Ah! The Spa!

Day Five.

After the excursions, we decided to have a free day, exploring the incredibly steep hills that nestles the Windjammer Landing trademark white villas, the beach, and the spa.  The excursions were on our dime, averaging about $100 each.  The spa ended up being about twice that.  It didn’t matter, neither one of us had ever had a spa day (I know, I know).  So we went for a couples’ back massage and a pedicure for me.  

Now, Jay knows I’ve never done this, but while we were changing and waiting he kept asking me questions about what to do.  Do we take our underwear off?  How about our socks?  Are they going to touch anything other than my back?  As we waited for a room in our white spa robes, commando and sockless, we saw a couple we’d seen on the Jammer boat tour, the Russian New Yorkers.  Under the man’s robe, it looked like he was sporting boxer briefs.  Either that or really pronounced tan lines which showed through the thin fabric.  Jay got nervous and again asked me what to do.  I just gave him a look.  "I. Don't. Know.  I've. Never. Done. This. Before."  I remember seeing pictures of towel-only covered backsides so I just hoped the masseuses wouldn’t think we were perverts. 

Gale was my masseuse and the taller, older Pamela was assigned to Jay.  We laid side-by-side, heads down, incense/yoga/hippy music playing while we both experienced our first professional back (and thigh and buttocks) rubs.   Exquisite!  As we got dressed and for days after, Jay kept telling me in detail what Pamela did to his back, how strong her hands were; he was effusive.  Uh, yeah, I was right there beside you, getting the same thing.  He still raves about Pamela.  

While getting my pedicure from Gale, Jay sat in the adjoining chair and eventually gave in to my encouragement that he get one too.  He has very rough feet that really needed work.  

I asked Gale what celebrities had stayed there before.  “Whitney Houston.  Kenny Rogers,” she replied. 

“Really?” I asked.  “Kenny Rogers before his plastic surgery when he still looked like Kenny Rogers, or after?”  Gale said it was definitely after and told us the story of how it got her into trouble. 

Mr. Rogers had requested private massages for his guests in his villa.  Gale went there with her co-workers to set up and the singer himself opened the door.  Not recognizing Kenny Rogers (if you haven’t seen the singer post surgery, look him up), Gale asked him his name.  He replied that he was Willie Nelson.  Being equally smart-ass, Gale exclaimed, “He’s here too?”

Refreshed!
 

 Next: Zip and Good-bye