Hydromassage

Last week I went to the Jurlique Wellness Sanctuary Day Spa at Chapel Street for a hydromassage session. I once thought that spas are overrated and their popularity would soon die down just like any other trend has. Wrong thinking. It is no argument that spas and treatments are still considered as indulgence; but these establishments have marketed themselves well enough to be seen beyond its extravagance face. They have managed to shift the focus into health and well-being, not a bad concept considering the increasing awareness and attention that people nowadays put into healthy living.

As one steps inside the place, there is an instant change in atmosphere; its lowly-lit lights and misty cool temperature being a total contrast from outside's glaring afternoon sunshine. Tea is offered, a change in robes available, and a very calming silence that carries out a very soft, almost silvery, eastern music gives a soothing effect. The 45-minutes hydromassage session puts you in a special tub designed to accommodate the contour of the body; the water temperature is at around 26-degree water; it has buttons to program the treatment. A choice of essential oil and bath salts, and you're on. I was still a skeptic at that point. My idea of a massage is a full-on application of pressure that can only come from strong hands and fingers, what better ways can really unknot those tension balls but that? Water can't do that, or can it? But after a few minutes of the underwater pressure and different body-point stimulation from the water, I started to feel some tension released. Accompanied with a light head massage from the therapist, I now think that I fell into lull and half dosed off. I do not know how three quarters of an hour can go by that quickly with me just laying there and without feeling restless and bored. I suppose it was that good.

I think it was Char who said that after 45 minutes in the water, I'd look like a prune, all wrinkly and soft. Ha ha! That was not the case darling. There was a a full-body after-treatment lotion application, and that felt (and smelled) wonderful as well. Feels great to occasionally be pampered. I had such a good sleep that night.

Super Loo

It is referred to with many a name in different parts of the world. To adopt many European countries' usage... a water closet or simply a WC... toilette if you're French or trying to be. Plain toilet for most of us, or if you choose to be more adventurous, a squat toilet perhaps. We also call it restroom as if it's a place for relaxation or pampering your bottoms (imagine aromatique candles burning, lots of magazines, a place where you could spend hours in), so which smart guy invented this term anyway? Only in the Philippines, often much to the confusion of foreigners and visitors, we call it CR, short for comfort room. We go overseas and ask for the comfort room, forgetting that it is the Filipino's local terminology. For the life of me, I have no idea of its etymology and would be curious to find out as well. Surely there are more quirky references which we do not know of, but in my limited knowledge these are what I can produce. Last but not the least in the roster, and which I believe is English in origin, the "loo" is the mose popular one that is used in my side of the world. Short, simple, and sweet, ain't it? No frills. In a recent trip to New Zealand however, the good ol' loo was beefed up a bit, giving it some kind of a superhero appeal. Have a look at the picture. I did a double take when I spied it while driving around Taupo, I made nice, trusty Andrew manoeuvre around swiftly so I could take a shot of the sign.

Now, who wouldn't be enticed to check the interiors out? :-)

Tram Story 3

In my previous two tram stories, observations on conversations and behaviours of passengers were told. In this one, the spotlight goes to the tram driver. My very simple categorisation of them - either they're nice or they're rude. The nice ones, well... the stories would be quite dry eh?... just your regular accommodating driver who answers your questions on directions, stops, tram routes politely, and who would occasionally strike up a chit chat and wish you well on your journey. End of story. There really couldn't be any more than that because their eyes and concentration have to be on the road. That leaves us with the rude ones, and boy oh boy once you meet them once, you keep on bumping into them again!

The two recent rude driver incidents that irked me the most happened a week apart from each other, which got me into serious thinking of writing YarraTrams to complain. Perhaps nothing worse could start one's morning off than missing his transport, be it a bus, a train, or a tram. In the two instances I refer to, I didn't miss my tram, but I was deliberately left behind! The first incident, running towards the stop while the tram was approaching, complete in stilettos and running against the blowing cold, early morning Melbourne wind, I caught a glimpse of the driver's face and she caught a glimpse of the running figure. Our eyes met, only for a second. I continued running while it continues to the stop. I got to the end of the tram as its doors were closing. So I pressed the button again for the door to open. It did not. I pressed it again, nothing... and then the lights turned green and so the tram driver drove away! Of course I was exasperated! I couldn't believe that she refused to open the door for a passenger while she was on halt anyway. Others may reason that she probably didn't know I was pressing the door button. I think otherwise. She knew I was running for that ride. She deliberately ignored the alert that some one is wanting to go on board. I could only stare in disbelief as the tram gets smaller and smaller, standing there in the freezing cold. There was a witness... an inspector, who approached me and apologised for what happened. He took down the number of the tram driver and told me that he saw what happened and that he'll speak with her when she returns. Man, if it was my personal chauffeur, I would have fired her instantly. What was in her mind? What, that I could always catch the next tram? What if I needed to go on her route? Did it give her a sense of satisfaction knowing that she had that power to shut someone off and make them miss their transport? Whatever her reasons were, it certainly did not make YarraTrams image all the better. Should I write them an infringement notice as well for failing to do their job properly, just as what they do to passengers who fail to produce a valid ticket? The second time was just this week, exactly the same thing, different tram driver though. Oh yes, I do remember their faces.

So, it's not only passengers who could be a pain in the ass. Tram drivers can be too. They need a good beating.

Tram Story 2

Trams come at a couple of minutes interval, depending on the area and the time of day. Generally on morning and evening peak hours, there are more trams at shorter time intervals, especially on routes to and fro the CBD. And so naturally, it is no surprise that in some occasions there will be what I'd call a "tram jam" (imagine several trams bumper to bumper). On each stop, there will either be railings or a slightly elevated platform. These are the "safety zones", and the length of these are about the length of one and a half trams.

On the way to work one fine morning, obviously during peak hour, we were experiencing some form of a tram jam. At one major stop where people get off for connecting trams, our tram was third on queue. We had to wait for the first two or at least the first tram to keep moving before we could move forward to the proper stop zone. A few minutes into the wait, a man who is about in his mid forties hollered in a deep booming voice for the driver to open the tram door. A tram would normally have three doors - front, middle, and back. The newer, longer trams would probably have around four. This man was close to the middle door, not near the driver at all. Therefore, his voice carried its way across the whole tram. And how could the driver answer him?... with his microphone? Duh. Of course the door didn't open for him. So once again, he impatiently repeated his request but was again ignored. And for a good reason I say! Although we were near the stop, we weren't AT the stop and we weren't AT the safety zone. At this point, I was also thinking to myself, why couldn't he just walk towards the front and speak to the driver quietly instead of having his shouting spree for everyone to witness and hear? *shakes head*

Finally the trams moved, and we got to the proper stop zone and voila, the doors opened. People piled out including mr. impatient. You'd think it's the end of it eh, but no, he proceeded to the head of the tram and hurled insults at the driver. He started with angrily accosting him with why he didn't open the tram door. The tram driver explained that we weren't at the safety zone and it is regulation that the doors are kept shut until we reach the proper zone. Obviously not contented with the explanation and still seething from not having his orders heeded, he continued lambasting the driver with profanity, calling him a clown and all sorts of name. For goodness's sake, this guy just doesn't have a brain! If he was in such a hurry as his earlier manners and agitation for waiting suggested, he should have gone off quickly as soon as he got off the tram. But no, as if barking out abuses at the tram driver would do him any good and would make him right. It was pretty obvious to every witness in the tram that he is out of his mind and totally unreasonable. It was dangerous for the tram doors to open at the incorrect area as people getting off would find themselves in the middle of the road. Sad to say, some people just can't get this simple idea into their head.

Tram drivers don't have it easy too. Whilst many passengers are polite and would say thank you when they get on and off the tram, there are still those who treat them like a piece of garbage, and I'm serious. It's as if these people think that they are their personal chauffeurs to always say "aye sir!" And these drivers usually just take it, they can't get off the tram to defend themselves or fight back, right? I'm not suggesting though that all tram drivers are commendable, for there are some whom I'd like to give a piece of my mind to as well (but let's save that story for next time).

Ignorance of the law is no excuse. In this case, ignorance of the driver's responsibilities to keep passengers safe is no excuse for a passenger's bad behaviour. Name-calling is even worse. For such a petty thing, tempers flared. What more if it's something big?

Tram Story 1

As usual, people piling into trams late in the afternoon... your young (and old) professionals, university students, parents with their school-age youngsters, (occasionally) some hippies and (one time too many) psychos, and [the others] as I would lazily categorise them. And per usual, whenever I get a seat I prefer one not by the window just for ease of getting out; you would imagine how crammed this "popular" mode of transport can get as more people push their way in at each stop.

I usually keep to myself. Of course there will be those who are the chatty type and try to strike a conversation, and that's alright. But generally, I just like to observe... or listen. No kidding, there are some "interesting" conversations one could overhear in his time travelling. "Interesting" encompasses a wide range of meaning, mind you, unpleasant being one of them. But for now, let's leave those at that.

What boggled my mind yesterday was the contradiction of what would commonly be good manners and right conduct. A mother and her young son (6-years old at maximum I would guess) hopped on board. The mom sat beside me while the boy sat across her. She gave him a bickie, he happily munched on it. First stop, he finished his food and started yapping (good manneredly of course). Second stop, she gave him another bickie... perhaps to shut him up... hee-hee! Third stop, more people piled in, including a lady probably in her 50s... but she has white hair. The young boy promptly stood up and offered his seat to her! Good on him, I couldn't help but smile. In a foreign language which I could understand, he happily seeked for his mom's approval saying: "I did the right thing eh? I offered my seat to an old person!" At this point I was amused, not with his action which I admire, but with his definition of an old person (I'm sure it's the white hair). All of a sudden the mom retorted: "Why did you have to do that?! Now you have to stand." She is obviously annoyed, and this for sure befuddled the young mind of this very well-mannered boy.

And I thought... what a parent. Wasn't she cranky! Instead of praising her child for being a gentleman, she disapproved of his good manners. Sometimes children make more sense than adults, really. I've seen many instances when an old person is ignored and left staggering in a moving tram, or passengers avoiding eye contact with an elderly or pregnant woman just so they won't have to offer their seats. Incredulous!

For the mom, shame on her. She needs to be educated by a small child.