Back to Burlington (Ontario - NOT Vermont)

The beacon at the end of the pier.

Mention the name "Burlington" to most people, and there's a good chance they'll say, "Vermont?"

Ditto, if you search for it in Google: When you type "Burlington" into the search engine, it will start to auto fill the search with "Burlington, Vermont."

Now I'm sure the New England state's Burlington is very nice. I hear it's great for winter sports. But there's another Burlington in southern Ontario that's just as nice - or maybe even nicer.

I recently had a chance to return to this small but thriving community of 170,00 that lies on the shores of Lake Ontario, between Toronto and Hamilton.

I say "return" because many, many years ago, I used to visit there regularly with my parents. Of course, a six-year-old's memories are not always detailed and accurate. But I do remember some very specific things, very well.

We went to Burlington to visit my dad's best and oldest friend, Bill Hughes and his wife, Ethel. They were such close friends, that up until I hit puberty, I referred to them as "uncle" and "aunt."

I remember they lived in an apartment duplex of some sort that involved having to go up stairs. I think it might have been some type of semi-detached abode with the different dwellings being up and downstairs rather than side-by-side.

The thing I do remember quite distinctly, though, is an encounter I had with Pixie, the Hughes' calico cat.

I'm an animal lover, always have been. In my last blogpost, I wrote about my first encounter with a pet bird named Joey; Pixie the cat was the second pet I encountered. I liked her - but she didn't like me, at least not then. I had dumped some potato chip crumbs on the living room rug and was trying to feed her the chips, when she reached out and scratched me on the hand, drawing blood. After that, I avoided her until I was 14 - when she decided I was okay, and jumped up on my chest and promptly went to sleep, purring.

Anyway, that's about all I remember about my time in Burlington. I don't recall doing anything there but visiting and getting scratched by a cat (although I did not get cat-scratch fever).



Entrance to the RBG Lilac Walk.

There may not have been that much to do in Burlington in the early 1960s, anyway, it was probably seen by many as just a suburb or bedroom community of Hamilton.

THAT'S certainly changed, as I found out on a recent two-day trip to the area.

I discovered there is much to offer visitors and residents alike - and I didn't get scratched by a cat, this time (although I did see an adorable baby raccoon and a Blanding's turtle at the Nature Interpretive Centre of the Royal Botanical Gardens.)

Take for example, the RBG I just mentioned. It's HUGE. So huge in fact, they run shuttles between the various areas to give visitors the best opportunity to experience everything the gardens have to offer: the Tea House/Centennial Rose Garden, the reflecting pools, Laking Garden (with its iris collection), the Marshwalk Trail (a must for bird lovers), and the Lilac Collection, to name but a few.

If you like your nature a little wilder, Crawford Lake Conservation Area may be a place where you'll want to spend some time. A 468-hectare park, it includes 19 kilometres of trails, one of which connects with the Rattlesnake Point Conservation Area, as well as the Bruce and Nassageaweya Trails.

 

Approaching Crawford Lake.

The lake is a meromictic lake, with the bottom half of the lake a virtual "dead zone" of water that never circulates with the layer above.



One of the many carvings at Crawford Lake.

Crawford Lake is encircled by a boardwalk, making it easy to traverse the one-kilometre circumference.

Another unique aspect of the trails in this conservation area can be seen in the shape of wildlife sculptures that sit along the trails at various spots. You'll see fish, birds, a wolf, a turtle, a butterfly, and many other critters.

Burlington has access to a much bigger lake, of course. There are many ways to enjoy the Great Lake known as Ontario. You can stroll along the 137-metre pier to the beacon at the end and climb up for a better view.

If you like something a bit more active, Burlington Beach Rentals provides several options for outdoor enthusiasts, including yoga on the beach, kayaking, stand-up paddling, paddleboats - and for those needing to recover from playing, beach massage from one of its RMTs.

Or you can just rent a Muskoka beach chair, stake out a spot on the sand, kick back and chill.



One of the Iroquoian longhouses.

There's lots there for history buffs, too. Crawford Lake not only conserves nature, it also conserves culture.

On site sits an Iroquoian Village, reconstructed and representative of the life of a 15th-century native village that existed by the lake before European explorers showed up.

Several longhouses contain artifacts and displays inside them, depicting life as it was 600 years ago.

The Joseph Brant Museum and Ireland House at Oakridge Farm also present different aspects of the area's history, giving you a glance back at the past.

For a more kid-friendly "farm" experience, Springridge Farm offers a petting zoo, wagon rides, mechanical puppet shows - and some features for adults as well: a general store and a bakery full of good eats (try the salted honey tarts - a Springridge specialty).

 

The kids love the mechanical chicken puppets at Springridge Farm.

All that is certainly different from what I experienced as a child during visits to Burlington. And although I did see a rather intimidating tom turkey wandering around Springridge, I didn't see any scary-looking calico cats there...

Things NOT experienced while travelling - and not sure I want to...

The only dolphin swim I'd consider:
snorkeling around  wild ones in the ocean.

It seems everybody has a "bucket list" of travel destinations or experiences these days.

Well, this is my "reverse" bucket list. It's a list of all the things I have NOT done while travelling - and I'm actually quite happy to keep it that way.

Whether for reasons of hygiene, fear, safety, ethics, or concern for the environment, these are experiences I'd not include on a bucket list of things to do, nor would I probably ever add them.

1. Fish foot massage in Thailand. I had the opportunity to experience this, had I really wanted to, when I visited Thailand. But the thought of sticking my feet into waters where countless others had done so, in order to have fish nibble at my feet, chewing any dead skin off, really does not appeal to me. I'll stick to reflexology, Thai, or aromatherapy massages, thank you.

2. Bungee jumping. Had the chance to do this on the bridge that spans the Zambezi River gorge between Zambia and Zimbabwe. I decided to take my chances whitewater rafting (I did almost drown, but that's another story). I hate heights. Terrified of them. Plus, with my history of lower back injuries and issues, bungee jumping anywhere would just not be safe.

3. Dolphin swims. I should clarify this. I have done snorkeling with dolphins - wild spinner dolphins in the Pacific Ocean, off the coast of the Big Island of Hawaii. No contact is allowed, and respect is the watchword. This experience is similar to watching gorillas in central Africa. What I will not do is the dolphin swims sponsored by hotels in places like Mexico, Hawaii, etc. These dolphins are captive dolphins, kept safe from human infectious diseases through the use of anti-biotics. You get in a pool and can touch them, play with them, etc. Not for me, thanks.

4. Climbing. Anything. Again, I don't like heights. I don't intend to take up rock-climbing anytime soon. Or ice-climbing. I won't even consider a trip up Mount Kilimanjaro, which does not involve any technical climbing skills. However, it does require a fitness level that is probably beyond my reach at this point in my life. Besides, there are other experiences I'd rather in Africa that involve paddling as opposed to "ped-ling."

5. Zip Lining. See Numbers 2 and 4, above. Don't like heights. Back issues. Safety concerns. 'Nuff said. I have done the TreeTrek in Whistler offered by ZipTrek Ecotours. That was enough of a stretch for me, given my acrophobia.

Treetrek, yes; ziptrek, no thanks.

6. Whitewater kayaking. Whoa - I bet that brought you up, fast. You're probably thinking, "What the hey...?" After all, this blog post is partially about paddling, right?  But while I've done plenty of whitewater rafting (as a guide once said, "all thrill, no skill"), plenty of kayak touring, and lots of canoeing, I have ZERO experience with whitewater kayaking. Complicating the issue is the fact I've had shoulder issues the past several years; although I can paddle flatwater, some moving water and on the ocean, the strong, quick moves necessary to survive Class IV whitewater rapids in a kayak are beyond me. Still love watching it, though.

7. Parasailing. If you'd read the list above, you probably have no trouble figuring this one out.

8. Sky diving. Do I really need to explain?

9. Eating stuff that's TOO weird. I have eaten some weird stuff. But even I draw the line at what I consider to be really gross stuff like balut, sheep's brains, raw seal blubber - and any kind of botanicals (see, ayahuasca) that are going to mess with my brain's synapses. Anything weirder than the stuff described in a previous blog post, I'll leave for Andrew Zimmern.

10. Downhill skiing. Bad knees. Bad back. No experience at all in this activity. Probably not something I want to try to add to my list of travel experiences at this point in my life. I'll go cross-country skiing or hang back at the apres-ski in the hot tub, thank you.

Riding down Thailand's Chao Phraya River on a rice barge: 

one of the items scratched off my travel bucket list.

Now, even though I won't be doing anything list above, I'm still left with lots of things on my to-do bucket list.

So - what's on your anti-bucket list?

The mother of all upgrades

Often when I tell people outside of the travel industry that I am a travel writer, they almost scoff as they invariably get around to coming out and saying, in one way or another, "Oh, you get paid to go on vacation!"

Of course, any full-time, professional working travel writer worth his or her salt knows it's not all cold Mai-Tais on the beach or five-course dinners served on board a yacht.

That's not to say the job doesn't have its perks, mind you ...



Fountain in front of the hotel.

 If you're not a travel writer (or maybe, even if you are!) you might want to get up and walk away from the computer before reading this post any further...you could end up being a tad envious (and rightly so, this time!) or even developing a serious case of jealously by the time you finished read about this particular experience.

So I'm in Malaysia, at the end of a 16-day media trip hosted by Tourism Malaysia. We start our day by waking up at 5 a.m. in the jungle in Sabah, at the tip of the northeast corner of the island of Borneo. We spend the morning on a wildlife river cruise, then boat back downriver from our jungle lodge, the Kinabatangan Riverside Lodge to visit some more tourist sites in the city. We then fly out, through two connections, to Kuala Lumpur. We're boarding a plane at noon the next day to fly back from the Malaysian capital to Vancouver, via Taipei.
 In other words, it's a typical travel writer's day on the road: very long - with lots of ground covered, and lots of travel miles piled up.

We arrive at our hotel for the night, the gorgeous and glorious Shangri-La Putrajaya Hotel, 30 minutes outside of the capital city of Kuala Lumpur. It's 9 p.m., so we've been on the go for 16 hours. We're tired, grubby, hungry and definitely in need of a drink.


Welcome to my humble abode.


Our city guide, Aliza, makes sure we get the registration process started, then, since she's local, she bids us good night and heads home, telling us she'll be back at 11:30 the next morning to make sure we get to the airport on time.

So I get up to the desk a few minutes later, give them my name and the man starts looking at his computer screen for the information about my room.

Then he says, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Geary, but the room we had hoped to make available to you is no longer available."

Pause.

My heart jumps a beat. My guide is gone. I've just been told I don't have a room. For half-a-second, I'm feeling, "Whoa, what the heck am I to do?"

I don't know if he was doing it for dramatic effect, but before I've recovered from that mini-shock, before I have a chance to catch my breath, before I have a chance to say anything, he continues.

"However, we can provide you with an upgrade to the Presidential Suite, if that would be acceptable."

Double whoa!

Except this time, my heart went pit-a-pat with a happy beat rather than an alarmed one.

Keeping my cool as best I could, I simply replied in my best "quiet-and-reserved" tone, "Yes, that would be fine, thank you."

Let's get clean - one more time!

Meanwhile, inside, I'm doing a happy dance. "Yes-yes-yes!" (Picture the dance Wesley Snipes - a.k.a., Willie Mays Hayes - does in Major League when he finds out he's made the club - that's how excited I was!)


The Presidential Suite. It deserves to be capitalized.

I'd never stayed in anything that even sounded so luxurious, so palatial.

Well, it was all that ...

And more.

There must be something about even being a resident of that suite that bestows special status upon you. The bellhop carrying my bags up showed me in, and was very nervous as he toured me around the room, showing me where everything was. Then someone else came in with a bowl of fresh fruit as gift, and he was nervous, too. Hey, for all they knew, if I was staying in the Presidential Suite, maybe I was president of something ...

The tour was quick, but I found myself wandering around again, afterward, trying to find my way around. The room was bigger than my house! No exaggeration: My house in Vancouver is 1500 square feet; this suite was 2255 square feet.

The master bedroom was as big as my living room/dining room at home, complete with king size bed, office, big screen TV on the wall and a large sofa with a coffee table.

The suite also came with another bedroom with two queen-size beds each with their own TV, as well. All the bedrooms featured en suite bathrooms. There was also a common bathroom accessible from the hallway.

Between the three bathrooms, I had three showers and two jacuzzi tubs.

View of the main living room, from the main office desk.

Rounding out the suite was a small but fully equipped kitchen (no beer in the fridge, though, damn it!); a large living room area, complete with a bar; a dining room and an office area separate from the one in the master bedroom.

I thought, "Man, I've died and gone to Hotel Heaven!"

Two minutes after that, I thought, "Holy crap! I organized a last night final-drink-together party in the bar downstairs! But I don't wanna leave...but I gotta show up, it's my party!"

So, down I went. Duty called, after all.

I didn't say anything when my colleagues asked me how my room was, other than, "Oh, it's great!"

After all, I didn't want the "riff-raff" invading my sanctuary, did I? (Snickers, tongue-in-cheek).

After drinks, I went back up to the room and took a bath in one of the suite's bathroom Jacuzzis.

I had a hard time sleeping...I knew I had to leave in about 12 hours and why would I want to waste it, sleeping in this wonderful suite? I wanted to enjoy it!

In the morning, I took a shower in another bathroom (as a travel writer, I'm obligated professionally to test everything out, right?)

I'd booked a massage with the hotel spa the previous night, but, since I really didn't want to leave the suite, I had the masseuse come up for an in-room massage. Because how often can you get a massage in the Presidential Suite - any presidential suite?

So, after a very good breakfast, and another bath (I swear I was the cleanest guy in the hotel by the time I left!), I lounged on the sofa for a while before answering the knock on the door when my massage therapist showed up.

It was a great massage, befitting a setting like this. Very elegant room, very elegantly dressed masseuse, and a very relaxing, elegant massage (I blogged about this a few months ago). All-in-all, a great way to finish off my stay at the hotel. Well, after just one more shower, that is. Have to wash off those excess massage oils!

All too soon, it was time to call for help with my bags. As much as I was looking forward to getting home after 16 days on the road, I really could have stayed one more night here...

As I walked down to meet our group in the lobby, I reflected on what a contrast I'd experienced in 12 short hours during my final full day in Malaysia: starting my day in a very Spartan cabin at a jungle lodge to finishing it in the most luxurious accommodation I'd ever stayed in.

I glanced back one final time at the door to the suite.

What a room. To quote Bogart from The Maltese Falcon, it was "the stuff that dreams are made of."

A different kind of spa experience at Scandinave

There are spas where you can get massages and other body work, and there are massages where you can get facials, pedicures, manicures and other kinds of esthetics done. That's the modern concept of most day spas.

However, spas originally started in Europe and they didn't involve those kinds of treatments, at least not in the beginning. Look it up on an online dictionary or encyclopedia, and you may find the term spa is associated with water treatment which is also known as balneotherapy.



Everybody into the spa!

 At Scandinave Spa in Whistler, B.C., you can enjoy the best of both spa worlds: you can enjoy a very relaxing massage or other form of bodywork; and, you can also immerse yourself into the world of balneotherapy, or hydrotherapy. While those two processes are slightly different, they do overlap.

There is an added benefit to enjoying the spa there: you're surrounded by the beauty of the Coastal Mountains.

I had the opportunity to visit there recently, in February 2011.

Those unfamiliar with B.C. weather may not realize that at that time of year, it's often very mild here. So the fact that many of the various hydrotherapy "stations" are located outdoors should not deter you from visiting there at any time of the year. In fact, I found it more invigorating in late winter than I might have during the heat of summer. But, to each his own.

I started off with a Eucalyptus steam bath for 15 minutes, then went outside, plunged into a cold pool for 15 seconds, then hopped out and made a beeline to one of the Adirondack chairs placed around an open outdoor fire.


After some time outdoors, you might want
to have a snack or drink inside the spa by the fireplace.


Again, even though it was February, and I was dressed only in a bathing suit, flip-flops and a towel, I was not uncomfortable.

I repeated that hot-cold-warm process several times, using different parts of the facility: jacuzzi-cold shower-solarium; Finnish sauna-cold pool-solarium; steam room-cold pool-solarium.

After a few hours of that, I was certainly very relaxed. While I didn't have time for a massage that day, the next time I go there, I will make sure I take advantage of that option as well. And there will be a next time...

My latest off-the-wall massage experience: jungle spa

Trust Thailand to provide me with Number 10A in my list of odd, interesting, unique and amusing massage experiences, as related in my first posts on this blog.

No, it wasn't a "happy ending" massage; and it didn't involve paint masks, reiki, gum-chewing waitress types or even a pregnant massage therapist asking me to "feel (her) belly."

What made this particular massage creep onto the list was its location, combined with its immediate ambiance.



Welcome to the Jungle (spa)...

It took place at the River Kwai Jungle Rafts, a really interesting jungle lodge accommodation located right on the Kwai River. And I mean literally on the river. The lodge is set on floats, and it sits away from the shore.
I love jungle lodges, and this one was no exception - it was pretty cool, just being able to stay there for a night, drink beer at the "Jungle Bar," watch the Mon tribe from Burma put on a cultural dance display, and listen to the sounds of the jungle on either shore during the night.

They also have a jungle spa there, where you can get Thai massage, foot reflexology, or my personal favorite, an aromatherapy massage.

What made this particular massage experience unique/odd/amusing/interesting (pick one!) was the set-up for the massage.

While Thai massage is done fully clothed, on a mat, usually on the floor, a massage with oil on a table usually requires a bit more privacy, since most, if not all of your clothes, are removed.



Spa menu at River Kwai Jungle Rafts
(32 baht = $1 Cdn)

I walked into the spa after booking my appointment and saw the tables. They were side by side - and there were no walls anywhere. The only thing giving you any privacy are some gauze-like curtains the massage therapist rolls down. But there are gaps, and even without the gaps, people outside the curtains can still see the massage taking place through the curtains. The client can hear people talking in the waiting area.

"Hmmm...mmm..." I'm thinking. "I wonder how this is going to work?"

I should point out, that during any kind of regular therapeutic massage I receive from a Registered Massage Therapist in Vancouver, I'm basically naked, but completely covered with a sheet, other than the area immediately being worked on. That's pretty standard procedure.

Given that, I think you can figure out why I felt a little hesitant about the set-up at this jungle spa.

Then my therapist, a really nice Burmese lady, told me to take off my shirt.

Okay, no problem.


The rather non-private massage tables


Then she told me to take off my pants...so I start taking them off, but I'm a bit hesitant, as I can see and hear people about 20 feet away. She senses my slight discomfort, takes a quick look, and says, "Oh, good, you have underwear on."

Yeah. Good, indeed.

Really, that's the only way to do it, given that kind of set-up. I sure wasn't about to get down to my birthday suit if the room was not completely private.

Once that was settled, I jumped up onto the table, and enjoyed a nice relaxing 60-minute massage. Except for the mosquitoes. Where's that Tiger Balm when I need it? (In Thailand, it seems Tiger Balm is a cure all for everything. Got muscle aches? Slap on the Balm. Mosquito bites? Rub some TB on them. I even had a guide put it on a scalp cut I got when I banged my head in a temple.)

Anyway, the massage itself was great. I left the spa and went immediately to dinner, in ultra-relaxed mode.

Dinner involved three bottles of Singha beer, so I was even more relaxed after eating.

Life in the jungle is definitely good ...

What to do when you don't pedal

In my last blog post, I wrote about "pedal power" in Thailand - the use of bicycle-powered rickshaws to get around the city.

I did a quick trip myself in Chiang Mai. Really enjoyed it.

But while I like cycling when someone else is pedalling, I'm not a huge cyclist myself. In fact, I've cycled once since 2002.

Like I tell people, "I'm a paddler - not a pedaller."

So when flooding in southern Thailand scuttled the planned elephant back ride as well as a canoe trip down a river, trip organizers scrambled to find a new itinerary.

The one they came up with involved mountain biking.

Like I said, I'm a canoehead - not a gearhead. So I opted out of Friday afternoon's biking excursion.

Instead, I went to the Sankhampang Hot Springs to sweat by soaking rather than spoking.

The source of the springs is a pair of geysers, spouting red hot water in a nice park setting. But you don't dare soak in those, as they're hot enough to boil eggs in (which people actually do, I'm told).

You can  sit along a rail and soak your feet in a small stream that leads out of the hot springs basin. Or, you can go sit in a private tub that has "hot" and "hotter" faucets coming directly from the mineral pool.

If you're me, first you stop at the massage facility located in the park and get a Thai massage or foot massage. Then you go soak your bod.

It's hard to say which one is more relaxing and beneficial. It may require additional study on my part over the next several days. But I think I'm up to it.

Besides, I owe my readers - I'm sure they're dying to know ....

My Top 10 Most Odd, Interesting, Unique and Amusing Massage Experiences, Part 1.

Okay, I admit it: I love to be pampered. Must be the extra yin energy I have in me, but I love going to get a nice, relaxing full-body massage. I’ve been enjoying regular massage from Registered Massage Therapists since about 1994. I opt for RMT’s (LMT’s in the U.S.) because:

a) with a few exceptions, their massages are almost always better than those provided by Certified Massage Therapists (CMT’s) or spa therapists.

b) part of the cost of the massage is deductible through extended health care (an important consideration, since they are more expensive than CMT’s or ST’s).

Since I’m a travel writer, I travel a lot, including flying all over the world. Flying creates tense, stressed muscles, so when I arrive at a new destination, I always try to line up a massage the first day I’m there so I’m ready to hit the road in search of stories.



Preparing a massage table for the next client.



Now with any RMT/LMT in North America, you’re guaranteed a fairly standard, professional massage. That may not always be the case when you’re in another country.

For one thing, many countries don’t register/certify massage therapists the way we do in North America. Then there’s always that other kind of “massage” that’s associated with the real McCoy – I’m talking about the “happy-ending/massage-with-extras” you can get anywhere in the world. Because other countries may not offer designations, you do have to be careful you don’t end up with that “other” kind of massage when all you want is to relax your stressed muscles.

I’ve had massages all over North America, in Europe, the Caribbean and Asia. And I’ve had some interesting – sometimes amusing – experiences (and not all of them outside of North America).

Here then, in no particular order, are My Top 10 Most Odd, Interesting, Unique and Amusing Massage Experiences, Part 1.

1. The Coffee Shop Waitress Massage



During a press trip to a spa in New Mexico, all the writers were treated to free 30-minute massages. For a minute, I thought they’d put me in the coffee shop instead of the massage chambers. The therapist working on me was chewing the gum the whole time – and she was cracking it, like one of those stereotypical waitresses you associate with diners, like Mel’s Diner on the old 70’s TV sitcom, Alice. I kept waiting for her to yell out, “Two blue-plate specials, one Bossy in a bowl and three belly-warmers!” That was definitely a sub-optimal experience.

2. The Paint Mask Massage, Part I

This could really be 2a. of Number 2. I went for a massage at a Chinese spa on Kingsway in Burnaby, B.C. once, and while the therapist was not an RMT or even a CMT, it was a legit spa. My therapist was dressed in a hospital-like uniform – and she had a paint mask over her face (maybe she had a cold?) English was not her first language, but it was certainly better than my Chinese. Partway through the massage, while I’m still on my stomach, she climbs up and straddles me, sitting on my bum. I guess she wanted to get better leverage? Meanwhile, she’s trying to convince me to sign up for 10 massages from her, so I get the 11^th one free. “Maybe you teach me English, I teach you Chinese?” she says. Not really a bad massage, but certainly a bit off-the-wall, compared to what I was used in other spas or health centres.

3. Paint Mask Massage, Part II



This could be 2b. During the massage described above, the therapist kept asking if I’d like to buy a small vial of aromatherapy oil for $30! She would then add some to the massage oil she was using and make it a better massage – and I could keep the oil to use at future massages. She offered two or three times. Hey, I’m here to relax, not be pressured into spending more money. Then when I went to pay, they told me the “special” they were offering (one of the reasons I went there) was only applicable if you bought a package. Won’t be going back there anytime soon.



4. The Malaysian Massage, Part I



In Malaysia, you often find, for lack of a better term, “street-massage.” Vendors provide you with foot rubs, shoulder rubs or sometimes even full-body massage right along the sidewalk.  During a stay in Kota Kinabalu, Borneo, I wandered across the street from my hotel and took advantage of an incredible offer: $30 Canadian for a 30-minute foot scrub and reflexology treatment, followed by a 90-minute full body massage. Deal!



The massage was great; the ambience…well, it was outside next to an outdoor café, where people were eating and drinking 30 feet away. Overhead was a gigantic viewing screen showing rock music videos. Since there was no privacy, I stripped down to my walking shorts and lay down on a big couch-like contraption.

It was a great massage, the woman giving it was very skilled and very tiny – at one point, she crawled up onto my back and used her knees to massage my gluts and hamstrings, to make sure she got plenty of pressure on them.

When I flipped over onto my back, two other therapists who were not busy were sitting on the massage couch next to us, chatting away, asking me how I was enjoying my massage!

After I was finished, I felt like a bowl of jelly. Great massage, but certainly different...

5. The Malaysian Massage, Part II



My last night in Malaysia was spent at the Putrajaya Shangri-la Hotel. When I got there, I was told the room they had booked for me was not available – so would I mind an upgrade to the Presidential Suite? Of course not, I said agreeably.

It turned out to be bigger than my house. We got in at about 9 p.m. after flying for several hours from the far east end of Borneo. We were leaving at noon the next day for a 20-hour flight across the Pacific back to Vancouver. Time for a massage!

But I didn’t want to leave this gorgeous room, I only had a few hours to enjoy it. I called down to the spa, and they said, no problem, we’ll send a therapist up.



The very attractive massage therapist arrived at 10 the next morning; I expected her to have one of those portable massage tables.

Nope.

She said, “Strip down, put a towel around your waist, and lay down on the bed.”

Hmmm…mmm… I didn’t really want that kind of massage… but I did as I was told, as in the interest of good foreign relations, I’m always very agreeable while visiting another country.

After I was comfortable, she climbed up onto the bed, on her knees and gave me ….

…. one of the most relaxing massages I’ve ever had. At one point, I think I fell asleep.

Great massage.

Five down, five to go. I’ll tell you about my other five massage experiences in my next blog post.