A night of pampering...

Ok folks: I'm not being biased, but I think I may have the greatest boyfriend ever (Dina, hold your lunch). Last weekend he told me to keep Thursday free because he was planning a surprise for me. As much as I begged, he wouldn’t tell me what it was, just that I should bring my bathing suit. Now, I’m thinking we’re going to the neighborhood pool—he just got a membership to the Paris pools and has been all excited that he can go swimming once a week—and I just thought, ‘Ok, that’s cool, haven’t been swimming in a while’.

So Thurs rolls around and he sends me a text message: ‘Meet me at Miromesnil station at 19h’. We meet outside of the station then get back on the subway and head to the south of Paris, the end of the line. We walk into this dark building, lit only by candles snaking up a set of stairs (I still have no clue at this point), open a big heavy ornate door and step into… a hammam! He had planned a whole night of pampering and relaxation!

Walking into Les Cent Ciels (Bathhouse & Hammam) felt like I’d been transported to Turkey: It’s very dark, lit only by soft candlelight, and the entire place is accented with intricately beaded, colorful furniture and draperies. All the staff is dressed like Arabic attendants, wearing djellaba-like outfits and turbans. The receptionist gave us a key to our lockers, a plush white robe and towel and flip flops and told us to get changed and meet her back in the lobby. So I come out completely naked underneath my robe and when B sees me, he started laughing and said, “You’re supposed to put your bathing suit on. What do you think I told you to bring it for?” lol, obviously I was still very confused. I had never been to a hammam before and had no idea what to do or what to expect. So the lady shows us around—the restaurant, the repose and sun rooms (outfitted with lots of plush loungers and skylights), the pool, the sauna and the hot, warm and cold hammams.

We spend the next two hours alternating between all of the rooms—10 minutes in the sauna, a dip in the pool, laying out in the hammams and back again. At 9:15pm, a lady came in and called my name. I looked at B confused and he said, “I scheduled a massage for you”. Lovely! It had been about 6 months since my last massage and who doesn’t adore them? The room smelled like flowers, and was dark and warm with soft music playing. There were rose petals on the table and the masseuse tells me to take off my bathing suit, put on tiny paper panties and lay down. Just like the gynecologist, in France, there is no shame when it comes to getting a massage—she thought nothing of asking me to flip over (no towel to cover up of course) half naked so she could massage my front and bend my legs into all sorts of crazy positions. But nonetheless, it was 30 minutes of bliss. After a final swim in the pool, we got back into our robes and went to the repose room to stretch out with a cup of tea. Then we went to the restaurant and had a traditional Moroccan dinner and glass of champagne. By midnight, we reluctantly left so we would catch the last train back to Paris. It was an absolutely amazing, luxurious, unforgettable night.

Apparently, this was supposed to be our Valentine’s Day but when he called to make the reservation they told him they’d been booked a month in advance. But this more than makes up for the original V-Day… it was so sweet and thoughtful of him to plan a romantic night like this. What girl doesn’t love a day of pampering? And it was so much fun! Granted, I’m now spending this whole afternoon trying to salvage my hair (which I just blew out and flat ironed a couple days ago) but it was well worth it :o)