Burke-Williams
2/2/07 21:56![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madrobinsOh. My. God.
Spent this morning at the spa using up three of the services on my lavish Christmas gift certificate from the Magnificent Spouse. Let me repeat for the West Coast: Oh. My. God.
To begin with, the spa, which is on the fifth floor of the new Westfield Mall in downtown SF, is immense. There's the reception area, the waiting area (the only co-ed area on the floor) and then the mens' and women's areas, which include changing rooms, showers, a hair-and-makeup room, the hot tub, sauna, steam room and cold room, and spa baths. The therapy rooms (for massage, facials, wraps, etc.) are in another area. And that's only the half of it; the therapists and attendents and aestheticians aren't allowed to move around through the regular areas unless they're with clients; they have a back-stage series of passages which are apparently more labyrinthine than the front. And oh, the appointments! The ankle-length heavy white terry robes and shower sandals! The iced towels and cucumbers for putting on your eyes in the sauna (on the contoured wooden benches). The carafes of citrus-and-cucumber infused ice water!
So first I had a seaweed-and-lavender whirlpool bath, with the cucumber-and-iced-towel thing over the eyes, and a tray of cut fruit to nosh on in the candle-lit near darkness. More ice water.
Then the massage. I think the massage table was heated. The massage itself was fabulous. And while I was being massaged, they warmed my robe. Because you don't want to undo the good of the massage by putting on a cold terry-cloth robe.
Finally, I had an herbal wrap--lying on herb-scented hot pads, wrapped round in mylar, while the lovely aesthetician first gave me a mini facial, then gave me a foot rub.
By the time I left the place I was so loose and relaxed I practically oozed home. It's 12 hours later and I'm still feeling pretty cheery.
This is probably as close to feeling like royalty as I will ever come, and I gotta say there's much to recommend it.
Spent this morning at the spa using up three of the services on my lavish Christmas gift certificate from the Magnificent Spouse. Let me repeat for the West Coast: Oh. My. God.
To begin with, the spa, which is on the fifth floor of the new Westfield Mall in downtown SF, is immense. There's the reception area, the waiting area (the only co-ed area on the floor) and then the mens' and women's areas, which include changing rooms, showers, a hair-and-makeup room, the hot tub, sauna, steam room and cold room, and spa baths. The therapy rooms (for massage, facials, wraps, etc.) are in another area. And that's only the half of it; the therapists and attendents and aestheticians aren't allowed to move around through the regular areas unless they're with clients; they have a back-stage series of passages which are apparently more labyrinthine than the front. And oh, the appointments! The ankle-length heavy white terry robes and shower sandals! The iced towels and cucumbers for putting on your eyes in the sauna (on the contoured wooden benches). The carafes of citrus-and-cucumber infused ice water!
So first I had a seaweed-and-lavender whirlpool bath, with the cucumber-and-iced-towel thing over the eyes, and a tray of cut fruit to nosh on in the candle-lit near darkness. More ice water.
Then the massage. I think the massage table was heated. The massage itself was fabulous. And while I was being massaged, they warmed my robe. Because you don't want to undo the good of the massage by putting on a cold terry-cloth robe.
Finally, I had an herbal wrap--lying on herb-scented hot pads, wrapped round in mylar, while the lovely aesthetician first gave me a mini facial, then gave me a foot rub.
By the time I left the place I was so loose and relaxed I practically oozed home. It's 12 hours later and I'm still feeling pretty cheery.
This is probably as close to feeling like royalty as I will ever come, and I gotta say there's much to recommend it.