What do you do when you are eighty and find an amazing Spa shower like this in your holiday cottage?
Go for it of course. What a change in a lifetime, from the cast iron bath with lion feet and hot water from a coal fire. Must play.
The toy boy, aka my husband, he is only 79, was definitely intrigued. We peered in. What was the TV screen for? Surely too small to watch? We never did solve that one, though the controller seemed to say it was for radio or sensuous mood music. Nor did we ever suss out that circular light at the top. It must have had an on off switch, but we never found it. Although we did find the whole unit master control switch, high on the wall in the adjacent wash room. That did it. A good job too….more of which later.
The kitchen was equally mysterious. Why do you need a ten page manual to cook a sausage? Oh for the days of switches that just say ON/OFF. Eventually we managed a somewhat elegant meal which with a rather good bottle set up the right mood for spa exploring.
You know the idea, slip into something loose, pour something fizzy and light the candles. Except in Skye in July it doesn’t ever get dark. Forget that one, settle for a long romantic sunset glow.
OK, got that far. Now drift, glass in hand , to our new entertainment parlour. Ah. What do I see before me, a step , a big step, a step up, a step over……a deep step down again …..and nothing, nothing at all , except flimsy glass panels to hang on to.
Now we haven’t yet discussed knees. I assure you, that in these blogs you will learn a lot about knees. Things you should know now, at 30, 40, 50, whilst there is time. Dont wait to learn when you are 80+ that no designer of almost anything can imagine what it is like to have” knees“. We will discuss, chairs, cinemas, concert halls, cars and of course toilets later. In the meanwhile I am writing this to warn you. Get them educated, all of the, architects,the designers, the style crowd before you too have knees.
The ever helpful toy boy comes to the rescue. He helps me in, passes me my glass, I help in him. The two padded seats look very inviting. Ah, again. They are low, and with knees, lowering oneself is a serious problem. And no one had thought to provide grab rails. Once again, a hand. Except that I have to put the glass down first. Isn’t that simple? No. You are standing on a slippery surface, the glass ledge is below and requires you to turn. You will recognise that feeling if you think of icy pavements wearing the wrong shoes. It is a sort of ‘Dare I? Gosh, I managed it’ situation.
So ensconced in our luxury we looked for the taps. None. Somewhere on the steel column, up above, there seemed to be a dial. Couldn’t read it of course. Who wears glasses in a shower? But near me I found a push button. Go for it? Yes! Delightful. All those little holes at the back were massaging us with water. Just the right temperature too. We didn’t know it then, but might have guessed, the owner of the cottage was a Hi Tech wizard. The heating and water was all geothermal and controlled to this perfect temperature. (More about showers and temperature in another blog….)
The spa tub filled up and a twist of the knob revealed more magic…underwater lights came on. Not only that, they slowly changed colour, red, blue greens..fairyland with prosecco. Loved it. Found the jacuzzi switch too. Heaven.
More to explore? Yes, that dial. I stayed with my glass whilst he stood up. He doesn’t have serious knees yet. One turn of the dial and an unnoticed hand shower produced a startling jet and came alive. Have you ever noticed how they do that? Squirming everywhere. Panic. Catch it! Turn it off..but the dial was in control. Any turn seemed to produce another jet from somewhere, out of the walls, everywhere. Then the rain shower showed its shower power. I was drowning. Worse still so was my drink. ” Switch it off, Switch it off….help!”.
He kept trying, but reading the dial was hopeless. The symbols were engraved in steel. How did anyone expect you to read a steel engraving in steam, without glasses…
Amazing what you can do if you have to. Managed to push myself up, and grabbing the sliding doors headed out. Pursued of course by angry water jets, but remembering that high wall master switch. OFF.
Calm. Retired to bed and peace. Except we then discovered the mysterious controller at the side of the bed. What happens if we press this one? Miracle. Slowly rising out if the foot of the bed a large flat screen TV. Goodnight.
Maybe something serious next time?