I have now considered myself as an advocate of pleasure and by pleasure I mean, peace of mind, relaxation, refreshment, comfort and freedom. In my mind, I may have also started an anti-stress campaign which rejects anything that has to do with morbidity, worrying, anxiety and over-analysis. The mind can be useful in so many ways. I might as well maximize its capacity to luxuriate in the abundance of life and enjoy every good thing that comes from it. It has been a habit for most of us to focus on the complication than recognize the good situation. It's not easy but I think it was my willingness to achieve liberty from all the unnecessary thoughts that has driven me to open myself to the astounding presence of grace around me.
So before flooding this blog with my stress reduction speech which I think is not what you are expecting, I just want to share some of these interesting articles about Mud Bath which I personally would like to try maybe one of these days. Inspired by Cleopatra who used Dead sea black mud as an ancient tradition, the mud bath is also therapeutic in nature. It promotes radiant complexion, detoxify the skin, ease muscle tension, alleviate inflammation and sooth arthritis.
The Mud Bath Experience:
The traditional mud treatment is typically divided into several parts:
- 1st Shower: The self-explanatory first step of the treatment is quick. It prepares the body for immersion.
- Mud Immersion: At a temperature of around 110 degrees, the rich mud mixture is extremely warm and thick. Immersion involves stepping into the tub and maneuvering the body into such a position that it is entirely covered in the substance. Remaining spots left untouched are covered by an attendant. This step typically lasts for 12 minutes. It is important to note the following points:
- The body will literally suspend itself in the mud; thus, you will not experience the sensation of settling at the bottom of the tub. Instead, bathers usually describe a weightless sensation settling over their bodies as their muscles relax.
- It is normal for first-timers to experience drowsiness and even drift off to sleep for a few moments during immersion. The combination of the steamy environment and the mud's soothing properties accounts for this sensation.
- It is equally normal, then, to experience mild difficulty getting out of the tub. The body is enrobed in a thick coating of mud, and it is often sticky and heavy. Alighting from the tub is akin to very light weightlifting.
- 2nd Shower: It usually takes several minutes to completely remove the viscous mud from the body. Due to its clingy property, it is usually necessary to manually "scrape" the mud off.
- Mineral Bath: This 15 minute bath subjects the body to the bubbling vigor of hot-air jets. Exceptionally soothing, the jets massage and energize the body, continuing the mud's therapeutic work.
- Steam Bath: A few minutes in a quiet, natural steam room warmed with moist heat is an optional part of the process. The steam room is often scented with aromatherapy oils to further enhance the experience.
- Blanket Wrap: During the final stage of the treatment, the body is swathed in clean, dry blankets in a private room. A nap is customary during this cooling down process.
The mud bath is often a prelude to an invigorating massage. Post-bath, the muscles are relaxed and loose from the heat, and the body is in optimum condition to reap the benefits of a massage. Select from several types of massages.
Via
Love To Know Skin Care
Dalyan Mud Bath in Turkey
This photo of
Dalyan Mud Bath is courtesy of TripAdvisor
"I want to experience plunging myself on this mud pool with my friends and boyfriend! I heard that the mud stinks as it smells like Sulphur. But for the heck of it, I want to have fun and get dirty!"
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| MARMARIS, TURKEY |
A MUST-READ STORY!
Another interesting experience shared by National Geographic, Alison Ince.
There I was, in the crater of a small volcano, floating on a column of mud that stretched a mile and a half down into the Earth, thinking this was certainly one of the more unusual experiences in my life. So much mud filled my ears that the rest of the world sounded as though it was underwater. The masseuse moved from rubbing mud into my scalp down onto my shoulders. There was nothing to do but try to keep the mud out of my mouth and relax.
My two travel companions and I had heard about the mud pool at Volcan del Totumo near the coastal Caribbean city of Cartagena and were determined not to miss it on our trip to Colombia. Eager to avoid the mud rush hours–vans from Cartagena hotel tour groups in the morning, buses from cruise ships in the afternoon–we hired a taxi for the same price as a tour to drive us the roughly 30 miles from Cartagena. An hour and a half and one flat tire later, we turned off the main paved two-lane highway onto a dirt road leading through the forest of totumo trees that gave the volcano its name. After a few hundred yards, the trees opened up to reveal the shores of a wide lagoon with Volcan de Totumo at its edge.
The volcano was smaller than I had imagined, more of a five-story high dirt hill than a seething fire mountain. But any disappointment was appeased by the realization that we had timed our visit perfectly. Here we were at a major tourist destination infamous for its crowds yet we could hear birds off in the lagoon, the wind in the trees, and light laughter from the volcano’s opening above us.
Within a few minutes the other small group had left and we were the only visitors for the next two hours. Vendors selling food and bottles of the therapeutic mud lingered around the base of the volcano but our single taxi did not seem to arouse much interest. I would later realize that this was usual; coastal Colombia is not a place you get hassled much.
We paid the $2 entrance fee, left our clothes in the taxi, and climbed the steep wooden stairs on the side of the volcano in our bathing suits. Once on the top, I confess that I took almost no notice of the spectacular view out across the lagoon next to us. I could only gaze down at the wooden ladder caked with mud that stretched ten feet into the crater to the gray mud below.
The mud was not especially pretty to look at. It had the drab color of fresh cement and while it didn’t have a strong sulphuric odor, it still smelled just as you would imagine: heavy, wet earth.
But sliding into it was all comfort. As I stepped off the ladder, the mud parted smooth as water and held me up on the surface. My legs floated up, as if I were in a sea of salt, and the easiest positions were either floating on my back or stomach.
The inconsistency of the mud intrigued me. Some layers were cool, others warm. Sometimes it felt as smooth as well-melted chocolate; other times the graininess of the dirt brushed my skin like a gentle exfoliant and small rocks moved between my fingers.
The massage was part of the experience (tips were expected at the end) and my friends and I were each treated to rubs that lasted nearly 40 minutes. While the massage by the bored-looking young man was relaxing but not especially intense, it was certainly unusual. Because we were floating, our backs and stomachs could be rubbed at the same time, lending a curious gravity-free sensation to the experience.
After the massages were over, we bobbed around in the mud for another 15 minutes, chatting with one of the masseuses. Now in his early 30s, he had been working at the volcano for more than 20 years. His baby-smooth face could have been an advertisement for the beneficial properties of the mud.
Our mud bath finished with each of us being pushed completely under the mud. For a moment I felt the mud pressing against my eyelids and worried that the seal of my lips would break from contained laughter. The situation was so absurd, so strange. We each emerged from our dunk sputtering mud and laughing.
But the adventure was far from over; now was the time to be bathed. As we wiped the mud from our eyes and slipped messily down the stairs on the outside of the volcano, three women approached us and led us down a path and into the lagoon. Pushed down into a crouch so that I was in water up to my neck, I could barely catch my breath as buckets of fresh water were poured over my head, fingers were stuck into the crevasses of my ears, and my hair was kneaded so vigorously that clumps of mud and small rocks rained into the water around me.
Both parts of my bathing suit were pulled from me, beaten against the water and tugged awkwardly back over me. As we stumbled back up the path to our taxi, stunned almost more at this final surprise than at any of the mud wallowing, I realized that my bathing suit had been replaced inside out. But it was all part of the adventure.
