Travel Humor
Rubbed The Wrong Way (Around the World in 80 Massages)
Healing hands in distant lands
His sweat pools down on me like a salty waterfall as he bangs his fists on my back. I feel like a piece of meat being pounded into submission by a 350-pound half-naked man — of which I would estimate 100 pounds is body hair. My high-pitched shrieks of protest are ignored by my assailant, who seems to thrive on my displeasure. In my mind, several rules of the Geneva Convention were being breached.
I am wearing what could best be described as an adult diaper and lying on a marble slab set to the temperature of the hottest day in hell. Surrounding me are several other men, all in various stages of pain, experiencing similar atrocities being inflicted on their bright red bodies — and to make this experience worse, we are all paying for it.
We are down a laneway in a small suburb of Istanbul, undergoing a Turkish massage in a local hammam whose motto could have been "no pain, no gain."
It is yet another unusual experience in my travel massage journey.
Mental vacation
Many people have massages for the physical benefits, but for me, it's a massage for my mind. Beyond relieving anxiety, it’s a way to immerse myself in local…
