more on vegas, all-american city

reflecting
 i would write more on this blog, i really would, if the  system wasn't so damn hard to figure out. i spend hours and hours and emails back and forth to live help and can have nothing to show for it.

suddenly now, it's back to blogger normal and another italian place to go: the venetian. the skies are always blue in st. mark's square, night and day, day and night.

deb, my lovely lissome yoga teacher in south lyon, suggested that i might like to go to the canyon ranch spa at the venetian. for $40 you can spend all day there and she did that for four whole days while her husband was at a convention. she loved every minute of it. in addition to yoga, deb took a foot reflexology class and a class called "strip fit" which may only be offered in vegas and might as well be called "stripper readiness." for me, she recommended the yoga teacher named angela, who would be teaching a "restore and relax" class at 1 p.m. on saturday. "and give her a hug for me," said deb. 

angela was thrilled that deb had sent me, and immediately gave me a big hug. she taught the class in the dark, with only a few scented candles at the front and offering aromatherapy scented towels (eucalyptus-mint or lavender) for our eyes. it was quite relaxing, mostly easy stretches, mostly done by slender young women in expensive yoga gear, but no worries, no one could see each other in any case, what with the dark and the towels. angela was very sweet, adding a neck massage, and sending a big hug back to deb. i've noticed that yoga teachers really like to hug.

then i began to understand how deb could spend days and days there. i wanted to check out as much as i could, but i only had two hours after the yoga class. here's what i did:

about 15 minutes in the "salt cave." you know how negative ions in the air make you feel better? here the semi-circular warmed ceramic tile benches face a wall where big chunks of warm salt crystals are diffused into the air, releasing negative ions. the light is low; the ceiling dark, with twinkling stars. soft, indeterminate music plays. i tried to feel purified.

another 15 in the wave room with zero gravity loungers. here you lie with your feet and legs higher than your head in comfortable loungers. the light is low; projected on the ceiling is a constantly changing sloshing of waves of clear blue-green water. more vague, restful music played. most people seemed to be asleep.

a short while in the steam room, followed by my first "rain experience." the pretty turquoise tiled showers outside the steam room and sauna have three controls: i chose "tropical jungle," gentle, cool water accompanied by various bird and mammal sounds, with some sweet scents thrown in for good measure.

longer in the sauna, which had changing pastel lights in the ceiling and more of that calming music, then another rain experience: "caribbean storm." this started with a nice steady rain and some sea breeze sorts of scents, which without warning suddenly turned into a torrent of freezing water, and some distant thunder.

"arctic mist" was a third choice; i skipped this one.

there were both single-sex and co-ed lounging areas with expensive fashionable magazines, a jacuzzi and an aromatherapy room and an ice cave, a snacks and coffee bar full of chatting women with wet hair in their robes, and more...but i had to leave.

throughout the spa were large glass urns filled with water, sometimes with sliced lemons or cucumbers or oranges or mint at the bottom. herb tea was also available in many flavors and bowls of apples and bananas. the robes were quite elegant, with beige cotton on the outside and smooth terry on the inside, while the slippers were "zen-dals" with bumpy insoles to stimulate your feet. the hair and skin products all were based on organic bamboo, of course.

i'd never been to a spa before and probably the canyon ranch is not the place to start, as surely any other will be tame by comparison. i'd plan on a whole day next time. you can visit their web page for some visuals, and some features i've no doubt forgotten.

relaxed, restored, and super clean, on my way out i asked a question on jm's behalf: how much is the hot stones massage? she's always wanted one and her birthday is coming up. answer: $280. i decided not to ask my question: how much is a pedicure? i'll wait til i get to india and go for one of those specials where fish nibble off the dead skin. i hear it tickles.

the venetian yielded one last photo op, from the window of an expensive gift shop offering fine italian crafts. here we see, all rendered in finest porcelain, the last supper (after leonardo, with some modifications) and above it, michelangelo in the process of carving a sensitive part his david. it's hard to see, but a sketch for the piece lies on the ground to the right, and an assortment of artist's tools are scattered about, adding a convincing realism. why didn't i ask the prices? more or less than a hot stones massage? more, probably, much more. and you would want both of these; they work well together to create a real renaissance feeling.

why bother with europe? 

jm does have a little gambling streak in her soul, so she signed up to join the player's club at the flamingo, where we were staying. it keeps track of your investments in the slots and other games, and you are rewarded with comps for the buffet, or even given free rooms and other amenities. on check-out, she asked the desk to read out her total points and found that she'd racked up fifteen cents in credits. i guess we aren't really vegas types after all.