Thai massage

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We booked a one hour foot massage at a place where the practitioners are blind. The establishment was highly recommended - apparently the practitioners have a heightened sense of touch due to their visual impairment. As bev astutely commented, this also meant they couldn't see how skanky our feet were and send us away with a flea in our ears. (It turned out to be more fortuitous still, my therapist didn't get an eyeful of my rather brief briefs when he/she hoiked my skirt up and waved my legs in the air. I did however notice that the sighted proprietor was rather conveniently angled behind the partially drawn curtain. I like to think he was watching something on his iPhone and it was merely a coincidence it was pointed straight at me).



On arrival we were led into a darkened room where various treatments were underway. Lying down on a bed by the window, I quickly relaxed, soothed by the soporific sounds of Chiang Mai rush hour traffic and a Thai game show blaring from the telly next door. Unlike bev I am no expert when it comes to Thai massage technique but I think it was a good un. Over the course of an hour the masseur/euse (couldn't quite determine gender) poked the soles of my feet with a sharp stick, punched my flabby calves, karate chopped my ankles and played a particularly vicious game of "This little piggy went to market".



Following our massage we went to eat (I accidentally ate the dish the Russian girl sitting next to me ordered) and then celebrated our last night before we both start a month of tee totalism. Bev repeatedly lost at arm wrestling to an eight year old child and got onto floor instead of into bed when we got home. Jolly good fun.

Next stop - The Foundation. And what better way to arrive at an addiction recovery centre than with a stinking hangover and smelling like a distillery.

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