Ayurveda!!!!!!!!!!
As I’m in India, the home of Ayurvedic medicine I figured I should give it a try. Conveniently, there’s a hospital on the same road as the ashram that has an Ayurvedic clinic, so I took a stroll up there and went to see the Doctor. I knew that you could get a massage for a fraction of the price of the ones here, but I wanted more really, I wanted a full diagnosis and to be told if my body type was dosa, pitta or whatever the hell it is!
I’ve been in Pune for over three weeks now and it’s taken me this long to pluck up the courage to check this stuff out. I had an Ayurvedic treatment once before - about 15 years ago - and it practically put me off for life.
I was in Kerala with my partner at the time and the owner of the guest house we were staying was forever trying to make more money from us than he already had. Every day, amongst many other products, he plugged the massages that took place on the roof in his Ayurvedic “clinic”. Eventually, we relented and signed up. My partner went first and he returned in one piece but didn’t give too much away. Then it was my turn…
I walked into what was basically a shed on the roof of the building that had a greasy old mattress on floor. This wild looking creature all hair and eyes, wearing only a loincloth, told me to strip. Being British and wanting to appear worldly I did, but inside my mind was racing ‘was this legit?’ ‘what the fuck was this over-grown Mowgli character gonna do to me?’
I laid on this mattress, my flesh truly was crawling as I wondered how many people had been naked on here before me. A few thousand judging by the stains. It made the Ibis look 5*! I closed my eyes and tried to think of England, but made the fatal mistake of opening them just as he was about to begin. The crazy fucker was holding onto a rope that was dangling from the roof and with his feet dripping in oil began to massage every part of my body with his nasty, gnarled feet!
I have a problem with other people’s feet at the best of times - the only time I knew I was truly in love was when I gave an ex-boyfriend a pedicure - and to see these hoof-life specimens coming towards my face almost made me puke! Again though I was too polite to say anything and just laid there rigid.
He worked his way up and down my body, massaging my titties, belly, arms, legs and even my chuff! He was swinging wildly on the rope now, so wildly his foot slipped and he was wearing me like a frigging shoe! My snatch was hanging off his calloused foot like a worn out Birkenstock! Needless to say I didn’t find it all that relaxing.
So now you can understand the trepidation I felt as I walked into the doctor’s office. First thing I did was check the ceiling, no ropes there thank god. He took my pulse and said ‘you have digestion problems’. Now I am no expert, but I’d guess most Westerners here are having digestion problems!
He asked if I wanted a massage and I said I did, so he wrote out a prescription for the type of massage I needed. He added to that a prescription for some medicine for my ‘digestion problems’ and told me to drink lots of water. The price of the consultation was Rs 50 - less than a quid.
He’s the second person to tell me that in as many days - I had reflexology on Sunday night as was told the same thing - so there must be something in it. I’m up to a minimum of two litres a day now.
Next the pharmacist mixed up a potion that looked like it was straight out of the evil Queen’s laboratory in Sleeping Beauty, and so much of it too! That cost me Rs58. I smelled it when I got home and have to say, I’ve not yet had the cojones to taste it!
The appointment for the massage was made for the next day, so 24 hours later I was back. I paid a grand total of Rs250 - just over £4 for a one hour, full body treatment. A tiny, kind-looking woman collected me once I’d paid, and took me into a room which, if you’d seen it in the UK you’d have run a mile from. It wasn’t the cleanest room shall we say. The ceiling fan was black with dust, grease and dead bugs but it wasn’t on so I guess the chances of them dropping on me were slim. There wasn’t any rope up there either - to my relief - so unless she was gonna hang onto the ceiling fan and spin round there was every chance this would be a hands-on massage, not feet-on.
In the middle of this tiny, dirty room was the most enormous wooden massage table I have ever seen, it glistened with all the years of oil that had soaked into it and I must say it was far more palatable than the mattress in Kerala!
She told me to take all my clothes off, and produced what looked like one of those surgical face masks but bigger, which became my nappy! I got on the table and again closed my eyes - I guess I figure if I can’t see it, it can’t be bad - starting with my left foot she began to pour really hot oil onto my body. Oh man! It was the most wonderful feeling! She worked my entire left side with this oil, giving my poor, knackered knees extra attention.
The most amazing part came when she reached the spot where I’d been getting the stabbing pains on my left side and before she even touched me she asked if it was ‘paining”. I was blown away and told her not so much today but how it was agony yesterday. She rubbed, gently at first, then with more vigour, and whatever was causing this pain must have been rubbed away!
After she’d done the right side she asked me to turn over. Not so easy when you’re literally bathing in oil! I opened my eyes finally at this point and got the shock of my life! Me and the table looked like the frikkin’ Prom scene from Carrie! This oil was red and I was covered! Mentally I cursed myself for wearing a white top to this.
She helped me turn over without slipping right off the table and off into Casualty, and did more magic on my back. The nappy came off and my ass got a right good going over, I was happier than a pig in shit!
When she was done, she wiped enough oil from my feet so that I could stand, and led me into the bathroom. She mixed up some kind of herbal powder with water and began to scrub my back with it, telling me to do the same to the rest of my body. Then she put the shower on and left me to it.
Anywhere else in the world, the surroundings might have been more luxurious, but the treatment would’ve been far less beneficial. My skin was glowing, still a bit red, but glowing. My joints which had been causing me so much pain over the last few weeks were immediately eased, and I felt a calmness that was new too. I handed her a tip and booked in again for next week. Cant wait!
I’ve been in Pune for over three weeks now and it’s taken me this long to pluck up the courage to check this stuff out. I had an Ayurvedic treatment once before - about 15 years ago - and it practically put me off for life.
I was in Kerala with my partner at the time and the owner of the guest house we were staying was forever trying to make more money from us than he already had. Every day, amongst many other products, he plugged the massages that took place on the roof in his Ayurvedic “clinic”. Eventually, we relented and signed up. My partner went first and he returned in one piece but didn’t give too much away. Then it was my turn…
I walked into what was basically a shed on the roof of the building that had a greasy old mattress on floor. This wild looking creature all hair and eyes, wearing only a loincloth, told me to strip. Being British and wanting to appear worldly I did, but inside my mind was racing ‘was this legit?’ ‘what the fuck was this over-grown Mowgli character gonna do to me?’
I laid on this mattress, my flesh truly was crawling as I wondered how many people had been naked on here before me. A few thousand judging by the stains. It made the Ibis look 5*! I closed my eyes and tried to think of England, but made the fatal mistake of opening them just as he was about to begin. The crazy fucker was holding onto a rope that was dangling from the roof and with his feet dripping in oil began to massage every part of my body with his nasty, gnarled feet!
I have a problem with other people’s feet at the best of times - the only time I knew I was truly in love was when I gave an ex-boyfriend a pedicure - and to see these hoof-life specimens coming towards my face almost made me puke! Again though I was too polite to say anything and just laid there rigid.
He worked his way up and down my body, massaging my titties, belly, arms, legs and even my chuff! He was swinging wildly on the rope now, so wildly his foot slipped and he was wearing me like a frigging shoe! My snatch was hanging off his calloused foot like a worn out Birkenstock! Needless to say I didn’t find it all that relaxing.
So now you can understand the trepidation I felt as I walked into the doctor’s office. First thing I did was check the ceiling, no ropes there thank god. He took my pulse and said ‘you have digestion problems’. Now I am no expert, but I’d guess most Westerners here are having digestion problems!
He asked if I wanted a massage and I said I did, so he wrote out a prescription for the type of massage I needed. He added to that a prescription for some medicine for my ‘digestion problems’ and told me to drink lots of water. The price of the consultation was Rs 50 - less than a quid.
He’s the second person to tell me that in as many days - I had reflexology on Sunday night as was told the same thing - so there must be something in it. I’m up to a minimum of two litres a day now.
Next the pharmacist mixed up a potion that looked like it was straight out of the evil Queen’s laboratory in Sleeping Beauty, and so much of it too! That cost me Rs58. I smelled it when I got home and have to say, I’ve not yet had the cojones to taste it!
The appointment for the massage was made for the next day, so 24 hours later I was back. I paid a grand total of Rs250 - just over £4 for a one hour, full body treatment. A tiny, kind-looking woman collected me once I’d paid, and took me into a room which, if you’d seen it in the UK you’d have run a mile from. It wasn’t the cleanest room shall we say. The ceiling fan was black with dust, grease and dead bugs but it wasn’t on so I guess the chances of them dropping on me were slim. There wasn’t any rope up there either - to my relief - so unless she was gonna hang onto the ceiling fan and spin round there was every chance this would be a hands-on massage, not feet-on.
In the middle of this tiny, dirty room was the most enormous wooden massage table I have ever seen, it glistened with all the years of oil that had soaked into it and I must say it was far more palatable than the mattress in Kerala!
She told me to take all my clothes off, and produced what looked like one of those surgical face masks but bigger, which became my nappy! I got on the table and again closed my eyes - I guess I figure if I can’t see it, it can’t be bad - starting with my left foot she began to pour really hot oil onto my body. Oh man! It was the most wonderful feeling! She worked my entire left side with this oil, giving my poor, knackered knees extra attention.
The most amazing part came when she reached the spot where I’d been getting the stabbing pains on my left side and before she even touched me she asked if it was ‘paining”. I was blown away and told her not so much today but how it was agony yesterday. She rubbed, gently at first, then with more vigour, and whatever was causing this pain must have been rubbed away!
After she’d done the right side she asked me to turn over. Not so easy when you’re literally bathing in oil! I opened my eyes finally at this point and got the shock of my life! Me and the table looked like the frikkin’ Prom scene from Carrie! This oil was red and I was covered! Mentally I cursed myself for wearing a white top to this.
She helped me turn over without slipping right off the table and off into Casualty, and did more magic on my back. The nappy came off and my ass got a right good going over, I was happier than a pig in shit!
When she was done, she wiped enough oil from my feet so that I could stand, and led me into the bathroom. She mixed up some kind of herbal powder with water and began to scrub my back with it, telling me to do the same to the rest of my body. Then she put the shower on and left me to it.
Anywhere else in the world, the surroundings might have been more luxurious, but the treatment would’ve been far less beneficial. My skin was glowing, still a bit red, but glowing. My joints which had been causing me so much pain over the last few weeks were immediately eased, and I felt a calmness that was new too. I handed her a tip and booked in again for next week. Cant wait!
Labels: Travel
posted by JoJo Smith at Friday, March 04, 2011
2 Comments:
I want one!
Sounds bliss.
I have a "pampering" few days coming up in April, just after the decorators are scheduled to have finished, bet the massage won't be as good as yours!
Take care of you!
Love Ali
Sounds amazing, and at least your Birkenstock is still in one piece.
*chuckling on in to the evening*...thanks for the mental visual festival of billy goat gruff and his Birkenstock special...that is flocking hysterical Jo...and nice to see you being full gusto and enjoying the story telling.
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