It’s been too long since we had a giveaway, hasn’t it? So let’s remedy that.
The other week I was staying at a house in Martinborough, trying to decompress after my day job was disestablished, and I had a bath. In fact, I’d primarily booked the house because it was advertised as having a double spa bath (and a gas fire), and I was looking for total relaxation. In a bid to be all blissed out, I dumped in a lot of bodywash, and turned the bubbles on. Uh oh! The bubbles ended up going up to the height of the bath, and kept growing even after I turned the bubbles off. I was somewhat hungover and shaky, and the drive over the Rimutakas in the dark had somewhat taken it out of me, and I was a little bit convinced that the bubbles were alive and trying to kill me. I didn’t stay in the tub for much longer after that!
But possibly the most memorable bath I ever had was at a bathhouse in Japan on a school trip. I can’t remember where we were, but I was in seventh grade, and I was on some trip somewhere. We were staying in a small family inn, and one night the teachers decided that we’d go to some posh bathhouse at a large hotel. It was some small amount like 500 yen to get in, and it was so posh. At Japanese bathhouses, you sit on a little stool and scrub yourself clean with a handheld shower before you get in the big tub to soak. This place had a really large big hot tub inside, as well as a freezing cold dipping pool, baths of a couple of other temperatures, and most memorably, a large hot bath outside. It was February-ish, so it was cold outside, but the tub was still surrounded by jasmine blooms, and the smell of them in the hot steamy air will always stay with me. Being very self conscious me and some of the American girls were wrapped in towels, while the Japanese girls were straight in.While it was a segregated bathhouse, the male area was just on the other side of the fence, and naturally, we could hear the 12 year old boys on the other side trying to stare in at us. One day when I build my dreamhouse, there will be an outdoor bath. There won’t be any young boys around it though. Well, not 12 year olds anyway…
So, now the prize. I have a brand new bottle of Eithne Curran Bodywash that I won from Good Magazine, and I think you should have it as I am overwhelmed by bodywashes right now. I’ve tried their shampoo, and it seems really simple and clean and natural, and smells delicious, so I reckon this bodywash will be lovely too. All you have to do to win it is leave a comment telling me about a memorable place you’ve bathed. I’ll draw a winner at random next Wednesday, July 28. Hurray! (PS: don’t forget to email us photos and descriptions of your favourite outfit while you’re at it!)
I’ve had two memorable baths, one was in South Africa and I had run the water and put in LOADS of bubbles so I felt all warm and fuzzy and suddenly I felt something MOVING against my leg, as you can imagine I flipped my lid and jumped out screaming my head off, everybody in the house came running thinking I was being attacked/murdered/having a fit. Got my husband to drain the bath and there was a huge frog in the bath, I have no idea how I missed it while running the water and putting in the bubbles.
My second favourite bath was in the Hilton in Auckland city, there is a phone next to bath with which to order champagne/overpriced food. I did no ordering while bathing but I did enjoy the 6 towels and making a mess of the floor knowing I would not be doing any mopping.
My most memorable bath was for my birthday last year. I got taken to a retreat at Pencarrow Lodge and the view from the bath on top of the hill looked over all of wellington habour, the south coast and right down cook strait to the south island and kaikoura ranges. There was a storm raging outside and i watched the sunset while the ferries were crashing around (i work on the ferry and felt oh so very happy to not be at work). I ran the bath at sunset and it was glorious.
I’ve taken a lot of baths in a lot of different places, but there is only one that actually sticks in my mind. Sticks like mud really. The first part of the bath was in the muddy crater of a volcano (true, really!)in Cartagena, Colombia. After trekking up the side of a very small volcano, we lounged in warm, sticky mud for a half hour or so… once the strange feeling of being suspended in mud wore off it as actually very soothing. Then we trekked very carefully back down the now very slimy, muddy stairs to wash off in a lake. I thought that would be the end of the strangeness, but no, we were joined in the lake by a group of very strong, very determined Colombian women whose job it was to make sure every scrap of mud was scrubbed off. We had to hold on very very tight to our togs – couple of the males in the party were unsuccessful at this much to the enjoyment of the rest of us. I’m not actually convinced it was a bath in the true sense, at least for those of us that managed to keep our togs on, but it certainly was memorable.
I don’t have a bath.
So I need all the help I can get to make showering a more enjoyable experience.
Last bath I had was in an old tin tub outside on a Martinborough farm late at night, complete with cattle lowing, a gentle breeze and my boyfriend soaping up my back.