It was 3am when my flight from Doha landed at Cochin, 4am by the time I had worked my way through the immigration and customs formalities to find the driver who had come to meet me and 5am by the time I collapsed on the bed in my room at Mattindia. Not that I was able to sleep, thanks to a mix of exhaustion and the fact that there was no electric point in the room to connect my sleep mask (I suffer from obstructive sleep apnoea.)
I rested for a fitful couple of hours, and then tottered down to find some breakfast - fruit salad of pineapple and water-melon, then rice-flour pancakes with a mild curry of chickpeas, and a glass of freshly made fruit juice.
I then went for my consultation with the (lady)doctor, who seemed to take a rather more gentle approach than I had experienced at Ayurveda Yoga Villa three years ago. I would not be subjected to a punishing initial fast, like my last time. On the contrary, she wanted to start me straight away with massage treatments to get my circulation going and disperse the marks of thrombosis from my legs. After a day and a half travelling, my legs ached. Also, the thrombosis in my calves had been getting quite painful, and my circulation was so poor that the smallest scratch would take weeks to heal.
First I had to sort out my accommodation, and fortunately there was no problem relocating to a room with a power point. I unpacked everything and pushed my empty luggage under the bed. I dug out a 2pin/3 pin adaptor and had just started to organise my stuff into shelves and the small desk cupboard when there was a knock at the door, and I was escorted off to the massage room.
When it comes to décor and furnishings, you get what you pay for in India: if you want 5-star, you pay for 5-star. When it comes to treatments, you probably get the best in a humble setting. My experience in the spa of a luxury hotel in Kerala some years ago,was that the massage was a sanitised version offered to Western tourists looking for a soothing experience. Here at Mattindia, the facilities are very basic, but my first treatment has been truly mind-blowing.
The massage bench in the men's massage room at Mattindia is an 8-ft long,waist-high table, the width of a cupboard door. There is no concession to modesty, and the two young men had me sit sideways on the bench in naked glory, feeling embarrassed and rather ashamed of the voluptuous size of my stomach.
They applied a liberal volume of coconut oil and took up positions on opposite sides of the bench, one working on my shoulders and the other on my chest. Their light touch was electrifying and I could feel a tingle as the stresses and strain started to drain away.
As they continued, the pressure built up, and I could feel some life returning to my lower limbs, but more was to come.
Just when I thought they had finished, they put a thin foam mat on the floor and told me to get down from the bench and lie face down on the floor. Now the real work started, They massaged my calves hard and long, and then started to look for the pressure points.
With all the skill of an interrogator at Guantanamo Bay, they found the exact spot on my thigh,or on the soles of my feet, and started to apply pressure. I cried out and gasped for breath, but they were merciless.
This process continued for what seemed like an eternity,before they finally told me to climb back onto the bench and stretch out.
Now came my reward. They tucked me up with a heavy cotton sheet and poured jug upon jug of hot medicated water over me. The soothing water soaked into the sheet and the sensation on my body was exquisite. I was drifting off peacefully until they coaxed me back to life and escorted me in my dream-like trance, back to my room.
For the second time in 12 hours, I staggered into bed.
I rested for a fitful couple of hours, and then tottered down to find some breakfast - fruit salad of pineapple and water-melon, then rice-flour pancakes with a mild curry of chickpeas, and a glass of freshly made fruit juice.
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| The medical and therapy staff at MattIndia |
First I had to sort out my accommodation, and fortunately there was no problem relocating to a room with a power point. I unpacked everything and pushed my empty luggage under the bed. I dug out a 2pin/3 pin adaptor and had just started to organise my stuff into shelves and the small desk cupboard when there was a knock at the door, and I was escorted off to the massage room.
When it comes to décor and furnishings, you get what you pay for in India: if you want 5-star, you pay for 5-star. When it comes to treatments, you probably get the best in a humble setting. My experience in the spa of a luxury hotel in Kerala some years ago,was that the massage was a sanitised version offered to Western tourists looking for a soothing experience. Here at Mattindia, the facilities are very basic, but my first treatment has been truly mind-blowing.
 |
| Modesty towel added for photo |
The massage bench in the men's massage room at Mattindia is an 8-ft long,waist-high table, the width of a cupboard door. There is no concession to modesty, and the two young men had me sit sideways on the bench in naked glory, feeling embarrassed and rather ashamed of the voluptuous size of my stomach.
They applied a liberal volume of coconut oil and took up positions on opposite sides of the bench, one working on my shoulders and the other on my chest. Their light touch was electrifying and I could feel a tingle as the stresses and strain started to drain away.
As they continued, the pressure built up, and I could feel some life returning to my lower limbs, but more was to come.
Just when I thought they had finished, they put a thin foam mat on the floor and told me to get down from the bench and lie face down on the floor. Now the real work started, They massaged my calves hard and long, and then started to look for the pressure points.
With all the skill of an interrogator at Guantanamo Bay, they found the exact spot on my thigh,or on the soles of my feet, and started to apply pressure. I cried out and gasped for breath, but they were merciless.
This process continued for what seemed like an eternity,before they finally told me to climb back onto the bench and stretch out.
Now came my reward. They tucked me up with a heavy cotton sheet and poured jug upon jug of hot medicated water over me. The soothing water soaked into the sheet and the sensation on my body was exquisite. I was drifting off peacefully until they coaxed me back to life and escorted me in my dream-like trance, back to my room.
For the second time in 12 hours, I staggered into bed.
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