I neglected to mention in Monday’s post that I didn’t even go swimming at Britannia. I also didn’t mention that the lifeguards wore windbreakers. (Maybe that was self-evident given that I did write about the wind and white caps.) I did go so far as to pick my way through the seaweed carcasses and wade in up to my ankles about 15 minutes before I left to catch the bus home.
Monday afternoon’s sandblasting session has done wonders for the soles of my feet—a mini-pedicure, shall we say—and for my legs, sloughing off dry skin cells. That reminds of the item I read in The Ottawa Citizen this past weekend: “In Tokyo, sushi gets its revenge” (L1). For those who didn’t read it, the article’s author, Andrea Sachs of The Washington Post, signed up for a “Doctor Fish foot treatment” at Ooedo-Onsen-Monogatari, a Japanese hot springs spa. The spa has a pondful of Garra rufa, fish that feed on “dry, flaking human skin,” writes Sachs. She notes that she “could feel the light flutter of their fins against my skin and the slight pinch of their mouths. It would have been calming had it not been so disturbing.” I should think so! I think I’ll pass—I’m not big on seafood—and stick with my sand & surf treatment, thank you very much. Or I’ll break down and book an appointment at Spa Haven.
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