Fangotherapy by Kate Morris

The temperature is a soothing seventy five degrees in the shady olive grove. Stretching and purring, I roll onto my back, squint at the sun and sigh. The branches rustle gently. I sigh again. What should I do this afternoon? Remain here at the Grand Hotel, Abano (a town renowned for its mud extracted from the mountains - the Romans brought their sick horses here for treatment) and happily succumb to yet another massage, or visit nearby Padua to weep at the exquisite Giotto murals?

I’m ostensibly here to cleanse body and revitalise mind. Maria, a woman with sturdy forearms, is helping me. Maria overseas my daily mud - or ‘fangotherapy’ - treatment. Although I was apprehensive at first, I am now used to Maria flinging matured sludge onto my naked body then leaving me slimy and warm, waiting for the toxins to sweat out. Thankfully she is kind enough to press an ice cold compress on my forehead. After fifteen minutes she hoses off the mud, then ushers me into a warm, thermal, ozonized bath that smells a little bit like sulphur. Eight minutes later she rubs me all over with a warm towel and gently dries my feet. Floating on air, I shuffle to the post mud massage. Mirva rotates my creaking limbs as though she is playing with a giant Barbie doll. She gives me a massage from heaven, a massage that is so sublime, sensual and indulgent, that I would do almost anything to make her go on beyond the allotted twenty eight minutes.

By day three my skin is glowing, but I have become aware that my surroundings are weirdly surreal. There is something vaguely disturbing about the rows and rows of sunbeds positioned in Germanic lines around the indoor thermal pools, and the manner in which we amble around in towelling dressing gowns looking so gaga. On my last morning, I am up at some absurdly early hour, in order to fit in my mud appointment. Maria now considers me a veteran, and today the mud is even hotter and I’m restrained under the blanket for a few agonising moments longer. The claustrophobia is worth it. I have honestly never felt better. The glowing feeling remains until I am back in London and lasts several weeks.