Spa Day

For my fortieth birthday Rob gave me a day spa voucher to one of London’s most famous spas. An entire day of pampering from 10am to 6pm. You get a few treatments over the day, lunch and use of the spa’s facilities  – and it’s just for women. It’s possibly my favourite way on the planet to spend a day.

So yesterday was the day I decided to use it.

Now I could tease and bore you with all the amazing things I did and all the beautiful treatments I had, but I want to talk about something else …

People watching.

The people watching I did was sensational. It was prime, a-grade, top-notch viewing.

Picture this. Mostly posh, well-heeled women. Lots of them mothers, mostly in groups, most of whom were drinking wine and all of who were wearing swimming costumes. And there were loads of pregnant women. It was the perfect storm.

First off the mark was a group of three women about my age. They were sitting right next to me drinking champagne and having a bitch about the school their kids went to. One of them was complaining that none of the food the school served was organic and how dreadful that was. The noisy Australian amongst them piped up and launched into how much better schools in Australia are because there are no hot lunches and you have to pack your kids lunch yourself (how she thinks that’s better I have no idea).

After a while she got up to go for a swim and the second she was out of ear shot one of her friends said “tell me again why we invited her, her voice is so irritating”. Which really pissed me off because they were picking at her accent. My accent.

When she got back the same ‘friend’ said “Have you lost weight? You are looking soooo fabulous. You look totally amazing” … And I was so glad I had my face buried in a Marie Claire magazine because I would have openly gagged otherwise.

I really wanted to tap her on the shoulder and tell her that her friends were a pair of bitches but I didn’t, because I’m not brave enough .. and because I got distracted by the Polish woman standing at the side of the pool doing stretches in the nude.

She was one of those exhibitionist types, great body, average head, but full of confidence and clearly delighted at being on show. She stretched her arms so her boobs stuck out and she jiggled her legs like they do at the Olympics before she walked down the steps of the pool and sat on this …

I am not joking. I almost expected Tarzan to come swinging from a vine.

There were also loads of pregnant women there as the spa offer packages for expecting mums. So in the main relaxation room everywhere I turned there were beautiful round tummys.

However unfortunately with those big tummys comes the inevitable conversation about birth and I overheard some of them discussing how devastated they’d be if they had to have a c-section and the whole ‘too posh to push’ crap.

I wanted to stand in the middle of them and say “I had 4 c-sections, get over it, it may happen to you. Pushing a baby out of your patootie doesn’t make you a better parent”. But I didn’t because I’m not brave enough. And after a few years of parenting they’ll work out that the birth is the easy part anyway.

After the morning’s entertainment I had an infrared treatment. I’d tell you what that actually is but I have no idea except it makes you really hot and sweaty and you can see all the veins in your legs through the red light. It’s gross. Anyway I got chatting to this nice lady in there and she told me she was there with her sister because her marriage had broken up and she was stressed.

Afterwards I went down to the jacuzzi and she was in there crying, with her sister, and I couldn’t help but overhear their bickering over how the infrared lady’s husband was now sleeping with one of her sisters friends. Awkward.

Back to the steam room and there were two really large ladies in there chatting about how even though London buses are getting bigger, the seats are getting too small and it’s unfair to expect people like them to share their double seat with normal sized people. I stopped short of pointing out the obvious to them and didn’t say anything, because I’m not brave enough.

After I had lunch next to a lady who sat and picked every single pine nut out of her pine nut and goats cheese salad before she sent it back saying she doesn’t like pine nuts, I got back in the pool. I discussed Botox at great lengths with two Mums from Primrose Hill who had the most wrinkle free faces I’d ever seen and then I went and had my facial.

Which was really nice, except I lost one of my diamond earrings. Which I haven’t told Rob about yet. Because I’m not brave enough.

But he reads my blog, so I guess now he knows.

It was a really cool day. Except the end bit. That sucked.