I’m thinking about the film ‘Sliding Doors’ and how one’s life can be lived in duality. The ‘what if I chose that path instead of this one’… if I’d just married the footballer when the opportunity arose (it didn’t but this is my story)… I too could’ve lived a life of handbags, shoes and spa holidays. Instead, I am very much living the life of a normal person who doesn’t get to step from a private jet into a waiting Hummer only to be whisked off to the latest spa-du-jour. So when the opportunity arises, instead of being smugly in-the-know, I’m like a small child at Christmas: too excited to be cool… and hell bent on making the most out of it.
So herewith Part Deux of the Karkloof Spa story.
After being so graciously received by the staff at the lodge, I was pointed in the direction of the spa and handed my keys to the kingdom of leisure. In reality it was only a locker key and, for one that isn’t prone to exaggeration (ha!), in it was a robe I can swear was hand-woven by Aphrodite. The staff at the spa are hand-picked from all over the world for their talents and I noticed a fair number of Thai therapists – globally renowned for their magical sensory powers.
As a first-timer at Karkloof, I was taken on a walk around the spa and shown the spacious treatment rooms (17 in total – two of which are for couples). The rooms, like the villas, have extensive views over the gardens and sweeping vistas of the bush. I particularly loved that the design of the place is so in touch with the surrounding landscape and that because it has been built with natural materials (thatch and living grass roofs), animals graze in blissful ignorance overhead whilst you sip on organic green tea.
Spa views (image: Courtesy of Karkloof Spa)
I had a look into the luxurious Manicure/Pedicure and Rassoul rooms… gasped at the sheer size of the Flotation Pool (guaranteed to send any stressed recipient into orbits of relaxation) and then tried for myself the Kneip Pools (those hot and cold ones), Jacuzzi, Sauna and Steam rooms. At this point, I believe I felt my first twang of smugness.
Floatation Room (image: Courtesy of Karkloof Spa)
Spa pools (image: Courtesy of Karkloof Spa)
Kneip pools (image: Courtesy of Karkloof Spa)
At my allotted time I was fetched to the treatment room by my therapist and given a ceremonial foot cleanse with salt scrub. I had to look incredibly serious even though having my feet kneaded with salt made me want to burst out laughing and run around in circles. So not how a footballer’s wife would behave.
I was then shown to the massage table. I don’t know about you but I mostly approach these beds with caution… knowing that lying face down on some of them there’ll be a bit of tissue sticking into my eyeball or suffocating towelling covering a necessary airway… or worse, a bit of metal digging into my temple. And I dare not move lest I disturb the mood of my spa journey. But I am pleased to say that this one was wonderfully comfortable – and I arose after my hour-long massage feeling delightfully sleepy, relaxed and at peace with the universe.
Massage heaven (image: Courtesy of Karkloof Spa)
These therapists really do know what they are doing. At no point did mine make a sound (in fact I remember filling in a form at reception asking me whether I wanted a chat to which I firmly ticked the ‘no’ option) – and it was as if a lone pair of hands was in the room with me softly but firmly soothing away my every stress and strain. It was so good that I almost burst in to tears when she had finished. To me that’s always the mark of a successful massage.
I was interested to see that the spa uses Pevonia, an internationally acclaimed member of the American Organic association – and wondered why they didn’t go for a more local African product… but they must have their reasons.
I was horrified to have to give back my robe… and changing back into my clothes did bring me back down to earth a little (they should possibly think about transporting you back to your room in a wheelchair). The entire experience was perfect. From reception to the point I was delivered into the darkness for the walk back to my villa where, I believe, I ‘floated lonely as a cloud’ – albeit a happy, pampered one.