I suppose the “limo” is what most people associate with the spas of the Mar Menor – the mud! I was really looking forward to getting dirty and rolling around in the stuff. We chose Thalassoreumotológico, where for 3 hours and just 45 euros each we got to play in the pools, have a “limo corporal” and a “hidromasaje marino”. This will save you money and reduce the difficulty of deciding which treatments to have. The best bet is to go for a package of treatments – a “programa”. And of course there’s the “Vinoterapia”, where for the price of 20 good bottles of Casa de la Ermita, you can have a bath in wine. Or why not try “Extracto de Caviar” or “Ceremonia Gold” (they really do use gold leaf!). Or for those of you with a larger budget and who like to wear your chocolate, rather than eat it, you can have a “Chocolat Massage”. Some gems include: masaje drenante linfático, hidrocinesiterapia and sustrato vegetal.
#Nativa spa vinoterapia download
You can download a brochure of therapies, which runs to 8 or so pages of closely typed weird sounding torture treatments. Or have a treatment in one of the 40 individual rooms for beauty, aesthetic and physiotherapy programmes. You can enjoy the “marine circuit” with wet and dry saunas, bithermal showers, the ice cave or the relaxation pool. They have 34✬ seawater pools with different underwater massages, jacuzzis, waterbeds, cascades, etc. Their website really doesn’t do justice to their location and facilities. I chose the Thalasso Centre next to the Thalasia hotel in San Pedro Del Pinatar. So, my expectations were low and my fear level was high when I booked for myself, my mother-in-law (Helga) and my sister-in-law (Julie) to have a day at the spa. Perhaps that’s why she twisted my arms round my neck and ran repeatedly up and down my spine. And a massage in Thailand, where the tiny (yes even smaller than me!) masseuse was clearly more interested in “massaging” my husband than she was in me. I had a massage in Turkey, where the scary, hairy woman tried to pry the flesh off my bones and drown me in soapsuds. I had a weekend break at Ragdale Hall, where the food was sparse, the treatments were regimental and the alcohol was non-existent (except for the illegal stash we kept on the outside window ledge of our room).
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