Citrus Spa

The day I went to Citrus Health Spa was blustery, with that kind of misty rain that accumulates on your glasses. It was dark, gray, and downright dismal that day which was why, when I walked into the spa, it was like stepping into a lemon grove of pure warmth and light

I am a girl who loves massages. I’ve experienced many types – from the rough hands of a Korean adjumma who has more knuckles than an octopus has suction cups, to the sensual oil rub downs that are thick with freesia in Bali.  There was only one kind I had never had before, and I considered it my Everest – the hot rock massage.

So, from the vast array on the massage menu at Citrus Health Spa, I zeroed in on the Himalayan hot rock massage, pointing at it with the excitement of a small, petulant child who would never change her mind.  Then, while sipping hot lemongrass infused tea I chose the house oil – an exquisite concoction of lemon and coconut.

Now, I’ve scared more than a few people at my fair share of nude beaches so, when my masseuse held up a massive towel high in the air so all I could see were her legs peeking out, I laughed. But as I went to take down my jeans, I was suddenly grateful she had.  In my haze getting up that morning I had picked the infamous granny panties. I know I shouldn’t have been embarrassed – after all, we’ve all been there, am I right ladies?

In any event I had little to worry about. Together we walked to the long table, the towel on high  screening me throughout. Once in place, face down in the hole and with the towel draped over my back, I was confident my panty faux pas had not registered.

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Soon I heard the click, click, click of rocks clacking together and tensed in anticipation – a good friend of mine had been burned in one of these massages before, and still has the scars to prove it! Holding my breath, I felt the hot press of a rock in the small of my back, and then another. There was a second when the voices in my brain cried out in warning: ‘the rocks are too damned hot!’ but then my masseuse moved them, sliding the hot stones up and down in small circles.

It was … mind blowing. What normally took an hour to achieve – relaxing the stiff muscles in my back – was done in minutes, the heat from the stones radiating into me, turning me into putty for the full sixty minutes. And, if you’ll forgive the pun, no stone was left unturned. My arms, legs, and feet (oh sweet bahamut, my feet) were massaged with rock and hand alike.

I left there feeling half asleep and deeply calm. I was in a daze that clung to me all day, a deep assuagement permeating muscle and bone. I may not have gotten much work done that day, but I got something much better – an astonishing massage for a reasonable price. If you’re in Hoi An, and feeling a little tense, I highly, HIGHLY recommend Citrus Health Spa. The ladies were so kind, the place was clean, and you deserve to treat yourself.  And hey – wear granny panties! They’ll never know.