our host's wife joins us for dinner.
She had been doing the same as us...men and women separate.
Chinese massage...for some a way of life...more than pampering as I was soon to find out.
******
Kunming, Yunnan Provence We are on our way from Kunming to Lijiang on our Shangri-la roadtrip when our host decides we need a massage.
Truly memorable...beautiful eyes...hands gentle and fingers strong...but this one was different.
She swung from a horizontal bar over the bed...walking on my back and chest...chattering to the girl in the next cubicle...Elton
John music...massaging me with her searching toes.
Oh those toes.
Please bring back those Kunming toes.
******
Beijing another trip with my true love We had eaten an Emperor's feast prepared by the chef of the Forbidden City...in a room behind those sacred walls...me in a black & gold Emperor's Dragon suit specially tailored for me in Wangfujing...Denise not wearing hers as it looked like a Mao suit.
Sometimes tailor-made comes out a bit different than expected...for Denise this was such a time.
We walked through the Summer Palace the following day...the route our host used to take as a child at night in the Cultural Revolution...avoiding guard dogs...laughing as adrenaline overcame fear...returning for more mischief with his mates the following night.
But years have passed and our host now uses this backdoor route to conduct business.
Walking until agreement reached...ringing his secretary to type contracts...adjourning for hot bath and massage...a boy on a pushbike delivering the contracts to a massage centre as they emerge renewed in dressing gowns ready for signing.
Our host and his wife take us into the countryside where a metropolis has risen from
farmland...into the bowels of a shopping plaza...past an underground Olympic length pool...through a gilded door...men one side...women the other.
Yep you guessed it...Chinese massage.
Then a banquet meal afterwards...of course in dressing gowns!
******
Pingyao, Shanxi Province Our Qing Dynasty hotel...an 8 foot wide Kang bed heated by pipes from the kitchen...two women enter for Chinese massage...probably the only time Denise and I shared the same bed for remedial encounter.
No massage is ever the same...each therapist having their own style.
She was tall and slender...a bit older than usual...and stronger.
Her fingers dig into my back...plucking my muscles and giving them a twang.
Shaking one arm as if jiggling a rope...then cracking my arm like a stockwhip...nearly pulling my arm off.
My subdued scream saving the other arm from similar treatment.
Chinese massage...always different...many styles.
******
Malacca, Malaysia Chinese massage has a darker side.
Enter a Chinese massage house in downtown Malacca...led by the girl upstairs and down a long corridor to small room.
She had come from a rural village in northern China "to work".
The room
was also her bedroom.
It struck me that if a customer took advantage of her...the room was so far from Reception...would her screams be heard?
Or were there expected additional services as dessert after main course?
Is that what they mean by a "Happy Ending"?
When I went downstairs I had to call out for attendance at Reception...a man with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth eyeing me suspiciously...or was it nonchalantly as he reached for the notes by which I paid?
******
Blind massage in Kaifeng, China I am travelling with my Xiong di (Chinese younger brother) in the city that has been flooded by the Yellow River over 400 times...my body racked with pain after carrying a large stash of booty back to our hotel...into a rickshaw to find appropriate treatment...Chinese massage.
We pass premise after premise til he found a vinyl floor, shower curtain but blue (non-sex) establishment...seedy not greedy for me I guess he thought.
The masseur was blind.
And he did such wonders for only 15 yuan for one hour (about AUD$2.50) that I tipped him generously.
I
thought at the time it was the best massage I had had in my life.
He may have no sight...but his touch showed he had inner sight.
China has to be applauded for training folk with disabilities so they can work and maintain a level of independence.
Blind massage in Vietnam Denise and I had travelled to Vietnam for Mischief on the Mekong with fellow Travelbloggers Cockle (Nick) and the Travel Camel (Shane).
Nick took us for a blind massage...but Shane was coy and wouldn't come.
There I was in my birthday suit on my back...the blind masseur discrete and me in dreamland with his magic touch...
"Click, click, click"...giggle from Nick in the next cubicle.
Eyes open...camera held by fingers from a large wrist...peering down at me.
Boy I miss Nick. We all do.
Bit of a wag...but boy I miss his laugh...and his tricks!
******
Max I met a guy in my home town that was not only a brilliant foot reflexologist and masseur but an exponent of Chinese medicine of some reknown.
He was so popular that people travelled
from distance to receive treatment from him.
He had come 4th in the whole of Guangxi Province in the end of his schooling exams, which is super impressive, so to Beijing School of Chinese Medicine he did go.
He practised as a Doctor of Chinese Medicine in China before emigrating to Australia...where upon arrival his qualifications were regarded as nought.
So he worked in a Reflexology/Massage clinic as he studied at University at night.
I had an issue with my neck and was planning a long trip in Africa...walked into the clinic...and that's how I met Max.
He was so popular that I booked him far ahead for the same time each week.
We had such a rewarding time that we became good friends...talked about his life...travel...his aspirations...swapped music...every week between my travels...for about 18 months.
As a skilful acupuncturist he released a nerve that often would catch on a spur in my neck...generally treated me for this or that...I even helped him with some legal assistance to further his credentials.
And over time he released my inner Chi.
Max has moved on and so have I but we remain in
touch through Facebook.
I will always remember Max...great conversation...and his magic touch.
Through Chinese massage I have met some amazing people.
When I have aches and pains these are my first ports of call.
******
I look forward to that further trip to China with Chinese younger brother...my Xiong di, Robin...for adventures...Chinese music...travelling as Chinese brothers again...further journeys to exotic places as life deems there be...and of course...Chinese massage.
Relax & Enjoy (with a Chinese massage or two),
Dancing Dave
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Keep Smiling
Mike Fossey
Memorable massages
Having never been to China, I've never had a Chinese massage, nor humorous tales to tell about them. In truth, I've never had a massage here in the UK, but the one I had at the hammam in Taybet Zaman, Jordan stands out in my memory as a very hot and soapy one. I don't remember too much about the one at the Szechenyi Spa Baths in Budapest - it was so good I fell asleep half-way through!