I walked back to my desk much more relaxed than anytime in recent memory, having just enjoyed an all too brief chair massage courtesy of the company. It has been YEARS since Jim and I have properly indulged in massage. The desire to pay off debt and escape the 9-5 had caused on to cut back on all such indulgences. However, that brief massage did wonders for both my tight shoulders and my spirit and reminded me why we are such fans of the practice….for massage creates a feeling of complete relaxation and well being.

Jim and I both adore massages, and one highpoint of world travel is the exceptionally cheap, and excellent massages, available around the world. A top five reason for our love for SE Asia, in particular, is that we can actually afford to get daily foot massages and bi-weekly full body massages, true heaven.

While we have had hundreds of excellent massages all over the globe, when you participate in any event regularly, you are bound to have a few not-so-great experiences as well. For that reason, I decided to do a top five list of the WORST massages we’ve encountered.

#5 ~ Massage by braille – Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Number five on the list is our attempt to help out some disadvantaged locals after a long and emotional day of touring the sites of the Pol Pot atrocities of Phnom Penh. I guess BAD massage isn’t really the correct verb, but good certainly doesn’t apply either. After being led up some dark, steep steps into a small massage business, the sighted front desk staff gave us some instructions for dis-robing and getting settled in before our blind masseuses entered. They seemed like perfectly lovely ladies, although with no common language I guess they could have been cursing us for disturbing afternoon tea for all I know! Granted, for the mere $3.00 USD we paid for nearly an hour of being blindly groped and sort of massaged didn’t break the bank, but it didn’t endear us to the experience either. The best part of the experience was the knowledge that we had done our bit to help the local economy.

#4 ~ Bruise inducing – Ubud,Bali

Number four on my list of worst massages has to be in Ubud, Bali. After hours of wandering the streets of Ubud, we were feeling hot, tired, and absolutely in need of rejuvenation. Instead I ended up with bruises that took days to fade. The massage started out as most do, with Jim and in bed next to each other with a mostly sheer curtain in between. Now, I absolutely admit to being someone favoring a less than deep-tissue massage, but this was simply painful! Seemingly every two minutes I was trying to convey my pain to my masseuse, to which she would nod and smile and go back to the torturous rub down. How such tiny fingers could so resemble metal rods, I have no idea, but the whole thing was so painful to my lower back that I actually ended the massage before my time was up. Jim accused me of being a massage wimp and I almost started to think he was right and I had just had a sensitive moment until the next morning. As I rose from bed he said “holy crap.. what happened to your back?” Lo and behold, I was not exaggerating and my entire lower back was covered in deep bruises from the pounding I’d endured! Sorry tiny Balinese lady.. but never again!

#3 ~Salt scrub gone wrong – Kuta, Bali

Number three also occurred in Bali, but in the largest city of Kuta. After a touch of home lunch at a truly authentic Mexican restaurant in town, nothing sounded better than a massage before heading back to the hotel pool. Jim smartly decided on a typical Swedish massage, but I was in the mood for a scrub to remove skin beaten up after several months on the road.  Oh, what a mistake. My sweet masseuse smiled and measured out approximately a beach load of scented sand and dumped it, unceremoniously, on my stomach, landing with a thud. What followed was a combination scrub/ bad massage that caused sand to creep into places never before experienced. Nearly everyone has had that, not so pleasant experience, of having too much beach sand get under your swimsuit, but this was unlike anything I’d ever encountered. It felt as though my skin was peeling off with each swipe of the coarse sand across my body and, as expected, the after massage shower did next to nothing to remove it all. It was a painful walk back to the hotel with raw skin and remaining sand. Next time I want a scrub, I’ll just sit on the beach and take care of myself!

#2 ~ Breast beating  – Chiang Mai, Thailand

Thailand has proven to be the location of many of our very best massages, but one stands out in memory as not only being uncomfortable, but also one of the most bizarre experiences we’ve every encountered! Once again, what started as a pretty normal couples massage, quickly turned into something else. We began on our stomachs with a well-done massage on our backs and legs, once we rolled over, however, things went south… literally in Jim’s case. My masseuse, rather oddly, straddled me, sitting on my stomach. I glanced sideways at Jim to convene my confusion over the strange proceedings and noticed a concerned look on his face and noted his masseuse’s upper thigh massage was becoming dangerously close to pornographic! My attention quickly returned to my own masseuse as she started to slap her hands on either side of my chest, smashing my breasts together with each slap. The noise reverberated through the quiet room and Jim was quickly on the verge of laughing at me, in spite of his continuing concern over his own wandering hand masseuse. We ended the massage quickly at that point and headed on our way, still puzzled over what miscommunication caused our most invasive massage to date…. that is.. until we went to India!

#1 ~ Ayurvedic oil – Kerala, India

A day long transportation strike was the catalyst for what was to become the mother of all bad massage experiences. Trapped in a small, backwater town in Kerala, India due to a region wide strike, with an extra day on our hands, and nothing going on in town, we opted for the much encouraged “ayurvedic oil massage” advertised as an option at our hotel. What transpired is something we generally try to avoid discussing in order to not re-live the the ordeal! Here, in an attempt to entertain our dear readers, I will finally tell the story! Led into a small, dark “spa” room, we were each ordered to fully disrobe and dress in what can only be described as a loin cloth designed for a midget. Slightly alarmed, I then noticed that that the massage table was not a padded bench or mat but a slab of wood. As I contemplated the comfort issues ahead, my masseuse had me sit on a small stool and began to pour a gallon of stinky blackish oil over my head and through my hair. As it dripped into my eyes, stinging like crazy, she motioned for me to climb onto the table. Slick with oil, I nearly slid right off the other side! What came next can only be described as a test of endurance. A few more gallons of oil were poured over me as the massage began, not deep muscle but long, sweeping strokes, spraying oil throughout the room and causing me to cling to the edges of the wood table with my fingertips and toes to keep from shooting right off the edge. Next door Jim was experiencing the same tension and I could hear him asking for something to wipe the oil out of his eyes when I suddenly started to wonder how on earth they planned on getting all the oil off after the massage ended. It might have been better not to know. My masseuse led me to a small room in the back with a child size stool and a shower head. She proceeded to wash me down thoroughly as I could only sit huddled on my stool, cursing the strike that had brought me to this place. I escaped as quickly as possible, still slimy with oil, and waited outside for Jim. He walked out the door with a look on his face that I can’t quit describe before uttering six words; “I am never doing that again”, right before we both broke into laughter. Two days later, with the oil finally out of my hair, we lounged on our kettuvallam, drifting the backwaters of Kerala, and chalked it up to yet another crazy moment of life on the road.

In spite of these rather memorable massages, our love for them will continue and I eagerly count down the moments until they are once again a common event.