With the Algarve Spa Week taking place this month, Patrick Stuart reflects on his experiences at spas around the world and the question of nudity and modesty
As someone who writes almost exclusively about food and wine, it had never occurred to me to write about my experiences at spas. But I love a good massage and am something of a sauna addict, so wherever I travel around the world, either on business or for pleasure, I am more likely to be found in the hotel spa than at the bar.
What prompted me to write this article was a recent visit to Prague, Czech Republic, where lodged at one of the city’s better hotels, I noticed a sign outside the sauna announcing to guests that clothing (specifically swimming trunks/shorts or ladies swimsuits) is prohibited in there. It was quite amusing to watch fellow British guests, prudish as most of us are when it comes to nudity, ignoring the rules. Others, however, from Eastern Europe and Germany on this particular day happily entered the sauna naked, sitting on a towel. This pretty much sums up the matter of modesty in spas; it all depends on where you are from and where you are.
At one end of the scale, we have the United Kingdom, where most mixed-sex saunas and steam rooms have clear instructions that guests should keep their private parts covered. In Germany and most of central and eastern Europe, it is of course the opposite, with any clothing discouraged and often forbidden, whilst here in Portugal and elsewhere in Southern Europe the attitude tends to be quite relaxed.
Moving out of Europe, attitudes vary around the world but, in most of Asia and Africa, spa facilities tend to be separate for men and women, so nudity becomes less of an issue. Personally, I find the concept of taking a sauna wearing swimwear a bit like having a bath with my socks so even where the rules of prudence apply, I prefer to exercise discretion with a carefully placed towel, an approach that seems to be acceptable wherever we find ourselves.
But what about massages and other spa treatments where a therapist is involved? Any good spa, wherever it is in the world, places priority on the comfort of their guests and, for those of us who enjoy massage on a regular basis, the thought of wearing anything at all for a full body massage is quite alien.
Spas invariably have those rather unpleasant disposable panties that are thankfully optional in most places. But on a recent trip to Indonesia, I found myself in a spa where some form of underwear was obligatory. For us men, a loose-fitting pair of boxer shorts in such a situation is far more comfortable than the disposable panties. But, in reality, there is no reason for a trained massage therapist to ever see one’s privates. Part of the body is always covered with a towel or sheet and when we turn over, the therapist always holds the sheet above their own head height, covering us again with the sheet without so much as a glimpse.
There are, however, many situations in spas where we need to leave any shreds of modestly at the door; for example, certain Thalassotherapy treatments can only benefit the whole body when we are totally au naturel.
And talking of water-based treatments, I remember the most embarrassing spa experience of my whole life at a spa in Calcutta some years ago. I was on a business trip and, after a day of meetings and suffering from jetlag, I decided to go for a massage back at the hotel. The treatment at this particular spa included relaxing in a bath full of rose petals after the massage. All had been carried out with utmost discretion, the therapist leaving me in the room alone to enjoy the bath that she had drawn whilst I relaxed on the massage bed. Sounds blissful, no?
All was well until I felt a rumbling followed by a strong stomach cramp, no doubt caused by a combination of the jetlag and a spiced curry business lunch. I stood up in the bath, only to realise that there was no WC in the room and my only chance was to make it to the washrooms by way of the spa reception. And so, butt naked apart from the red and white rose petals clinging to my body, I made a dash for it, exiting the spa suite directly to the reception and the astonished looks from some other guests and the staff. Fortunately, I made it, just in time …
By Patrick Stuart
patrick.stuart@open-media.net
