I love massages. Nothing feels better than relaxing for an hour while someone kneads all the knots and tension out of your body. Simply glorious. I find that Asian massages are the best, because they get right deep into your muscles. It’s slightly uncomfortable but you come out feeling like every bit of tension has melted away, especially in the neck and shoulders. And you feel like a brand new woman!
Although I love Asian massages, it is well-known you have to be careful where you go because some places are notorious for being, let’s say, rather dodgy. Luckily, we had a friend, Miss Mango Bun, who took us to a good place somewhere in Tsim Sha Tsui.
We approached an old run-down looking building and deserted stairwell. Talk about dodgy – this looked seriously dodgy. Being young and mindless, we were curiously excited to check it out. On our way up to the massage place, we saw this sign.
Well this is…rather…comforting. My camera actually fogged up. Literally. Hence the blurry image. In my mind I was thinking “Only in Asia…”
But whaddya know, we went inside and it looked simply classy and cosy. I was so pleasantly surprised I completely forgot to take photos of the interior. Don’t you hate it when that happens? But take my word for it, good massage at a reasonable price in Hong Kong, Zen Spa on Hankow Road is the place to be. Simply glorious.
I decided to be a tour guide the next time and took another friend there, a Miss Custard Bun (Is it terrible I give my friends food names?). She seriously doubted my judgment as we approached – it was written all over her face. But she loved it in the end. We both had full body massages, and it was heavenly. Then the masseurs left us to change back into our clothes.
And the unthinkable happened.
By sheer stupidity, we managed to lock ourselves in the room. And we couldn’t get out! I panicked. This place was dodgy after all! Again, by sheer stupidity, we didn’t know how to unlock the door even though we were on the inside! (in my defense, even if it’s not a good one, it was a complicated door!). The masseurs were shouting instructions to us, we were shouting back asking what they meant. Didn’t do much good, we couldn’t understand Cantonese, and I doubt they could understand my abysmal Mandarin-mixed-with-English. Finally they took the boss’s key to open the door for us. It was such a hoohah. We stepped out into the hall (which had been empty but was now full of customers), looking rather embarassed.
I think I’ll just go back and lock myself in the room again. And this time, I’ll just stay there.