06 December 2009


Sunday, Oct 25 ~ St George's Bay Country Club, Acharavi


Dec 6 Update

Clever 'Corfiot' editrice Hilary Paipeti had the bright idea for her November edition of asking personnes distinguées  to tell her what they want what they reelly reelly want in their Xmas stocking.

Thinking herself equally clever, Maman somewhat unsubtly yearned for a Day Pass to Palazzo Ivi. (Hint hint, nudge wink, freebie freebie)

My guess is that Herr Fried Aumann Harald Stollwitzer did not get where he is today by falling for tricks like that - even when tried on by experts like my mother. Hrrmph.

I, of course, lost all grasp of reality and prayed for just 9 hours free of any waft or whisper of that accursèd G word with which I'll not defile this blog but it starts with G, ends in N, and rhymes with 'pardon'.

I'm surprised Hilary even gave space to such a fantasy hope.

Far more realistic would have been to ask for a complimentary Day Pass to one of Mr Aumann's shapely fresh-faced spa-leins.


Wonderful entry in the 28 Nov issue of the Spectator mag.

Readers had to submit an extract from a novel, of which one letter of the title had been changed, in the style of the original author.

I'm rarely jealous but I went thru a Hemingway stage and Noel Petty (a frequent winner) left me spluttering in envy and admiration:

The Old Man and the Spa

"The old man lay back in the mud. He had known about mud all his life, but not like this, not on a bed.

The old man could not see the mud because the gringo nurses had placed slices of the pepino plant on his eyes.

Before the mud, the old man had had the hot stones and the thing with the feet. But in his life he had suffered much, and this had been nothing.

They had given him the juice of the zanahoria, and it too was nothing.

The gringo lady with the papeles had spoken of pampering. The old man did not know what this pampering was, but he knew he had the cojones for it.

Had he not conquered the great fish?

This is how it is, he thought, and waited for the aromatherapy to begin."

Loipon. Back to my original post

Yes, well, it sure wasn't Open Day for YOU rabble but for the rest of us rabelaisian 'A' List types, we got to cruise the state-of-the-art wellness spa at the Country Club.

  • It's been operating since May this year but I've resolutely refused to share this info' for fear of colliding with the 'wrong type' (i.e. readers of this blog)
  • They stay open all winter, so I know where I'll be warming my tootsies and pumping and primping the Body B.
  • Ideal for stocking fillers come Noël ~ gift certificates for your fondest and femalest.

  • I alerted Belovèd Bavarienne - She Who Got Me Off Fags - that she could drop her endearingly convincing orgasmimicry shrieks of delight at:

    1. Wrong shade of lipstick
    2. Pongy parfum
    3. Tacky (but not to me) Nether Raiment

    This Xmas she's getting the 'Spa Spéciale.'

    Quoth St. George's Bay's ageless ebullient ever-efficient Resident Manager, Fried Aumann Harald Stollwitzer:

    "We cordially invite you to join us on an Open Day on Sunday, October 25th, 2009 between 10 am and 7 pm.

  • Bring your swim-suit.
  • Snacks and refreshments will be offered.
  • The Ivi Spa offers a 25-metre semi-Olympic seawater swimming pool with a constant temperature of 28°.
  • It also boasts a jacuzzi, bio-sauna, Nordic sauna, steam bath, tepidarium, and a large fitness section with TechnoGym equipment.
  • See October issues of The Corfiot and Coffeetime for more details."
    • I can vouch for the Spa's excellence:
      • The perfect place for a "rendez-vous " - in particular, check out what I dub the Valentine Room with its double-size jacuzzi for two complete with low lighting and soft muzak seeping from hidden speakers.

        Hi-fi in one corner, low fidelity in the tub, what?

    Addendum: guess what ~ I am just back from the Spa Open Day and Fried has actually adopted my 'Valentine's Tub' quip into his brochure.
  • Every possible sauna-type sweatery
  • Trained gorgeouses standing by to attend to your every knead
  • Vaut le détour.

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