I've had a few days off work this week as Em very kindly invited me to be her plus one at Clarice House Spa in Bury St Edmunds. We arrived there yesterday around midday and decided to hit the pool rightaway. After about 15 minutes of attempting to squeeze myself into my tummy-control swimming cozzie (don't believe a word of what they say, it controls absolutely nothing!) I was hot and flustered and ready to get pool-side. It felt rather strange walking around in public wearing the dressing gown and complimentary slippers. Not that it was an unusual sight, everybody else was wearing the same attire. Would've looked a bit weird popping down to Tesco Express though. Mind you, boxers walk out into large crowds wearing their dressing gowns, so maybe it wouldn't have looked so weird after all.
So we flip-flopped down to the pool and was greeted by friendly staff, dumped our stuff into the locker and enjoyed a nice little swim for a while. Well I say swim, we mostly floated. And chatted. And made fun of men in stupid speedoes. I did swim two lengths though! I felt like my lungs were packing up, but at least I did it. I know this is a terrible thing to say, but one of the good things about going to swimming pools and beaches is that you always see a few people who make you feel grateful for the size of your own body. It could be a hell of a lot worse!
After our dip in the pool and our lounge in the jacuzzi, and all of sixty seconds in the steam room (Em found it a tad hard to breathe, bless'er), we headed to our room to chill for an hour before our treatments. The room was fabulous! I highly recommend this place to anybody thinking of booking a spa break. We watched telly for a bit, got pissed off by a huge June bug and spent about ten minutes trying to kill the big fecker. A cushion eventually took him to his death, just in case you were wondering.
Time came for our treatments and we meandered down to the salon to await our calling. The therapists come out with big clipboards and call your name, you then follow them down a dark corridor and are led into an even darker room. I've never actually been to a brothel before, but I'd imagine that's probably what it'd be like. But with whale music.
I was booked in for a Swedish back and shoulder massage. Just writing that makes my back hurt thinking about it. There were certain parts that hurt - a lot! I think it may be because I was tensing up, but all the same - it hurt! Today I feel like I've been kicked repeatedly between the shoulder blades. I'm sure I'll be fine and sprightly in a few days time though. There were also certain massaging techniques that I liked. A lot. I hesitated a bit over whether or not I should admit this but sod it, I'll just say it: it made me horny. I memorised the move so that I could show Mr Z exactly what to do. *ahem*.
We had some fabulous A La Carte food, although when the starter turned up I was tempted to ask the waitress if she'd eaten some of my food on the way to the table. A La Carte food is very sparse! It was very nice though, even if there was something on my plate which looked like a giant sperm. The mains made up for the (lack of) starter, it was gorgeous, and very rich. Our break included breakfast the next day (another posh A La Carte choice!) and lunch at midday. Both rather lovely. We took a stroll around Bury St Edmunds after we checked out, to do a bit of shopping. Mr Z has a gig on Saturday and I really want to buy something new to wear. He's seen pretty much all my nice stuff already and I want him to look at me from the stage and feel glad he's taking me home instead of anyone else there that night. I have no worry about him having wandering thoughts, but the little insecurities inside of me still want to make sure I look good at all times!
The one thing I can guarantee for sure is that I shall be smiling through the back pain!
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