I might visit more spas as I love 'em. Remember the nudie one in the US which changed my concept of body image for the better ? Here's my latest find, the Hammam Al Andalus in Grenada where swimwear is compulsory. A blessed thing I suppose as I booked a package there for me and Louis. Unless he chooses to walk in on me in a state of undress because he has an pressing need for a phone charger or something, parental nakedness is a no no these days.
Before we went to the Hamman, I explained, oh three times, that this was a grown up tranquil place. I made Louis swear, on pain of death, that he wouldn't play sharks. We had a glorious time here in a place that has been built on the site of ancient Arabic baths. It's exquisite with kind professional staff. I think that these guys copied their Roman predecessors because there are pools of varying temperatures. We had a couple of quick dips in the cold pool to be brave but mainly confined ourselves to the beautifully tiled hot and medium ones. And a fifteen minute massage with red amber oil was included in the price.
In the main my pre-visit threats were effective. Louis behaved like a grown up. All except for one moment where my navel gazing floatation was interrupted by an 'attack' from below. For teenage year are an odd mix of the childish and little adults. 'I told you not to play sharks!' I whispered. 'I' m not. I'm a submarine' said the boy!