Hamish Fletcher learns to relax and enjoy the spa experience.
I looked to my partner awkwardly as we prepared to reveal our bare bodies to complete strangers. She could offer me no help whatsoever. The situation was already tense - the drive over had been a navigational nightmare as we dashed across the New South Wales border, desperately hoping to reach our destination on time. Now, locked in a darkened room with nothing more than a bathrobe around me, I was anxious about committing a serious faux-pas.
I should have spoken up earlier, but was worried doing so would reveal my gross inexperience; that I had never before paid for these sort of services and was really quite anxious about the whole affair.
These fears were unfounded - it turned out that, had I insisted, I could keep my underwear on for the entire 50 minutes.
When walking into Kingscliff's Golden Door Spa I was uncertain to how comfortable I'd be with a stranger's hands all over my body. Ten minutes into my Swedish massage ($138 each) any misgiving faded into memory. To a faint soundtrack of birdsong and trickling water, 25 years of stress was forced out of me as I lay in a blissful trance. Backs, necks, shoulders, arms, legs - even fingers and toes - were all kneaded into shape as my partner and I were pulled, prodded and poked by our attentive masseuses.