Treat or Torture?

My lovely Mum gave Ed and I a voucher for our birthdays last year for a Thai massage. Thursday was the day.

It’s very handy really, a stones throw from my flat, actually next door to our favourite Thai restaurant. We were at that restaurant on Wednesday night, and ended up drinking surprising quantities of white wine (should I be surprised considering my scary capacity for wine?) accompanied by excellent food and company – Ed’s brother Scott and his girlfriend joined us. We ended up at Droothy’s for more wine.

So, waking this morning my mouth tasted like Ghandi’s flip flop and for once was glad of a leisurely start to the day! I know that Ed wasn’t feeling that smart – note to self, don’t let him drink white wine, it has an ‘interesting’ effect.

So, it was Thai massage time. It was our first visit to True Thai We needed to fill in the appropriate health questionnaire before battle commenced. One part was your ‘pain threshold’. Low / Medium / High. OK, so I thought my pain threshold was medium, and given that Ed has two compression wedge fractures in his spine from a car accident and when he threw his Harley off the road at the Ballinluig junction, he chose ‘low’. Right. He specified a nice, relaxing massage. Good on him.

Straight away it was interesting. How can I describe it. I didn’t know that my feet could stretch that far. I didn’t realise that my shins were needing a kneading. The little massage therapist was just lovely, but how can someone so ‘slight’ inflict so much bloody power is beyond me. She used her hands, feet, elbows, legs, fingers to inflict what was verging on pain. You just got to that ‘oh my god, this is just about to be really painful’ when she moved on to other ‘parts’.

At one point, I was lying on my tummy and she was kneeling on the backs of my thighs. Plenty padding there. She used her body weight to stretch muscles that I had forgotten I had. My ham strings have never ever felt this stretched since I played hockey for Scotland. Whilst still on my tummy, she pulled my arms behind my back. She asked me to grab her hands and lean back. Oh ffs… I am just not flexible to do it, but managed. Now my arms are quite sore. My Mum has said to me that I will ‘feel the benefits’ in a couple of days. Really?

In the meantime, Ed was lying beside me enjoying a nice leisurely massage, whilst I was getting a right royal pummeling. Was it enjoyable? Yes, I had a certain amount of pain inflicted on me, and I have to say I did enjoy it. Sort of. Pushed, pulled, prodded, pummeled, poked until I nearly puked. Would I change my ‘pain threshold’ declaration? No. Would I go back for more? Yes. In a perverse pain sort of way.

After that, we found out that my Mum-in-law wasn’t well, so our lunch with her was postponed. Instead of that, we went out for lunch to The Sun Inn. This is a lovely place, south of Edinburgh and a real treat. The staff are young, friendly and efficient. I didn’t let Ed drink white wine. I ordered mussels to start and opted for the ‘big’ portion. Don’t do it unless you know that you are either going to share it, or having it as a main course. It was HUGE! The main course that I had was fish and chips, which in all honesty confirmed that our ‘local’ fish and chip shop have a damned cheek charging what they do for a fish supper to take away. It’s nearly a tenner for the privilege down the village, and didn’t have a patch on the £12 that I paid for marvelous crunchy batter, huge, chunky chips accompanied by home made tartare sauce and mushy peas (not a fan, but I did try them). Hungry now? We topped it all off with a lemon posset to share and a couple of espresso coffees. Nice. So that was the treat after the torture. I have to say, I slept well that night. I wonder why?

What’s really quirky about The Sun Inn is the men’s toilet, is the Oor Wullie loo. Fantastic.

The boys’ toilet