I had the opportunity to explore the beautiful resort town of Calistoga, California. Calistoga is a quaint little town full of inns, bed and breakfasts, and several treatments promising to relax you, rejuvenate you, and reveal the inner 25 year old. My mom, grandma, sister, and I were able to spoil ourselves with said treatments. This is my tale: 'On the Road to Wellville'.
April and I had our treatment at the same time. The treatment was titled "The Works" and I'll be damned if they didn't mean it. The receptionist showed us to the dressing room where we were instructed to replace our comfy sweats with a short, thin robe. We were then directed toward the mud room. The room was very sultry and filled with naked women. Weird. Upon entering the room, we were stripped of our robes and pushed into a shower. After the shower we were told to step into a large vat of mud. We lowered ourselves into the sludge laughing out of embarrassment and awkwardness.
As we sunk into the unknown goop that smelled amazingly like rotten eggs, the ladies covered us with more mud and asked if we were comfortable. I'm pretty sure I didn't answer because I was trying desperately to relax in a swamp that never seemed to settle. I tried to NOT image lots of little bugs running all over my body. I tried to NOT think of all of the places t
he mud was going (and probably where it shouldn't be going). The ladies placed cucumbers on my eyes (which soon fell off...apparently I have an oddly shaped face) and a soothing mask on my face. Just then, the worst thing imaginable happened. My nose began to itch. With much effort, I freed my right arm from the bog of eternal stench and was able to itch my nose (leaving a very attractive brown mark). Just as I was getting used to the squishiness between my toes, we were informed that our ten minutes were up.
The ladies instructed us to wipe off as much mud as possible and go take another shower. April and I stood and began laughing at each other for looking like a mirror image of Creature from the Black Lagoon. I will spare you the gory detail of the shower. Suffice it to say, I had about two pounds of mud lodged where it was invisible to the naked eye. Beauty.
The next step in "The Works" was the whirlpool. The whirlpool was nothing short of heaven. It felt so nice to be in your own personal jacuzzi. As I was relaxing and sipping my ice water, I noticed a few things about the room. It was set up like a military triage constructed out of a former circus tent. Because they used old fashioned claw foot tubs, they had to sort of make-shift jacuzzi. The lady told me to sit on a plastic board. I noticed that the plastic board had little holes in it and was jimmy-rigged to a vacuum hose. This encouraged bubbles to escape through the holes in the board and push upward to create an imploded fart. I highly recommend it.
A heavenly steamroom followed the bubble board followed by three cups of ice water and the blanket wrap. The ladies instructed us to lay down on a bed(again, completely nude, exposed, on a halved bunk bed). Upon laying down, the ladies wrap you in a blanket...the feeling is somewhat cacoon-ish. The blanket wrap is pretty much a 20 minute nap. Quite delightful.
After the short snooze, I was woken up with news that my massage therapist, we'll call him Bruce, was ready for me. I entered the small room and had the massage of a lifetime! He contorted me into strange positions all the while commenting on how 'bendy' I was. He singled out knots and had this amazing ability to pop them like zits. He was wonderful. Kudos to you, Bruce! You are the best! The fabulous massage lasted for an hour, and that was the end.
Moral of the story: if you are naked long enough, you won't feel bad about yourself when you put on a bikini. Hooray!