BEYOND THE PUMMEL PARLOUR EXPLORE
‘D
o you have a massage for me?’ is probably not the best question to ask when you find yourself outside a backstreet pummel parlour in Cape Town’s wildlands. But throwing caution to the wind, and looking for a good yarn, I plunged in. I should have walked on by. Led into a back room, far from the essential oils and aromatherapy calm one expects of a spa, the bouquet was one of dirty feet, sweaty socks. It turned out to be the best thing about the whole experience. The toupee-wearing therapist – let’s call him Bruce – splashed oregano oil on to my back and told me it was a good liver detox. Then he proceeded to, well, pummel me, accompanied by the trills of the harmonica coming from the flat upstairs and what sounded like a bar brawl outside. It took a week for my bowels to settle. It took about a year before I ventured near a spa again. But venture I did, and this time around it was a far more delicious affair. Walking into the sun-drenched lobby, I was consumed by the aroma of fynbos – surely from the oils and unctions used in the treatments. The serenity was instantly calming. This was going to be good – but it was better than good. Disrobing in my own cubicle, I buried myself in the soft, fluffy gown neatly folded on the chair. And was led to the therapy room. Here the sounds
were of panpipes wafting in through cleverly hidden speakers. Though, to be honest, I could have done with less of the panpipes and more of the silence. The massage was bliss, the therapist expertly rolling my aching muscles under her strong hands. The oil used was a secret blend and the aroma was hard to place. There was a pepper, a mint, and a wild sage to it. At least, that is what it smelled like. Afterwards, in a state of consummate relaxation, I slid down the hall to the recovery room, my legs a liquid shade of comfort. Here, the tasty, healthy, nibbly bits and fizz were designed to be the bridge between the sheer indulgence of a massage and the real world. For a state of calm mindfulness and repose, there is little better than a full-body massage under the expert hands of a properly trained and qualified therapist. Everything should be designed for your pleasure, from the muted colours of the spa and the dimmed lighting, to the thick carpets muffling the sounds of walking. Even the low murmur of other voices dialled down to almost inaudible. This is how a spa experience should play out, a soundtrack to a zen-like peace. If you love someone, send them to a spa.
State of bliss
Leave your stress zone behind with the Lorraine Kearney spa guide kulula.com
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