The weekend was spectacular and I’ve been incommunicado. Manhattan, often a place of excitement and sheer joy, did not disappoint. I saw a movie Friday evening on 86th street (Dallas Buyer’s Club), went to a writer’s group most of Saturday afternoon on 82nd street and had dinner with my son, Scott and his girlfriend, Ashley at Del Frisco’s on 49th street. Sunday, after breakfast, I drove to New Haven, Connecticut on the first leg of my journey.
Monday morning I’m on the road again heading further into Connecticut to meet my childhood friend Beth for an anniversary celebration of our long (very long, older than my kids long) friendship at the Norwich Inn and Spa.
It was an overdue treat. We’d grown up together but adult life, particularly marriage, kids and living in different states, had us seeing one another infrequently. Our plan for the next 48 hours was to eat well, relax, have a facial and a massage and catch up on life. Our meals were three course gourmet delishousness, one bite better than the next. Filet mignon and brussel sprouts, sea bass and root vegetables, We sipped champagne. Desserts were fig and pumpkin gelato, molten chocolate cake with ice cream, tiramisu.
Tuesday morning we awaken and head into the dining room for a breakfast of banana pancakes, cheese and spinach omelettes, whole grain and cranberry rolls, coffee and fresh squeezed juice. After which we head directly to the spa. We are offered robes, slippers and a locker. We change and wait by the pool for our masseuse to call our names. I am walked to the third room on the left and asked to choose the oil combo I want from a sheet of 10 possibilities for my Phyto Swedish Massage. Such names as: Harmony, Peaceful and Rejuvenation vie for my attention. But something pulls me to ask the therapist her opinion.
“Which do you like?” I ask.
“Muscles and Joints.” Now there’s one I wouldn’t have chosen.
“Okay, let’s go with that.”
The woodsy, peppermint smell turns out to be perfect. She works these aromas into my muscles and we are all (she, me, and my muscles) happier for it.
After my massage (all costs; gratuities and taxes are included) I wait in my robe, in the spa’s inner sanctum, with a cup of Chakra 6 herbal tea. I am blissful. In walks Beth, robe and slippers donned, who joins me for a tea break. A small snack later, we are ready for our next treatment, and saunter into the facial area’s waiting queue. “Third room on the left,” Sandra says while pointing forward and slightly left. We are in a different section of the spa, and yet….I am beginning to wonder if third room on the left has some particular meaning. We begin with steam, I am loving the warm creams and gentle fragrances but something feels wrong with the woman’s touch.
“Are you wearing gloves?” I ask, thinking the pads she is using could instead be the culprit.
“Yes. Some of us wear gloves this time of year to prevent colds and cross contamination. Also, after six facials a day, my hands get really dry.”
“I don’t like the feel of the gloves,” I tell her.
“I’ll take them off for the massage portion.” She does and the end result (after a cranial massage that can be described as nothing less than divine, although it did leave my hair looking like an insane person’s) is a healthy, glowing complexion. The best part of the weekend turns out to be an unplanned, unexpected event that I shall describe in detail tomorrow.
As always, thanks for stopping by.