F Is For Feet, Fish and Flashbacks


With the huge delay between this and our E date, I was very excited to be back spending some quality time with the Boyfriend. I’d been very poorly before this, so a bit of TLC and down time was just what I needed.

Mum bought us the voucher for this one, and though we’d had them for ages, between the Boyfriend’s shifts and my music commitments, we hadn’t been able to find a weekend together. Finally, we got the opportunity, and like I said, it was just in time.

We were both a little apprehensive about redeeming the vouchers. I’m not much of a one for beauty treatments of any variety, and though the Boyfriend has his metrosexual moments, he’s not exactly the sort to be concerned about his appearance. But it wasn’t the personal space invasion that was worrying me this time (I don’t like being touched by other people I don’t know) because it wouldn’t be a person touching me. It would be several tiny fish.

I’d seen videos of the Garra Rufa fish treatment on Youtube (no, I don’t know how I got onto it) before it became widely known here. It horrified me back then, and time hadn’t reduced any of that horror. But, I live by the principal that you should generally give things a good try, especially when someone else paid for it, so on the Boyfriend’s prompt of: ‘I have a weekend off, phone that fish place.’ I booked us in for the treatment. I knew the Boyfriend was as apprehensive as me when he started flapping about what socks would generate the least fluff around his toes and which shoes would be best to wear.

The Tootsies foot spa was a very classy sort of place, and after accidentally walking right past it, we made our way inside. After completing a quick questionnaire about our general health, we were introduced to our tank of fish. As soon as we even got close, the ravenous little things were clamouring at the surface of the water for a taste of our delicious dead skin.

We were given a wipe to clean our feet before immersing them. And I’ll freely adm

it we both held our feet above the water with identical looks of terror on our faces before biting the bullet and putting them in.

It was as feeling unlike anything I have ever experienced before. If you closed your eyes, you could almost convince yourself it was a particularly vicious and small jacuzzi. But then a fishy body would writhe against your ankle, a tail flick into the soft arch of your foot and the illusion was shattered. But you did get used to it after a while. We had a fifteen minute session, and about halfway through we had both stopped laughing and flinching sufficiently to have a conversation.

And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was reasonably priced, and my feet felt amazing afterwards. I think it was a tenner for 15 minutes. I’ve spent more than that on files and foot creams in my time, and quite apart from the effort that you have to expend to get any sort of result, the result was never anywhere near what those ravenous little fish achieved.

Afterward, we went to Costa’s coffee, the site of our very first date over five years ago now. Back when we were very much young, naive, and very very wet (it was torrential rain on our first date, and we didn’t have the luxury of a car). It was nice to think about how far we’ve come. We have our ups and downs, but sitting across from the Boyfriend it was nice to know that I still felt the same way about him as I did back then.

Feeling thoroughly relaxed (and overfull of hot chocolate and coffee) we enjoyed the walk back to our car on our very happy feet.

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