Picture this.
It's New Years Eve in Bali. A dark night, the warmth of the air thick and soupy. It's eight o'clock and well over 30 degrees.
My therapist is Angel Hartini. Beautiful and gracious, never has a name suited anyone so well. She gives me a delicous tradional pre treatment drink of ginger and honey. I settle back into the cushions of the reception area and instantly relax.
The spa is open to the night air. Like a lot of Balinese buildings it is almost like being outside, no walls, the roof held up only by pillars. Every breath of a breeze is grasped gratefully here and maximised in the design of the buildings. The spa consists of several private villas grouped around a central bubbling pool. Tiny frogs and orange fish flicker in the streams that run beside the walkways. Twinkling candle like lights illuminate the flower strewn path to my private treatment villa. The scent of flowers fills the night air.
My feet are bathed in a fragrant flower filled bowl perfumed with essential oils and gently pumiced and massaged. I'm here for an hour long reflexology treatment. I lie on the couch and Angel expertly pummels and massages my pinkies. Any tension I had left in me after a week in this dreamlike place instantly evaporates. All around me I hear the sound of frogs, it's the rainy season and little frogs are everywhere - some of them the size of flies.
Advertised
I feel more than see the flurry of wings above my face. A little black bat has flown in and hangs upside down squeaking indignantly. "He lives here" Angel explains, laughing. "It is night time now, he wants us to go".
The treatment is over and I sip the cool milk and honey drink that ends every session. I get dressed and follow Angel out to the doors of the spa. Achilles is waiting for me and we wind our way down through the gardens to a nearby restaurant. Fireworks are going off everywhere, the Balinese like to celebrate this night in style.
Seated in the restaurant, beside a burbling pool, drinks in our hands we clink glasses. "Happy New Year".
Bliss.
