Should Massage Just Be Saved for Holidays?

As someone who believes in practising what I preach, I always make time for a massage while on holiday. So when I recently found myself in Turkey, naturally, I carved out time to visit a traditional Turkish hammam. But the experience left me wondering: is this what many people think massage is—and why they don’t bother finding time for it in their day-to-day life?

Now, I’ve had some “memorable” massage experiences overseas (ask me about Thailand and Egypt another time), but this Turkish adventure deserves its own story.

The Hammam Hustle

Armed with my expert haggling friend and a recommendation from the local tourist office, we found a hammam that had space for us straight away. We were welcomed by a polite gentleman, handed musty sarongs (yikes), and—after some confusion about footwear—headed to the changing rooms.

The first stop: the tepidarium—a gentle, warm room that’s like the chilled-out cousin of a sauna. I love a good sauna (frequent flyer at hotel spas in Falmouth and Newquay), so this cosy start was lovely… for all of five minutes. Just as I was beginning to relax, in walked a man: “Come, come, next!”

So much for unwinding.

From Tepid to Awkward

In rapid succession, we were shuffled from the steam room (great in theory, too brief in practice), to a salt room that looked more like a broom cupboard in need of a mop. Having previously experienced a beautifully serene salt room in Brentford, this was… underwhelming.

Then came the main event—the hammam scrub. I lay on a slippery stone platform, mildly disoriented, and was scrubbed within an inch of my life by a young man wielding a mitt and a bucket of cold water. Then came the foam massage, where things got awkward. Let’s just say, language barriers and bikini straps do not mix.

I spent most of the massage trying not to think about how young he looked—and desperately hoping it would be over soon.

“Upgraded Diagnosis”—Mid-Massage

After the rinse, we were served warm apple tea—the highlight of the experience! I sat sipping it, already thinking, We should definitely offer this at Keheren Therapy!

Next came the massage… and the real comedy began.

There were no consultation forms, no questions about my health, medications, or massage preferences—just a friendly smile and a quick start. The therapist lightly brushed over my calves and shoulders, then paused… to check her phone. Moments later, she left the room and returned with a man who, in the briefest of chats, informed me I had fluid retention, scoliosis, and severe shoulder spasms—and urgently needed a €30 upgrade.

With my knowledge as a therapist—and, you know, as the actual owner of my body—I knew two of those were absolute nonsense. I politely declined. They both tutted. The massage ended about eight minutes later.

A Humbling Reminder

I’m thankful for the experience—it was amusing in parts and certainly gave me material! But it also left me a bit sad. Sad that for some people, this is their only idea of what a massage is. No consultation, no tailoring, no trust or comfort—just a conveyor belt of awkwardness.

At Keheren Therapy, we do things differently.

We provide:

✅ A safe, welcoming environment
✅ Consultations to understand your body, history, and preferences
✅ Highly trained therapists with the right qualifications and experience
✅ A treatment plan that’s tailored to you—not guessed mid-massage

That said… I did get one other massage at our hotel, and it was genuinely lovely—though again, no one asked about health conditions or contraindications. So even if the setting is beautiful, be your own advocate. Share any issues, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.

Your body deserves better than guesswork.

Massage isn’t just for holidays or hotel spas. It’s not a luxury—it’s a powerful tool for health, relaxation, and well-being.