I tried both a steam bath and sauna yesterday. The steam bath felt like Dixie meets Riyadh, my own personal definition of hell: 100% humidity and unbearable heat. I was cooking in steam, breathing it in as if I were veg. Maybe it was the wrong kind of steam bath. Maybe I was in “the wrong state of mind”, you know like when you smoke weed and nothing happens. Instead of relaxing (amazing how everyone seems to ask you to relax, from dentists to doctors, from parents to lovers, to colleagues: no I can’t relax; I am a worrier. That’s why I care. That’s why I look after you and myself and everyone. If I was the relaxing guy I wouldn’t care, I wouldn’t be here, would I?), I eventually rushed out of the steam bath to the shower gasping for air.
Then I tried the sauna. Much better. Smell of wood. Nice. Relaxing sounds and light patterns. Ooh. No steam. Relaxing. Good for meditation, too (yes, I know what most saunas are for this side of the Baltic). Much more bearable. So, once more, in my book at least, Ottomans 0 Scandinavians 1. I stayed in the sauna until I was breathing in fiery air (curiously there was no water to create some steam). To the shower and back to the sauna. Then I joined Jod in the pool.
Dinner was terrifyingly good. This being the Outpost, it was plentiful, too. If this is Chinese haute cuisine, I would rather stick with haute. Although I cannot afford it. And you must book two months in advance, or something.
Which is all a tangential way to say what a wonderful break we had yesterday, complete with walking on the beach in the rain — and with whatever else there is.