Massage

I’ve never really taken to massage. I think it’s down to the fact that my early experience of consisted entirely of my father getting us to massage his legs, which (much though I love my father) I never found that enjoyable.

When I was about 19 or 20 I had my first professional massage I think, a shiatsu treatment whilst on holiday in Bali. That hurt like hell, and didn’t do much to warm me to the practice. My most comic “massage” experience was a session with a native Chinese reflexologist who spoke barely any English (or Malay) in KL. He mostly communicated by poking me very hard in the foot, pointing at my genitals, and saying “this… that!” and occasionally asking if I wanted a Chinese wife. It was significantly bizarre.

Since then, and since acquiring shinsplints 3 or 4 years ago, I’ve only ever had massage for therapeutic purposes and it always hurts like the devil. Latest session completed today after two months of procrastination by the very capable folk at Urban Bliss. I’m in an appropriate amount of pain, relief and doziness now.

I do hate Portobello Road on a saturday, though.