BeautyHack columnist Ekaterina Istomina went to the AromaSoul scrubbing at Elm Tree Spa and shared her impressions.
This text is about the most real physical tenderness. Tenderness of tactile, tactful, languid and physical tenderness. Such tenderness is "given" (if you are lucky and you are finally going there) in the huge, cyclopean residential complex "Scarlet Sails" - or, to be more specific, in a local significant spa complex called Elm Tree. There I was greeted as if I were a beautiful countess on the clear waters of Baden-Baden. And, having met me truly sincerely and joyfully - not because “it was necessary” for someone to meet me, but simply they were really happy with me. And I somehow immediately realized that it would be possible to really relax here: so as not to owe anyone and anything, that you can sleep on the massage table, quietly chat, as always, “about nothing” with the masseuse (or simply - shut up, finally, my God, for your pleasure). In a word,I found myself in true spiritual comfort, true warmth, and this very one - in the realm of true tenderness.
The extensive snow-white Elm Tree massage table had to immediately fall asleep on it and see bright wondrous dreams about the distant and always inviting Palma de Mallorca, but to be honest, I just wanted to be fully armed and not sleep in order to feel the whole local tenderness to the very end.
I was offered a big, big, big massage, and I have to admit it was the best deal that day. The fact is that I have a distant ballet past, and it was from my childhood that I most of all, of all the "exercises" in a variety of spa complexes, I love massages. After all, they are the ones who really train the body. The massage was promised to me "sports and difficult, power", but, on the contrary, it came out unexpectedly extremely easy - like the lightest jump of the most worthy of all weightless sylphs. The miniature masseuse seemed to be whispering some endless sweet tart sonnet, kneading my body, and my body, frozen in daily labors, blindly obeyed all her undertakings and all her suggestions: she and I made up a single massage whole.
The masseuse began with my cervical spine (and, of course, it is traditionally bad for me, like any journalist who works a lot and ardently on a computer). The little masseuse for a long time and even somehow boringly mercilessly crumpled my neck, which - at least, it seemed to me - became much more mobile and softer after a hard series of her very precise and verified movements. Then she moved on to my dorsal thoracic region - I also have it somewhat lame (if it is possible to express myself so metaphorically on the back and chest), especially in the region of the hard-to-reach ninth thoracic vertebra. There she really stayed for a long time, working hard on all the vertebrae indiscriminately: it seemed to me here (and later I realized that I was not mistaken in anything) that it became even easier for me to breathe.
In a word, it suddenly became easy in my soul! Easy and joyful: as if some wildly terrible life load had fallen from me.
Legs? And what about my long legs? They are ballet ones - in fact, this is the only "element" in my plump body, which still bears some ballet-sports characteristics. The dexterous massage girl took up my legs with all her natural considerable physical strength: she crumpled and kneaded them, lifted her shins, "penetrated" into the hard muscles of my calves and thighs. To be honest, at this point I even began to worry a little about her own health. But won't she overstrain for an hour, training on legs that are so firm by nature and ballet education, like my legs? But everything was in order with my masseuse: she, as it seemed to me, was even somewhat glad - to face such a difficult task and even solve it!
Our hands always require, on the one hand, a confident and acupressure massage, and, on the other hand, light, airy, fluffy. After all, you must agree that our hands are a very visible body object. If the “not very good” neck can still be somehow hidden under an expensive cashmere scarf, then there is no way to hide your hands - you don’t wear gloves in the summer. My masseuse from Elm Tree understood this state of affairs very well. And she immediately changed one cream for another for me and began to gently and scrupulously massage my hands. They became softer and softer, small cracks and tiny wrinkles disappeared before my eyes. And, listen to you, I did this hand massage only once! And what will happen if you "take the whole course"?
And, finally, another cream was chosen for my face: here came the sacred moment when I finally fell asleep. And I don't remember anything. And I can't tell you anything concrete. I was gently awakened and carefully led to a large mirror. My face looked at me: beautiful: fresh, joyful and rested. For some reason I was asked: "Well, how did you like it?" Why, why, gentlemen and ladies, all these unnecessary and petty questions? I liked it, yes!
Text: Ekaterina Istomina