[dropcap]M[/dropcap]ost people upon meeting me would say I’m pretty laid back and to an extent I am. I’m a shaka sign away from being horizontal sometimes. However, my dirty little secret is that I am a worry wart, a fact my best friend Ismay can vouch for and has the busted ear drums to prove it. With an impending wedding coming up and a bathroom refurb thrown into the mix, the tension in my body was tightly wound up. My anxiety was hitting the red zone. I needed a break! I needed a time out! So, as a grown up, I spent my time out not on the naughty step but at the rather swish and luxurious Akasha Spa on Regent Street for a little rest and relaxation and a bit of an escape…
The Akasha Spa is part of the Hotel Cafe Royal, so I was quite confident it would be a lovely experience. I arrived in good time for my treatment- I chose to have a Reflexology session to balance out all of my inner everything. The lighting was dimmed, voices were kept to just above a whisper and I thought to myself that even if I just sat there for a little while, I would have felt more refreshed. Instead, I was led away to a waiting room where I helped myself to apple water, walnuts and if I wanted, herbal tea. A therapist then led me threw softly lit corridors and into a candle lit room with a massage table in the center.
I assumed my Reflexology session would be similar to getting a pedicure, that is, sitting in a chair while the pressure points on my feet were tended to. Instead, I was told to get comfortable, remove my clothes and get snuggled under the fluffy towels on the massage table. Flustered, I told her I didn’t have a bikini with me but was reassured my underwear was fine. Thankfully, I had bypassed my biggest, beigest pair of granny pants that morning and was actually (and this never happens) I was actually wearing a matching set that wasn’t full of holes. So far, so wound up even further.
A short moment later, she returned, placed a soft eye mask over my face and set to work on my feet and legs. I made myself focus on my breathing, the white noise melody in the background, and tried to stop thinking of everything that was bothering me. All of the wedding planning headaches- those lists!– the back and forth about honeymoons (now or later? where? an adventurous road trip or a beach holiday?) or the bathroom renovation (it makes this neat freak itch) and all the aggro that it entails.
Slowly my hands unclenched and I let myself daydream about our honeymoon, when all the stress of the Big Day would be dusted and done with and we could jet off and switch off somewhere dreamy. I actually found the reflexology really enjoyable and didn’t mind the discomfort at certain pressure points. Maybe it was the lemongrass and citrus scented oils, but the smell alone made me get into the holiday mood and the most ‘honeymoon’ like destination I conjured up in my head was the beautiful, bright blue, white sandy beaches of the Maldives.
I mean…look at it.
Not a skyscraper or grey gloomy cloud in sight. Just the brightest, most brilliant blue sea.
My body may have been snuggled under a towel blanket in London but my head was here…
…pulling a mental shaka sign with my hand.
My reflexology session over, I had a few minutes to myself to stretch and get dressed. I left that luxurious little spa with my feet walking on clouds and a pit stop at my nearest Waterstones to read up on the Maldives. If I could replicate the hour I had just experienced in this piece of paradise, my goofy post-massage grin would never leave my face. Elegant Resorts you know exactly how to soothe this blogger!