La Stampa Hotel & Spa, Dublin

Booking a massage appointment for 10am on a Saturday morning seemed like a fantastic idea. What better way to start the weekend than with a full body massage? I love being pampered as much as the next girl but the idea of trekking to a remote out of town destination where post- pamper retail therapy is not an option lacks a certain appeal. Dawson Street’s Mandala Spa at La Stampa Hotel was the perfect alternative. What I hadn’t factored in, however, was my general appearance and demeanour on a Saturday morning. The words bed, half asleep, ever so slightly hungover and lots of lazy apply. Some girls- including the sprightly friend I had booked an appointment with- jump out of bed at the first sign of sunlight, rustle eggs Benedict and some sort of carroty smoothie ad head off to hike up the nearest mountain. I’m usually found mulling over which type of sausage I would like to eat first around about lunchtime. More than a little dazed and in a curiously assembled outfit I found myself outside La Stampa where said sprightly friend awaited, replete in her weekend wear of great jeans, great hair and great Miu Miu sunglasses. Entering the uber-zen interior of Mandala, I was struck by its stark contrast to the bustling, traffic outside I had stumbled in from. We lowered our voices to a polite whisper- which suited the ever so slightly hungover bit of me nicely, thank you. Having been ushered into the lovely changing room, we then encountered the age-old disposable pants dilemma. Do we want to wear them not at all, on their own, or perhaps over our own, reusable knickers? Settling on the latter (obviously not the right thing to do at all, but well, it felt at the time) we were then led to our treatment rooms. I had opted for the full body Balinese massage and was immediately impressed with the surroundings in which to enjoy it. A flat bed formed the centrepiece for the large wood-panelled room, which came complete with a mirror, soft lighting and gentle, no-particular-melody music. My genial therapist Ayu began by washing my feet in a bowl of warm water, oils and rose petals. I found this a bit odd at first, but soon appreciated that it was part of the full ritual that sets the Balinese version apart from your common-or-garden massage. Next lying face-down and semi naked on the bed, I rifled through the usual ‘calm down she’s seen it all before, just relax, nothing to be scared of…’ feelings. Five minutes later, however my only worry was that I might nod off, start snoring and/or dribbling. Very big gold star for that! Ayu seemed to spend an age on each limb, easing out aches and tensions via various rubbing, kneading and wriggling motions. She asked me how much pressure I would prefer, again another gold star. My only gripe was that the room was a bit nippy, but Ayu did ask me about half way through if I would like the temperature turned up. Once my massage had ended, Ayu thanked me for coming and offered me a big fluffy robe, a comfy divan to rest on with fancy magazines to read and some organic tea to sip. My friend joined me for tea in a similarly chilled out state, where we sat whispering about how much better we felt and why we needed to do this more often.

Published: 01 April 2006