Most unusually, it's been some time since I have seen my husband. Well before I got back from more than two weeks in New Zealand and Australia on Wednesday morning, he set off on an eating tour of Japan and Hong Kong, from which he will not return until next Wednesday. He has, however, filed this report of what he has been up to.
Not many men are as honest as this about their visits to massage parlours — JR. It proved most useful as it fits into a jacket pocket, contains a useful map at the back and has strong views on some of this city's impressive modern architecture. Its other charm, the guide continued, is the no-nonsense Korean body scrub that sounded just the remedy for a jet lagged, sleep-deprived body.
Although the address in the guide may be right, Nishi Azabu, it states that it is in the suburb of Minato-ku, whereas it is in fact only a five-minute walk from the very much better known Ropponghi Hills Tower, full of every international brand name under the sun. It is also directly opposite the monolithic Chinese Embassy so the immediate area is always crawling with police.
Once you have taken your shoes off, there is a cashier's desk and then women go off to the left, men to the right. The entry price is 3, yen and then the scrub another 4,, a 40 minute shiatsu massage 5, Past the changing room is the sauna, Turkish bath and hot and cold tubs. These last two take the shape of a ten-sided pool with the very hot to the left and the equally cold to the right useful knowledge if, like me, you are lost without your glasses.
You book your scrub or massage and then spend the time in here until you are called. My body scrub was carried out by a woman who, although she did smile now and again, was in no doubt that she was the boss. Having handed me a pair of shorts through the curtain that separated her domain from the mens' pools, she then directed to me a bed and told me to lie down on my back.
