The Art of Relaxation

This week I have been dragged kicking and screaming to a health spa for a few days of relaxed healthy living. Well, not quite. I’m exaggerating a bit, but given a free choice my preferred destination would have involved my passport and an interesting European city centre with an abundance of cafés and galleries. My husband however deserves once on a while to get his own way, and since he likes nothing better than the near death experience you get through a deep tissue massage, we find ourselves here in the depths of middle England.

In fairness, I like the idea of three days of reading interspersed with swims and countryside walks so it’s not all doom and gloom. I think my reservations stem mainly from the relentlessly cheerful positive nutritional, health and fitness conditioning. I worry I will be overcome by a rebellious desire to scoff chocolate secretly in my room.

Then there’s the ‘uniform’. Not obligatory by any means, but it’s amazing just how many people enjoy wandering round all day in a towelling robe. On arrival we were greeted by the sight of white-robed residents prowling across the extensive grounds like something out of a John Wyndham novel.

Mobiles and laptops are banned in public. Eeek. You can imagine how I’m coping with that. In any event, it’s not a real issue since Wifi access is in a claustrophobic little cupboard, and network coverage is intermittent, so it’ll be something of a miracle if I meet my Postaday2011 challenge here.

And yet… and yet… The whole place is growing on me in a big way. Lots of lovely little reading corners, a beautiful pool, lovely surroundings and lots of opportunity for creative musings.

I’m really rather enjoying myself already, and I may yet end up in a white towelling robe roaming the grounds.

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