Slippery When Wet

Last week: I went to Carolus Thermen

Question: Why don't German women shave?
Answer:   Himalayan peeling salt

This was one of the many things I discovered on my first visit to the Carolus Thermen spa in Aachen last week, where I went for a blissful afternoon of relaxation with my friend Rachel. With the Android 80 album launch to prepare for, an abundance of translations to work on and a looming visit from the new CEO at the office, the last couple of weeks have been somewhat stressful. Last Thursday I was even quite happy to spend an hour in the dentist's chair just for the opportunity to relax and have a breather. Sunday's spa trip was the ideal way to round off this kind of high pressure period.

Carolus Thermen is one of the few thermal baths within easy driving distance that I had not yet visited and I was keen to discover how a German spa would compare with the Belgian ones where I have already grown to love whiling away my limited free time. On first impression, Carolus was very similar to the Thermes de Spa to the point that I would wager that the large indoor pool and outdoor bathing areas were designed by the same architect.

Not unlike their Scandinavian neighbours, the Germans prefer their spa experience au naturel and before entering the sauna and hammam area, bathing suits are discarded and replaced by birthday suits. This didn't phase me too much: I am fairly comfortable being naked in an environment where everybody is in the same boat and, while you may get the odd Kelly Brookalike, the majority of fellow spa-goers come in all shapes and sizes, so it's difficult to feel overly self-conscious. Add to that the fact that I was over 60 kilometres away from home, in a different country and unlikely to bump into someone with whom I share a photocopier, I was happy to whip off my speedos and get back to nature.

An 'A' Level German certificate obtained the wrong side of the Millennium can only get you so far and I struggled to interpret much of the signage adorning the walls. I contemplated the words "Sexuelle Handlungen" mentioned on a sign at the entrance to the nudist area...Could this notice be the equivalent of the notorious 70s poster that we all loved to giggle at back in the days of school swimming trips, bearing the warning "No Petting"? Clearly not. Everywhere I looked, couples varying vastly in degrees of age and attractiveness were draped over one another, dewy-eyed and salivating. One pair who were treading a fine line between innocent canoodling and out and out fornication, were approached by a member of staff and asked to turn things down a notch or two. I made a mental note to lay off the dive-bombing.

27 € for 3,5 hours made the afternoon fairly expensive compared to other baths I have frequented. But the sauna/hammam area seemed to go that extra mile than elsewhere. Surrounded by mosaic tiles creating a North African vibe, the central pool area was an oasis of tranquillity with soothing underwater music and a ceiling emulating a night sky complete with twinkling stars. Aaah.

According to Rachel, one of the plus points of the Carolus Thermen is that there are no creepy guys on the prowl. She couldn't have been more wrong. Immersed in the healing waters, listening to the inoffensive harp soundtrack and lapping up every minute, I suddenly became aware of another presence, a little too close for comfort. Invading my space was a hairy, oily early 50s guy with greasy slicked back locks and the kind of eyes that met in the middle of his face, making him look not so dissimilar to a Mandrill monkey. Uncomfortable, I exited the pool, aware of him following my every move, his eyes undressing me. Wait a minute...I was already naked...how does that work? Putting the incident behind me, I plunged into the hot bath in a different room and began to wind down again. Seconds later, my hirsute friend was bathing right beside me, a slimy grin dissecting his face. Time for a hammam.

The collection of 'baby' hammams is a novel idea. At differing temperatures, each individual bath has enough space for just two people, potentially slightly weird if you were to share one with an unclothed stranger, although perhaps not a bad idea for a first date, allowing you to dispense with social niceties and get the uncomfortable moment of seeing one another naked for the first time over and done with. I enjoyed a few minutes alone in a moderately heated cubicle and, as I was about to open the door to leave, who should come sliding in, but Mr Nice 'n' Sleazy. I hurried passed him, my skin literally crawling. This was going beyond stalking.


Nena: 99 matted hairs

It took some persistence, but I finally managed to shake off Mr Nice 'n' Sleazy and enjoy the rest of what Carolus Thermen had to offer, including the cold plunge and ice cube room (brrrr). Before entering the hottest hammam, we had the option of applying Himalayan Peeling Salt to our skin. Apparently, this pink grainy substance is rubbed all over the body and, combined with a few minutes in the hammam, can help eliminate toxins and balance your body's pH levels. The only toxic presence that I needed to eliminate was Mr Nice 'n' Sleazy, so I was more than willing to give it a go. Within seconds of application, I was wincing, my poor legs stinging and red raw. In typical paranoid British style, I had insisted on shaving before being seen bare limbed in public. We may disapprove of our furry German sisters, but maybe there is method in their madness after all.

Feeling a little peckish on the way home, Rachel suggested stopping off at one of her favourite restaurants, a fabulously authentic Turkish eatery in Aachen city centre. She recommended the Mercimek Corbasi - Lentil soup - which was a truly delicious and hearty treat. And as if things couldn't get any better, in sidled Mr Nice 'n' Sleazy who sat opposite, looking over as he munched on a kebab.

Would I try this again?: If I ever see Mr Nice 'n' Sleazy again, I'm calling the police.