SPA WORLD

Today's story started with Facebook and a Groupon.   I've never purchased a Groupon.  But one of my FB friends put this one out there.  It was for something called Spa World, in Centreville, Va.  It was a regularly priced $48 experience for $24.   Then for an extra $24 you could add a regularly priced $50 foot massage.  What's not to like?  Spas.   Massages.  Never mind that the Spa World in question is 3 hours from my house.   Without much thought I plunked down my money and downloaded the Groupon App on my phone.  I'm nothing if not techno-savvy!

After the purchase, I checked out the website.  In the future, perhaps I'll do those two things in the reverse order.  But no matter.

On the front of the website was a perfectly heavenly looking, sparkling clean pool with "stations."  Like places for you to stop and have your body squirted in some random sequence at some random body part.  That looked pretty amazing.  I was all in!  

Then I read the fine print.   "Nudity required."

Huh??

Okay. . . about nudity.  I lived a very sheltered life.  I've never been around groups of naked people except for a couple of times when my book club went skinny dipping and discussed the book while hanging on to noodles in a lake.   And as a person who has struggled with weight all my life, if I was ever in a locker room situation, I was the person hiding behind the one dressing booth with a curtain, or the one trying to dress while keeping a towel on.  On the other hand, I have to say that more than once I have fantasized about going to a nude beach or something, and just seeing what it felt like to walk around naked and not care.  

So while my intial reaction to the nudity clause at Spa World was a gulp that could be heard 'round the world, eventually I warmed to the idea.   AS LONG AS I DIDN'T RUN INTO SOMEONE I KNOW!!!!  Or worse yet. . . . a former student!

It seems the nudity is required in the women's pool area.  It's the same for the men's pool area, but that didn't apply to me.  For the communal areas of the spa, you are issued little outfits: mustard yellow shorts and tops that make everyone, male and female, look like inmates.  That seemed doable.  I've never been to jail either.

The final decision was made the moment my oldest son, upon hearing that I had bought this Groupon, said, "MOM!   You CAN'T go there.  People run around naked!!!"  At that point I was sure I wanted to do this.

So several days ago I designed my adventure.  I would drop Rudy at her new doggie day care/boarding place (All Things Pawssible) so that she could acclimate herself for future visits, and I would drive to the Centreville, Virginia area where I would take my friend, Pat, out to lunch for her birthday, then drive the 5 minutes to Spa World for the afternoon, and then check myself into the La Quinta Inn -Manassas, to reflect on my day and maybe write about it.   Sounded like a plan.

I arrived at Spa World at about 2:30.  My admission allowed me to use the faciities for 12 hours!  Seriously, they used to let people come for 24 hours, but people were actually staying that long and it just became weird!  I had no idea how long I was going to stay.  I guess in the back of my mind it was possible I would go into the locker room, see all the naked women, and just turn around and go home.  I really didn't know!  I did know that since this was a Korean spa, that the bulk of people there would be Korean.  It was like a trip abroad without the plane!  For the record, apparently Russians love this place as well.

Well, I have to say the set-up is pretty amazing.  You walk into a large lobby and check in.  They give you a little wrist band with a key to a locker.  In the lobby is a small locker where you leave your shoes.  Once you get back into the locker room, the same key opens a bigger locker for your (gulp) clothes!

So I dive in, metaphorically.  I march up to my locker (dodging all the naked women) and promptly remove all my clothes.  Must. Not. Lose. Courage.   I am grateful for the sparcity of mirrors.  I grab the hand towel, the only towel you are allowed, and march into the pool area.  Wow!!!  A huge pool with the stations, waterfalls, jets, whirlpools, etc.  A hot pool of water with no jets.  A hot pool of water with jets.  A cold pool of water (not in a million years!).  A steam room.  And area partially hidden by a half wall where Korean women in black underwear are giving body scrubs to naked women.  And when I say "body scrubs" I can tell with just a perfunctory glance that the entire body is being scrubbed.  I'm uplifted by the fact that I don't hear any screams coming from that area.  But nothing could have enticed me to pay extra for that!   Then there is a section of low-sitting sinks and short stools.  A couple of naked women seem to be doing their laundry.   I have no idea what that is for.   

I have decided to wear my glasses so I can actually see to get to the various stations available.  And since I have my glasses on, I have no choice, while I'm sitting in the still hot tub, but to look at women's bodies.  So I just do!  And what a variety I see!  I'm suddenly feeling very glad about my recent 10 pound weight loss and the boob job I had when I turned 50.  But that's another story.

However, the steam is fogging up my glasses, so I emerge from the water, strut across the room in all my goddess-like splendor, and go to my locker and take off the glasses.  Returning to the pool room I decide to quit ogling and start trying out everything.  I go from one station to another.  I find another first-timer who is receiving valuable instruction from a Korean woman and I eavesdrop like crazy.   I make it through all the stations of the big pool where every inch of my body has been blasted with water.  Some of the blasting is so powerful that the stations have bars for you to hold on to so that you will not be shot across the pool into someone else's station.  By now I'm feeling totally acclimated to all of this, and as I emerge from the pool, I take my fuzzy eyesight and head towards the previously mentioned area with the short sinks and little stools.  I deduce that this is a place to scrub up your body.  Two large containers of products are available.  I pump the first container, which is not labeled, and a soothing creamy substance comes out, so I proceed to wash my whole body with it.   As I'm rinsing off with the hand-held shower attachment I begin to realize that this stuff is so creamy that it's entirely possible that I just "washed" myself with body lotion.   Hoping no one is watching, I try the other pump.  This substance lathers right up, so I give my body another going over and a good rinse.  Feeling very clean, I rise from the stool and see several other sinks behind me with similar double containers of the same products.  Only these are labeled.  It is then I realize that I have just washed my body with first. .  .hair conditioner, and second. . . shampoo!  These are hair washing stations.  I would be mortified but I'm almost 65 years old so who gives a flying fig anyway!  I hold my head up high and walk out of the area, squeaky clean and conditioned.   I never did determine what the ladies were doing who appeared to be washing their clothes!

I decide it is time to get into my prison garb and venture out into the coed areas prior to my 4:00 appointment for a foot massage.  I enter a large open area with mats on the floor, a snack bar at the end, and many doors around the perimeter.  On the mats people are sleeping (now I get how someone could be here for 12 hours), reading, resting, or buying snacks.  At the far side of the room is a doorway to a child care center and a full Korean restaurant.  And everyone is wearing mustard-colored pajama-like outfits.   The many doorways lead into various hot and cold treatment rooms.  Each one is designed to work on some process of the body.  The rooms are either sauna-hot, or there's the one ice room, the walls of which are literally covered with ice.   It's like a old-fashioned pre-defrosting refrigerator inside.  Many signs warn you to "not touch the ice" which is completely visible, about 5 inches thick on the walls.  It's a good thing they had the signs because the very first thing you want to do is touch the ice!  I'm overcome with the urge to put my tongue on it, but I'm still reeling from the whole hair conditioner debacle, so I resist!

After scoping out all the different "polstice rooms", I find an obscenely comfortable leather chair and settle in with a magazine to await my foot massage.  Since you can go to Spa World for 12 hours per admission, there's plenty of time to chill.   I get a magazine with an article about Julia Roberts commenting on her role in the upcoming film, August Osage County, also starring Meryl Streep.  I'm all about all things film.  So I truly enjoy sitting in my little convict's garb and reading this article.   I report for my foot massage about 20 minutes early.

The foot massage guy is tall, dark and handsome.  He claims he is "resting" between foot massages and asks that I wait until the appointed start time.  No problem.  I settle into another obscenely comfortable leather chair to wait.  When he's ready, I'm sorry he rested.   He proceeds to put me through the most bipolar foot massage in the history of the world.  He starts by tucking me into a blanket all the way up to my neck.  (Ahhhhhhh!).  Then after some preliminary rubbing of both legs, he settles into the main event.  Which is to drive his knuckles into the bottoms of my feet until I scream like a baby (AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!)   When he figures I've had enough, he starts again with the soothing long strokes (ahhhhhhhhhh) followed by more torture (AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!).   Seriously, I couldn't imagine that he was not literally breaking my feet given how he was bending and twisting them into impossible positions! A half hour later he was asking me how much of a tip I wanted to leave.   I wanted to tell him that my tip was that he should not torture his clients!   I must say, though, a day later, there is absolutely no soreness or bruising of my feet.  They must have needed whatever he did.

I found I actually could walk away from that experience, back down the stairs to the poultice room.  I decided to give the red clay balls room a shot.  You go into this sauna-like heated room, and immediately step down into small red clay balls the size of marbles.  Since I sensed a loss of balance almost at once, I settled into these hot clay marbles very close to the door.   They were very comfortable.  My feet felt great as I dug them into the marbles.  There were quite a few people in this room.   I settled in and decided to just lie back and relax.   After about 30 seconds there was the loud roar that sounded like a large dump truck of gravel being emptied out on a driveway.  This, as I discovered, was the sound of people getting back up to a standing position after being prone  in the marbles.  I started to have some anxiety about whether or not I would be able to actually get back up and out of this mess!   Which seriously affected my ability to relax.  Eventually I risked it, and though it was not pretty, I created my own dump-truck-unloading-gravel impression as I worked my way to all fours and then up to my feet.  My favorite room, but very iffy on the entry and exit!

I tried several other rooms (blue agate,  wood and charcoal, back to the ice room) and then went to the snack bar and bought a large cup full of cut up watermelon which really hit the spot.   I expect the cups full of watermelon was a nod to Caucasian clients.  Most of the selections at the snack bar and restaurant are Korean dishes.

By that time I was getting antsy to call it a day, so I made my way back to the locker room, changed back into my clothes, settled my account, and then was allowed to pick up my shoes and leave.

Would I go again?   Maybe.  Maybe not.   But am I glad I did it?   Absolutely.  For someone like me who doesn't really aspire to visiting exotic cultures and places, it was my peek into Korean culture and a new way of doing things.  All in all. . . fabulous!