A Footnote

Besides foot massages in BKK, I tried out for the first and last time an expensive aromatherapy massage. Mom claims that all full-body packages requiring you to don disposable undies are a veiled attempt at solicitation, but judging by the face-mask, baggy uniform and professional attitude of the masseur I think she over-generalised.

I won't go into details; suffice to say that I had a blocked nose, and that very little of me was spared. She even palpated the intercostals between my ribs. At the finale, just slightly south of the navel, she delivered with CPR-like urgency a succession of palm-presses to the region of my bladder which ressucitated an embarassing need to pee.

Folks, try this only at home.