An Impromptu Monday Evening

One of the nice things about living in Shanghai is the fact that you can get almost anything done at almost any time of day. After dining at a neighboring Hunan restaurant (spicy and delicious; a great local find), we ventured to a hair salon down the street. Mike needed a quick cut before his business trip. It was about 8:30 p.m. on a Monday night, and the place was packed. 

Don't you love the décor?

Because dinner and a haircut can take a lot out of a person, we decided, on a whim, to get another foot massage -- at about 9:30 p.m. We've actually been trying out different spas with the goal in mind to eventually buy a membership at one of them, allowing for even cheaper massages. It's been a tough research job, but someone has had to take it on, and we gladly obliged. This was our third foot massage and although it was fantastic (I may have fallen asleep for a minute or two), I think we're leaning toward the first spot we had tried. The second massage was more than decent, but freaked me out a bit. The male masseuse working on my feet spent a good portion of the time telling Mike that he could sense that my intestines were blocked (TMI?) and that I needed to eat more fruits and vegetables. Lovely. When he got to my right foot, which, come to find out, is somehow connected to the kidney and the liver, he said he could tell that I had been eating spicy foods and drinking alcohol. What else were the bottom of my feet telling him? I'm not sure I needed them to tell him any more. And hence why we're going with the first spa, where the massage therapists went at our feet without saying a word.    

Have a relaxing weekend

We finally did it -- a foot massage! And it was lovely. And worth every one of those 20 dollars. Of course, we had heard about foot massages before arriving in Shanghai ("they're so cheap, you can get one every day!"); we just hadn't gotten around to it. Last night, on a whim, we went for the big splurge.

After picking our service (a 60-minute foot massage) and choosing a three-star massage therapist (versus five-star, which is slightly more expensive), the hostess took us to a two-person room where we plopped down on big, comfy chairs and turned on our small TV. We were then brought warm tea and watermelon, and waited comfortably for our masseuses. Two young ladies came in with large buckets of piping hot tea water. Following Mike's lead (he had done this before with his parents), I put my feet in the bucket and sat on the ottoman while my masseuse started on my neck and shoulders. It was painfully wonderful. After maybe 15 minutes, we sat back into our chairs and they started on our feet. They began massaging, placing just enough pressure on particular spots of each foot to make me feel like jello. This went on for a solid 35 minutes. Next, they wrapped our legs in warm towels and finished up with five minutes of gentle hammering, using what looked like doctors' reflex hammers. That might have been my favorite part. When it was all over, we slipped on our flip-flops and walked home on what felt like clouds.