About the Author:
Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.
This
wasn’t the best Thai massage I have ever had, but it was the cheapest. After months of searching and hundreds of
Thai massages, I had finally found the cheapest massage in Thailand.
Every
visitor to Thailand has heard of Thai massage.
Most visitors plan to get at least one good massage while in
Thailand.
Given
my slightly obsessive-compulsive personality, I couldn’t just come to Thailand
and have a good massage at my hotel and pay the $10 or $15 dollars there. No, I had to go out and look for the best
massage in Thailand!
My
search for the best Thai massage eventually came to an unimpressive end after
two weeks of trial massages, when I finally conceded that almost every massage
seemed like the best one at that moment.
But I couldn’t just drop the massage quest. My OCD driven quests never end so
easily. Buried deep inside my brain
lives a complex psychic trigger that once released cannot be reset. Unwillingly and against my more rational thoughts,
I knew that I would continue some kind of massage quest until the end of time,
unless I achieved a satisfactory goal.
For
several weeks while I worked, played and explored different parts of Thailand,
it seemed there was to be no final outcome to my quest for the best
massage. With my OCD driven impulse left
unfulfilled I would most likely sink into a serious case of the psychic
doldrums. An unrelenting feeling of something
undone, much like that feeling you get as you drive away on vacation, but then
30 minutes from home wonder if you have left the iron on or the gas stove on,
would nag at me until I resolved the massage issue.
I
was busy working in Bangkok, but the OCD placed a subtlety relentless pressure
on me. I found myself suddenly turning
from my current task at hand, to enter some massage shop I happened to be
passing. I had only the barest control
over this impulse.
One
massage in a day was no longer enough.
Two massages in the same day barely suppressed that nagging at the back
of my brain. Three massages led to
four. My body began to feel like a piece
of tenderized meat. When I lay down on a
massage mat, my muscles were so tender from the continual ministrations of one
masseuse after another that the very thought of another massage made me want to
run the other way. Two weeks of this and
my work began to suffer because of the time I was using each day just lying on
massage mats.
One
afternoon, around 4:00 PM while on another massage mat in a small roadside
shop, it came to me that what I should have been searching for all along was
not the best massage. No, I realized
that I should be searching for the cheapest massage in Bangkok!
After
all everyone loves a bargain! And if
every Bangkok visitor wants at least one good Thai massage, then it was a
certainty that many visitors had tried to find a bargain massage. Had they been successful? I don’t know.
Could I discover that elusive bargain?
I was sure I could do so.
With
that decision made, the unrelenting pressure instantly became just an elusive
shadow hanging in a back closet of my psyche waiting to nag at me should I fail
in this revised search.
Lying
on that mat while the masseuse pushed and pulled me one way and then another, I
imagined where I might find the cheapest massage in Thailand. I visualized a small shop, located in some
seedy, tight quartered part of Bangkok.
Outside the shop, a dozen people would be standing on line waiting their
turn to get cheaply pummeled and twisted.
But, as with most things in my life, the expectations and the reality
didn’t quite match.
The
most expensive massages in Bangkok are found at the more exclusive hotels and
resorts. These four and five star rated
hotels all have some kind of beauty salon, spa or health spa. A good Thai massage at one of these hotels
will run you anywhere from 300 up to 2,000 baht or more. These luxury spas offer aroma therapy, hot
stone massage, oil massage, facials and just about anything you can imagine to
primp, preen and tone a body.
The
masseuse or masseur is sure to be an accomplished and polished
professional. The salon décor will be
tasteful and expensive. Pleasant Thai or
New Age music will play softly in the background. Given the relatively high price of those
salon treatments, that is as just as it should be. You can’t go wrong with one of those high end
massages. You’re sure to walk away
appreciating the fine art of Thai massage.
But
once you leave the hotel spa and head out into the real Bangkok, the price of a
good Thai massage drops significantly.
The next day, after a morning that included 2 inexpensive massage stops
near my hotel, I decided to check one of the bar districts, in an area of
Bangkok known as Sukhuvit.
The
Bangkok bar areas famous or infamous, depending on your personal viewpoint, for
the sex tourists who come to visit are also home to scores of massage
shops. I figured that anyplace with such
a high concentration of massage shops, would also have a few cut-rate shops.
I
was now on a tight timetable, so I decided I couldn’t cut back to just one
massage a day. I would try to do two or
three massages in a day - maybe even four or five if I could stand the
pounding. With that decision made and
feeling oh so good about the new direction of my massage quest, I headed into
the heavy traffic that is always present in Bangkok.
The
bar district I visited is called Soi Cowboy.
There are loud, brightly lit bars lining both sides of a 500 yard long
walking street. . . .and hordes of excited tourists walking or drunkenly
staggering their way up the neon lit street.
I knew this wasn’t my kind of place, but for the purposes of research I
forced myself to join the throng.
After
wandering around for an hour I decided to try only one massage shop in this
area. I felt out of place here, but
since I had come this far, I would carry on.
I chose one shop that on the outside seemed a little bit worn and
battered.
Once
inside I realized I had opted for a slightly upscale shop with an appearance
similar to that of an expensive European or American spa. The girls sitting around in the dark wood and
marble clad entrance lobby were young, wore bright lipstick and sported eye
catching jewelry. Every masseuse was
smiling and beautiful.
There
was a glossy brochure on the counter, written in excellent English that listed
and described the types of massages available including; traditional Thai
massage, oil massage, soapy massage (normally only available in the bar
districts), facial massage and foot massage.
After reading the menu of offerings carefully and taking sharp note of
the prices, I had to back out of this shop somewhat gracelessly.
With
half a dozen beautiful young women staring at me, I handed the brochure back to
the older woman behind the counter, shaking my head no as I turned away. Blushing and feeling a little bit like a shy
teenager who has just been turned down when asking a pretty schoolmate for a
date, I slouched out the front door and moved quickly down the street, until
the shop was just a distant memory and my red face had dimmed to a normal
tanned color.
I
had cheap massage on the brain, not a sexy 500 baht massage. I couldn’t afford to waste my precious
massage time on such an overpriced massage, even if delivered by a beautiful
masseuse with a dragon tattoo on her left thigh. Deciding the bar street hadn’t been such a
good idea, I flagged a passing taxi.
I
asked the driver to take me to a healthful massage shop. He smiled and I could tell that he didn’t
understand me. But he nodded his head and
then whipped a sudden U-turn across the two tight lanes of traffic, leaving the
sound of squalling car horns echoing down the narrow soi behind us.
Quickly
I speed dialed my trusted Thai translator.
I shouted into the phone, “Onanong, quick tell the taxi driver I need a
healthful massage shop”. She is used to
getting these unexpected calls from me and simply replied “Okay”.
I
handed the phone to the driver. A quick
Thai conversation ensued. He just said
“kah, kah” (meaning yes,) as Onanong explained where to take me. Eventually he closed the cell phone and
without looking at me, began weaving his way through the heavy Bangkok traffic.
Ten
minutes later we pulled up in front of a small massage shop on a typically
seedy Bangkok commercial street. A sign
in both Thai and English read “Healthful Massage”. Onanong had taken me literally at my
word.
To
the left side of the massage shop was an open air store that advertised canvas
work. Half a dozen workers sat inside
the shop, in front of industrial sewing machines, working away at huge pieces
of bright yellow canvas, while smiling, laughing and obviously enjoying their
work. It was a very colorful shop.
On
the other side of the Healthful Massage shop was a store that displayed jars
filled with preserved snakes, frogs and strange twisted roots. Each jar in the store window contained a
different plant or animal part and held about three gallons of liquid. Some jars were filled with clear liquid
while others were cloudy white or amber or orange. This street was strictly local Bangkok all
the way. I had a good feeling about this
stop. It just looked cheap.
Still,
I entered the shop with a bit of trepidation after my last aborted attempt back
at Soi Cowboy. Once inside instead of
half a dozen beautiful masseuses, I saw this shop had two wrinkled old men
sitting on a hard straight bench against the back wall of the tiny shop.
The
receptionist was a woman, maybe 65 years old or maybe 105. Her face was a pattern work of the kind of
deep wrinkles that only come from years of hard work outside in the rice fields
beneath the harsh tropic sun. She still
had a few teeth, that glistened a frightening brown when she smiled up at me. The whites of her eyes were red rimmed and
had a yellow jaundiced appearance. I
smiled back at her, gave a half-hearted wai and made some hand motions
indicating I wanted a massage.
The
shop didn’t have a brochure nor a price list.
Although the two old guys smoking stinking Thai cigarettes in the back
of the shop made me want to turn and run, this was beginning to look like I
might be in the right place. How
expensive could a massage, given by a 72 year old masseur, actually be?
I
jumped in without any further hesitation.
I didn’t understand a word they said, of course. But it was clear that the soiled sponge
rubber mat on the floor in the far corner was to be my massage table. I took a deep breath and lay down on my back.
I
should point out that in traditional Thai massage, the massage is performed
with your street clothing on or with a set of loose cotton tops and bottoms,
provided by the salon just for the massage. Of course for oil and soapy
massages, you must disrobe leaving on only your briefs, which you should cover
with a towel that is thoughtfully provided by the upscale salons, and even more
thoughtfully not provided by those massage shops near Soi Cowboy.
Unlike
European style massages the Thai massage uses no oil or skin lubricants and
usually begins with the recipient lying on his or her back. The masseuse begins on the legs and feet and
moves up from there. The back is not
given as much time as in a Swedish massage.
Traditional
Thai massage is performed using a series of pressing moves. The muscles are pressed, sometimes softly and
sometimes quite hard. The masseuse uses
her elbows, knees, thighs and other parts of her body to leverage your body
around as needed.
The
old masseur knelt on the edge of the dirty massage mattress. He performed a high wai aimed to the small
shrine near the reception counter and
immediately got to work. He might have
looked decrepit, but he had no problem with pressing, pulling and twisting my
body around.
I
closed my eyes and tried to fantasize that the working over I was getting was
being done by one of the young masseuses I had just abandoned back at Soi
Cowboy. But when the old guy started
coughing and had to go hack something up into the gutter outside the shop, I
knew this massage wasn’t going to make my top 10 list. In fact I didn’t wait for him to come
back.
While
he bent over coughing his lungs into the gutter, once again I decided to
abandon a massage shop. After only 15
minutes of my massage time, I sprang up from the filthy mat and not knowing the
price of this massage, handed a 500 baht note to the old lady up front.
She
handed back 400 baht. 100 baht was the
cheapest massage so far, but I knew I could do better! This crappy massage couldn’t mark the end of
my quest.
I
flagged another taxi. I directed the
driver back to my hotel to re-group my thoughts. Maybe I should develop a more organized plan
of action. What I had done so far that
day wasn’t too successful. It certainly
wasn’t anything I wanted to brag about.
Back
at the hotel, I walked out onto the boat dock that juts out into the Chao
Phraya River, thinking maybe I would take a water taxi and try a massage shop
located near one of the many docks that provide access to the waterway.
Leaning
on a wood railing overlooking the river, I noticed a brightly colored gold and
red rooftop up stream from the hotel. It
looked like a temple, but I thought it might be a restaurant. I was hungry so, I walked out to the
road. After taking a couple of false
starts down dead end soi’s, I found the right alley to take me to that
pier.
When
I stepped into this narrow alley, I couldn’t help but feel the end of my quest
was near. Every storefront along this
alleyway advertised Thai massage. In
just one short stretch of alley there were more than 15 narrow storefront shops
advertising Thai massage. Some said 100
baht and a couple even advertised 80 baht.
I smiled. Maybe the end really was near.
By
the riverfront, at the end of this massage alley, I entered a fancy gold
colored patio structure that turned out to be part of the Temple Wat Varashanayawat. Don’t bother looking in your guidebook, this
temple is not there! I already looked
through mine. I had really struck
massage gold this time.
Later,
I learned that this temple provides government accredited massage
instruction. They run a massage school
that has hundreds of students enrolled at any time. Not as well known as Wat
Po, this temple has scores of masseurs and masseuses working or studying from
early morning till late into the night.
The basic course here takes one month to complete. It consists of hands on massage work Monday
to Friday and then classroom study Saturday and Sunday.
Under
cover of a gaudy brilliant gold colored roof are a series of shrines. Huge brass gongs and really big drums sit
there just waiting for someone to bang on them.
I couldn’t resist pounding the big drum.
It’s deep bass sound echoed through the hall. A hundred heads swiveled my way and I felt
like I should crawl under a massage mat and hide. Dropping a few baht into the offering dish
next to the drum, I walked on toward the river.
I
was the only farang in sight.
Unexpectedly a woman grabbed my wrist.
She could speak some broken English.
I understood as she said “massagy 50 baht”, “50 baht” and so I allowed
her to lead me. She gently pulled me
toward the dock.
The
massage shop she dragged me to had no solid walls. The front wall was my height at about 6 feet
tall. The wall was an open block design
that allowed a breeze to move through. A
flat rusty metal patio style roof covered the massage area. The river was visible through the lace-like
block. Taped onto the glass of the entry
door were two posters.
One
poster displayed a colorful schematic of a foot and in large bold letters in
English said REFLEXOLOGY. The other
poster showed the musculature of a human body.
Various pressure points and nerves were diagrammed. I wondered if I was entering a study hall or
a massage parlor?
Inside
there were a dozen Thai massage mats laid out in two rows. There were also a couple of hair washing
stations and three stations for Thai face massage. Still holding my shirtsleeve at the wrist,
she showed me to a mat, which was clean and inviting.
I
lay down on the mat, face upwards, waiting for a masseuse to come over. As things turned out, the woman who dragged
me there, was to be my masseuse. While
she worked I quizzed her about the school and about the Temple.
No,
she wasn’t a student. This question made
her laugh. She works for the Temple and
shares the proceeds of the massage 50/50 with the temple administration. Since her English skills were limited two
other masseuses came to crouch by my mat and the three of them joined together
to talk to me.
This
one hour massage was only 50 baht.
That’s only $1.70 US. Thanks to a
little help from Buddha, I had finally found the cheapest massage in
Bangkok.
PS: If you find one less expensive, please don’t
write me.
End
