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WELLNESS<br />
As I sit with Patt, she tells me that she’s been<br />
working in the field since 2002. At one point in her<br />
career she was overseeing nearly 20 spas located in<br />
the Asia Pacific region, including Egypt, Kuwait, Sri<br />
Lanka, Thailand and the Maldives. “It involved travelling<br />
quite a bit,” she laughs. “I don’t think I was in Thailand<br />
for more than five days at a stretch.” She took up the<br />
spa manager’s position at Bodu Hithi towards the end<br />
of last year and is pleased with her work and her team.<br />
“My team are very experienced, very professional,” she<br />
says. “Whether it‘s in a jungle or underwater, a spa is<br />
only as good as its service.”<br />
Back in my residence, as I sip from a bubbly drink,<br />
my mind is listless and my body is encumbered with<br />
the stresses of the capital, where I live. Even last<br />
week’s aches make their presence felt in various<br />
quarters. My body is the low, ponderous bass of the<br />
Monk tune, out of synch with my mind, which flits from<br />
thought to thought like his flourishes on the ivories.<br />
There is a clear disconnect between body and soul. The<br />
serene blue-green vista before me does nothing to still<br />
the mind’s tumult.<br />
When I arrive at the spa at precisely five o’clock I<br />
am directed into Raa, the first treatment room. There<br />
I lie prone on the massage bed, on its soft green silk.<br />
A gong sounds. It has begun. Soon, gentle, but firm<br />
touches begin to work their way up from my feet. I<br />
am an instrument. The exquisite hands belong to a<br />
maestro, working her will upon my body, improvising,<br />
yet grounded by the codes of an age old tradition,<br />
like the improvising jazz pianist to his theme. Now my<br />
thoughts are tied to this delight my body is experiencing.<br />
They are almost inseparable; body, soul.<br />
When I rise from the table and look through the<br />
glass doors, it is almost as if I am seeing the splendour<br />
of the lagoon for the first time. The dying light has<br />
burnt into the surrounds, the poignant goldenness of<br />
a precious memory. Everything seems to be in cosmic<br />
concord, and as I sit, again with a drink, and gaze upon<br />
the deepening hues, I begin to realise body and soul<br />
are one. It is far from midnight, but that final cadence<br />
of the Monk tune tinkles in my mind, and my body<br />
responds, joyously.<br />
www.cococollection.com<br />
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