better a hairy man's bitch than a poor man's wife ---> as I'm sure Tammy Wynette sang on some opus or other during the 70s. Tammy was never one of the "I'll be a post feminist in the post-patriarchy' types.
Hamman was amazing. Very cool space. Stars cut through the stone to give illusion of a starlit sky and help heat the building. And a really gentle heat. You sweat almost without noticing.
Changing room was a curtained daybed - the kind that I'd imagine finding Cindy Gallup using during meetings; perfect for positioning yourself to receive grapes from a scantily clad and well oiled wench.
Body scrub was good - weirdly the people doing the scrubbing are all women. Most baths allow men only. They don't scrub your stomach - or maybe they just didn't scrub mine... that would have required overtime.
Which leads me with news anchor neatness to a new project.
The NUP
The NUP is the Naked Uganda Project.
I've realized on this trip that I am a bloated middle aged man showing all of the signs of a long commute, a fondness for wine and a partiality for the 'too cold for the gym' excuse.
I am flabby
I am saggy
I am ashamed
And I'm about to do something about it.
We head for Uganda in December.
I will be in shape by then.
Good enough shape to have Jude take a serious of hot but artistic nudes of me in remote outposts. Me nude being charged by a rhino (and boy do they charge through the nose - boom, Boom!) - that kind of thing.
Worry not - pics won't ever be posted. But I've already signed up for a personal trainer in a personal gym. 1 on 1. Just us. No excuses. Nowhere to hide. It's gonna be brutal and I'm gonna bitch and moan here. But I will be in shape by Xmas.
So NUP - the Naked Uganda Project starts here.
Back to the title though. Whilst in the bath a very elderly Greek Cypriot man asked whether I'd help scrub his hairy back. Being foreign and gullible I said "okay". I scrubbed. He said thank you. He left. I had massage. All was good. Except I think that I may now officially be his bitch. Isn't that a rule? You scrub a man in a Hamman and he owns you? I do hope not -- he was old enough to be Anna Nicole Smith husband material - and much as I loved the diet pill popping old trout I don't think I wanna be the new Anna Nicole yet.
Okay enough rambling. Back to the balcony.
8 comments:
Oh pish flaps to trainers, just get out the lift and live somewhere with stairs. Should you pay me a visit you'll find I live on the 4th floor with no lift, and lost 5 1/2lbs in 4 days the week I moved in. Had I not let the Romanians carry the heavy 2/3 of the stuff I swear I'd half dropped half a stone. And i didn't have to scrub no hairy backs... though the chain-smoking scot's lady downstairs looked keen... Now put your clothes back on before you get sodomized by a Ugandan trucker - who were once famous I believe for the highest rate of HIV amongst any profession in the world. NALOPKT!
Lived on a 5th floor walk-up (see I took your floor and raised you one) for years in New York.
All that happened was that I had food delivered and only met my fat friends in restaurants rather than at home
Post them! What's the point of using photos as an incentive when there's no risk associated with failure. Two words: Full frontal. Let's see 'em.
You're a closet naturist. Don't forget the factor 50.
a) I too say "bring them on"
b) Why Uganda over 'asia'???
Is that an American 5th floor or a british fifth floor. The Americans would say I too live on the 5th floor... without a fire-escape which is rather worrying... hopefully the place is full of asbestos...
It's Uganda rather than Asia mainly because it's a December trip and one that's been on our radar forever...
Asia is coming too. We may well have interviews and the like coming up - so we're hoping to snag paid for tickets early in '09.
Call us cheap if you will...
Come as you are, flabby or no. The animals just don't care either way. And nor do the truckers, when they've had a Tusker or two...
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