Awkward Spa Moments Abroad

bali spa awkward spa moments

One of my favorite parts of traveling to cheaper countries is the option of spa services at a much lower rate than you’d find in most of the Westernized world. In the United States, you’ll pay at least $50 for a simple one-hour massage. In Indonesia, that same $50 buys you several treatments over the course of 4 or 5 hours.

Having grown up in the United States and indulging in a few massages and spa treatments over the years means I’ve grown accustomed to a certain way of doing things. Most of the spas and massage places I’ve been to in the US are very clinical and sterile. There’s a procedure you follow and every precaution is taken to ensure the client’s comfort and modesty. I knew not to expect the same experience in other countries, but the prudish American in me was still a bit creeped out by what I’ve experienced abroad. (Though, let’s be honest, not creeped out enough that I won’t do it again, because I’m nothing if not cheap when it comes to certain things.)

Awkward Spa Moments in India

I was staying in a decent hotel in India, so when I saw they were offering Ayurvedic massages at, what I considered, a cheap rate, I jumped at the opportunity. My friend and I each booked one at the same time because, after almost two weeks of dusty bumpy roads, our bodies were in dire need of some kinks being worked out. It started out normal enough: we met our therapists in the hotel spa and were each led to our rooms, across from one another.

At home, the therapist would lead you to your room, dim the lights, turn on some soft music, tell you which side should be up first on the table, and then they’d leave the room while you disrobed and crawled under the modesty blanket. At this spa, no. Just, no.

No dimmed lights, no soft music, unless you count the muffled drone of honks from outside to be soothing, and the therapist stood there and actually watched me while I took all my clothes off. Uncomfortably down to just my underwear, I turned, shielding my boobs from her, and asked which way I was supposed to lie down on the table. I was instructed to lie on my stomach and promptly did so, hoping to soon have a sheet, towel, or blanket laid over me. It never happened, but when in Rome? At that point, she finally decided to step out of the room, leaving the door wide open, while she had a conversation with two men just outside the door–meanwhile, my enormous, bare ass is in full view on this table.

bali spa awkward spa moments

When she finally came back in, she began the massage. The first half was fine after we worked out some miscommunication about the level of pressure, but then she wanted me to flip over. Again, in the US, I’ve typically had forms to fill out before treatments where I could write, “I don’t want my stomach or boobs massaged.” Not in India. I got it all massaged. While very anxiously lying there, this woman got all up in there, touching and brushing against all my naughty bits. This didn’t make for the relaxing experience I was hoping the massage would be.

After I dressed and headed out, the first thing my very candid British friend asked me was, “did she touch your vagina?!” We both had a laugh about our massages that started off the way that lesbian massage porns do, and added it to the books of weird things that you do when you travel.

Awkward Spa Moments in Bali

So a lot of this one is probably my own fault. And I find that I get myself into situations like this a lot. For some reason, I decided it was a good idea to invite my ex-boyfriend to Bali with me. That’s a story for another time. I found a gorgeous spa that offered 4-hour spa treatments for around $35 US. It included a massage, soak in a flower bath, and a facial. I looked forward to it for the whole trip to Bali. My ex decided he also wanted to do it, but would only agree to it if we did a couple’s treatment in the same room–he was freaked out by the idea of getting his first massage. I didn’t think much of it. We’d both go into a room and have a massage, then we’d get to take our lovely flower baths, and then have a facial. I wasn’t prepared for the level of awkwardness of it all though.

When we got to the room, the two women handed us each a towel, told us to take a shower, and then put on their gauzy underwear from a tiny box. When they left the room, I finally took in the situation: there was one shower in the corner of the otherwise open room, with no curtain, no door, no.. nothing. So I had to get completely naked in front of my ex (not that he hadn’t seen it, but it’d been a year since he had). Then I had to try to jiggle my sticky still-wet body into tiny gauzy underwear before our naked massages. After the massage with yogurt, turmeric, and rice powder, we were instructed to get off the table and take another shower before the flower baths.

bali spa awkward spa moments

He got up to shower while I stayed lying down–I thought I’d give him some privacy that way. But then the woman shouted at me to get up and in the shower too. And she stayed in the room while we both huddled into the soapless shower to “wash” off this paste they marinated us in. Then, as it turns out, we have to get in the same bathtub together for what’s supposed to be this very relaxing and soothing flower bath. I was still awkwardly trying to hide my body, and cover it with flower petals. One more joint shower and it was finally time to put clothes back on and go for the facial, which happened to be the only relaxing moment of the whole experience for me.

So really, the moral of this story is, don’t do a couple’s spa treatment with your ex in a romantic location like Bali.

bali spa awkward spa moments

I should also probably rename my blog to something like, “Megan’s Awkward Travels.”

Tell me about your weird spa experiences, please. I need to know I’m not alone.

Author: Megan

Megan is an ordinary girl who outgrew her small town and decided to try the world on for size. She's on a mission to travel, photograph, and write about the world.

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  • I’m sorry. I’m laughing, but I’m sorry, I haven’t had any really awkward spa moments. When I went to Bali I only got my feet massaged. Everything else was burned because I hadn’t seen a significant amount of sun for 2-3 years.
    Though I was getting a massage in Scotland, in the town I was living in, Aviemore. The masseuse, a woman I’d served numerous times in the pub I worked at, was working on my legs and hips. When she got to my butt she couldn’t hold back any longer and told me that my ass was freezing (it was winter, and I’d walked to the place) and how was this possible? It was the coldest ass she’d ever touched.
    That’s as bad as I’ve got. Your stories are way better. Cheers!