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Published: October 28th 2008
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Picture Perfect
And it's all done free hand. Ubud is spa central in Bali. I’m not sure why as there are no thermal springs in town that I know of. Perhaps some enterprising Balinese started doing facials on the side and the idea took off. Walking down the main drag there are meticulously groomed girls eagerly pressing brochures into your hands every ten yards as you walk the main drag. Besides facials they offer pedicures, manicures, hair rejuvenation, body scrubs, waxing, massages for every body part from head to toe, acupressure, and on and on and on. Prices range from a few dollars to hundreds in the upscale establishments. You can stay in a spa hotel here if that’s your cup of tea. Always looking for a new way to kill time together, Karen and I made an appointment at the Padma Hastaa Spa for the next day, signing up for their Package Number Three because it was the highest priced and most time consuming product at $27 US.
That morning we went to the Ubud Fitness Center (on Jerogadung Road, a very nice American style operation) and did a major work-out figuring that if we were going to get a massage we might as well need one.
Artist at Work
The little bags contain her 'Paints' The designs are only good for a day. Every morning she starts anew. At 11 AM we showed up at the spa and were greeted by a very happy and relieved looking group of girls. I suspect that they get a lot of no-shows and as I’ve indicated before, business in town is very slow. Karen and I received the exclusive attention of three tiny young ladies who immediately set to shampooing our hair. Mine did not require much time. Hair washed, we were both blessed with long scalp massages. They use some kind of Shiatsu technique that hits nerve centers I did not know even existed. I should have taken notes as I got some very impressive goose bumps from the rubbing. A number of cream rinses were applied and removed before they stuck us under some sort of 1960ish plastic bubble head dome that gurgled and hissed pressing a magic elixir into our hair follicles. While this was going on a pair of ladies set to work on our feet and hands soaking the appendages in baths filled with warm water and flower petals.
A word about flowers here. They are everywhere. Frangipani blossoms rain down like autumn leaves. Bali is blessed with more flowering plants than I have ever
Another Example
Obviously less talented. seen in one place before. Staying in Ubud is like living in an FTD floral bouquet. Being an extremely aesthetic people, the Balinese decorate with flowers at every opportunity. At meals flowers decorate your plate. Forks are provided with flowers stuck on the tines. Hotel maids leave blossoms on your bed. All cocktails arrive at your table with fresh flowers. For decoration they will fill stoneware basins with water and create designs on the surface with carefully placed petals in entrancing colors. Organic painting. Flowers in Bali. They got em’ and they use em’.
Hair done and paws clean we were lead to a private pavilion for a massage. I used to be one of those guys that would never consider a massage even if it were to be administered by a giant bulging biceped crewcutted Swedish male named Sven. Massage is a part of life in SE Asia. Karen couldn’t talk me into one until our second trip and 15 minutes into it I was kicking myself in the rear-end for not having done it earlier. Thai massage is sometimes called Yoga massage. A full Thai massage takes two hours and is one of the most invigorating things
Palm Blossoms
You see these everywhere. The clusters are about a half meter long. I have ever experienced. Really brightens up the day when done correctly. And there’s the rub. Finding somebody who knows how to do it correctly is a task. While Asia is full of massage businesses, most are staffed by people who have had little formal training in the art. When you find a good one you tend to stick with them. There is a man in Pai, Thailand that is so good that I have traveled six hours by bus out of my way just to enjoy his skilled hands. The bottom line is that whenever you get a massage at a new place you really don't know what you're going to get.
In Thailand they ask you to change into a light pair of cotton pajamas before the massage. Here in Bali I was handed a pair of baggy black mesh panties so thin that my religious affiliation was readily apparent. After changing my masseuse came in. A girl so small and sweet you could have used her as a Christmas tree ornament. She asked me to lie face down and went to work. Pound for pound this was the strongest human being I had ever met. After
Room Bunny
This rabbit comes over every morning for a visit. Think's he's a dog. tenderizing my tootsies with her fists of fury she went to work on my calves actually separating the individual muscles with her thumbs and stretching them like Turkish taffy. When she got to my gluteus maximii she pulled the grandma panties down to my ankles (Yeah, I know, why even bother?), got onto the table and set her tiny blender knees to frappe’, liquefying my buttocks. If I had eaten any spicy food that morning I would have launched the little squirt right through the thatched roof into a fixed orbit. At the end of a full hour I was the recipient of the best massage of my life. I lay semi-comatose on the table in a viscous heap.
Massage done she brushed on a Mango juice concoction mixed with an abrasive material. This paste was VIGOROUSLY rubbed over every square inch of my skin. Occasionally she would pause and call to her associate. Standing in the corner, they would stare at areas of my epidermis while whispering and sighing to each other in Balinese like a couple of Oncologists examining a particularly troublesome tumor. After her consult she set back to work until I was as finely sanded
Interlopers
This is the resort next to our hotel. We love to use their pool. As you see, it's not very crowded. as a Chippendale table in black panties. They drizzled yogurt all over me until I resembled a human Bundt cake and then they left me to set.
At this point I admit that I was feeling pretty gay. My head was filled with snippets of Broadway show tunes when I suddenly felt a warm dark presence by my head. I heard the sound of a heavy chair being dragged slowly across the floor and a female voice softly saying, ‘I clean now’. At that moment my morning took a frightening turn. Striking like a cobra she locked my jaw in place with her left hand and began carving away at my countenance with what felt like a Swiss Army knife though I really couldn’t tell what she used as my tears left me blinded. Lips, nose, forehead, cheeks, no parts were spared from this epidermal farmer as she harvested a bountiful crop of blackheads, whiteheads, dead skin and any vestige of manliness I had left. She awled every nook, line and cranny I had and at 55 I got em’ aplenty. An excruciating five minutes later she said “All clean now” and left. I don’t know who she was
Banana Ladies
Banana suppliers at the Monkey Forest. Not for the faint of heart. or what she looked like but I never want to meet her again. From Karen’s cubicle I heard the soft whimpers of a whipped pup.
My face was gooped and stripped three separate times. The aromatic fruit/ yogurt mixture on my body had dried into a stiff patina. And yes they really do put cucumber slices on your eyes. I smelled fruit salad and became very hungry. Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink. The slices were pulled from my eyes and the masseuse told me to enjoy a ‘relaxing bath’. I tiptoed like a glazed Neanderthal to the tiny Balinese sized tub where I found a three-inch thick raft of flower petals floating on the scented waters. I scrubbed as well as I was able to but I sure could have used some help. Same old story. Everybody wants to go to the party but nobody wants to stay and clean. I spent half the next day extracting flower petals from cracks.
That night, exhausted and beautiful, we swept the flowers from our bed and fell into a deep sleep.
Tomorrow we head to the Gili Islands off Lombok's NW coast. No cars there or paved roads. Transport is by foot, bicycle or pony cart. I'm not kidding. Talk at you all later.
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Jim and Ila
non-member comment
Thanks for addressing us for your blog. We look forward to going to the computer to check on your latest. This issue had Ila laughing so hard she cried.