Once upon a time I was a typical university student with a diet of pot noodles, too much partying and little to no awareness of the human body and its precarious balance between good health and bad. At this point in my life I had a year abroad in Spain and France. My stint in France proved a revelation of sorts. It introduced me to the power of the human touch. I stayed in a flat with 4 other girls, one who happened to be a mature student with plenty of knowledge on the benefits of massage. She became a teacher of sorts and helped me to understand how the body responds to a gentle nudge here and there. I still spent far too much time at the Irish bar and too little time recovering, but when a full force cold hit me, a magic head and neck massage from Fadzilah took the headache, the congested feeling in my sinuses and neck tension away. It only took 20 mins or so. Now that was a miraculous moment for me.
Sadly I had to leave France 6 months later and those healing hands. It might have been the impetus for my work now but it definitely opened my eyes to a world of relaxation I never knew existed. Some people switch off with music, some with high adrenalin exercise but many need a sense of total relaxation starting with the body to switch of the mind and let go. I fall into the latter category. My love affair with massage has not been a straightforward one. I'm sure I'm not alone when it comes to the world of massages you would rather forget....I'm not talking romantic ones, purely professional.
I'm going to start with the most memorable massages in my collection, for the wrong reasons I might add! Starting with the French vest man. My family were on holiday near Montpelier when my sister and I decided to book a massage. We chose a beach pretty close by. We booked two massage appointments and set off together. We were walking down this beach heading in the general direction of a couple in normal beach attire, when the girl's skirt was whisked up in the breeze to reveal no bikini or pants. So we were heading towards a massage clinic on a nudist beach. We were feeling a tad over dressed in shorts and t-shirts but that was nothing compared to the apprehension at what we were about to encounter. This tent like massage room on the beach had a man in a grubby looking white vest with greasy hair inside. Obviously he was our therapist as no one else was there. My sister has an amazing habit of finding awkward situations hilariously funny. I panic. The room and table looked clean enough to me i thought as my sister kindly volunteered me to go first. Then I really panicked as there was no way I was going to relax with this French man's greasy hands on my body. Suddenly sister jumped into action and nodded for my best acting skills as she told vest man that I was feeling really sick. I pretended to gag a little unconvincingly and off we ran as fast as we could until we couldn't see another naked body in sight.
The second most memorable massage has to be the oily Indian one. I had been intrigued by Ayurvedic medicine ever since a Patagonian yoga teacher talked about its healing ways. I never learnt an enormous amount about it but I understood the essence of treating the body, mind and spirit as a whole. Ayurveda is the natural healing system of India. Yoga is its spiritual aspect. There are 3 different constitutional types that we fall into: vata, pitta and kapha. Don't worry too much about the terminology but I had been told I was vata -pitta. Knowing this much, I booked myself an Ayurvedic massage at a lovely hotel in Kerala, southern India. I think an Ayurvedic physician looked at my tongue, hands and eyes and decided I needed the five senses massage. I was game! I sat on a stool while my head was slathered in oil and pulled about with some head massage which was heavenly. The massage part. I lay down on a wooden slab or table with low sides all around it. There was no pillow or towel. Oil was literally thrown all over me from my feet right up to my face and I found myself being pushed and pulled with each massage stroke. I kept waiting for the head crash as I slipped off towards the head end of the table. Odd, and really unrelaxing. The vigorous pushing and pulling stopped and I waited as she turned my head and poured something into my ear. I couldn't hear a thing. The next ear received the same treatment. I then had to sniff what can only be described as chilli powder up my nostrils that came back down my throat. By now I was counting off the senses: sound had gone, smell was definitely off the cards so touch, sight and taste. Oh help! I think I have blanked on the eye treatment, it must have been horrific. I swallowed some oily stuff and I guess the vigorous massage was the touch. End of treatment..,huge sigh of relief. Instead of peace , I had to stand in a shower while the massage therapist showed me how to scrub off the oil with a rough sponge and some green exfoliating substance. She started downstairs. I was quick to point out I knew what I had to do thank you very much! Dressed and clean, I exited the shower room to sheepishly run out of the massage room only to discover I needed some curry powder rubbed into my scalp. Why? I spent the flight home smelling very potent and having no friends.
Suffice to say that it has been a mission in recent months to find that elusive holy grail of massage that would relax me, iron out the knots and leave me feeling balanced. I know some brilliant therapists who have been ironing out my knots for years but i was looking for something different.
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