TRADITIONAL MASSAGE

Next morning I got up early, showered, ate some fried rice with an egg on top and set out for the temples at Angkor Park. Now, at 51, I am in pretty good shape. I run daily, hit the gym 3-4 times a week and am only a few pounds over my desired weight. But, when I had left my home in Seattle it was 48 degrees and here I was, climbing 6 and 7 story temples in the Cambodian jungle at 103 degrees. Those temple stairs are STEEP, man. By 2pm I was toast.

We headed back into town and I asked the driver about Cambodian Massage. He said that he would take a route back to the hotel that went by a very fine Spa. “No boom-boom” he said, “ very good massage only”. After temple climbing all morning “for real” massage is what I was looking for so when the driver pointed out the place I marked it … 6 blocks up and a block off Route #6 from the river. I took a cool shower, had a long drink of ice water then walked up there. Lots of English signs out front but very limited English spoken inside, negotiated $20 for two hours. First off my sandals where removed and my feet were washed by a pair of girls. Next I was led to shower and given a pair of oversized light cotton pajamas to wear. Then I was taken to a room with six mats built 4” off the hardwood floor, no other customers were there at 4pm. My masseuse showed up and removed my pajama top but made no effort to remove the bottoms. My lower half would be exposed only by sliding up the loose pant legs or pulling down the waist band just far enough so as to keep my “R” rating intact. The masseuse applied a scented oil (not perfumed, more musky or spice smelling) very heavily to a part or portion of my body, pulled and massaged the heck out of that area and then scraped the remaining oil off with a sort of spatula made of dark wood. I like a firm massage and I got it at this place. I’ve never had better this side of “Azteca” so after two full hours of this I was like rubber. I showered again, got back into my clothes and stumbled back to my hotel for a nice long nap.

On the walk back home I noticed a neon sign on the wall of a house that was set off from Route #6 by a small walled and gated parking lot several blocks closer to the river and on the other side of the street from the one and only gas station that I saw in that town. The sign said, “MASSAGE/KARIOKE”. It was off and the gate was shut at 6pm but I made a mental note that I might want to return to this place after dark and experience another form of Cambodian Massage.