Boar’s Head Spa Review: A Man’s Experience

I was delighted to finally try a Charlottesville spa last week. My first spa experience was in Hua-Hin, Thailand, at the ultra-lux spa resort, Chiva Som. Thailand’s trophy spa consistently ranks in the top 10-15 spas in the world. My day there was unique and the setting was absolutely beautiful. From Thailand I ventured into mainland China during the spa craze that hit Beijing about two years ago. You can’t throw a stone in that city anymore without breaking a spa window.

And now I can add Charlottesville to my list of global spa pursuits. To be quite honest, my visit at Boar’s Head Spa trumps all of my other experiences. Yes that’s right, we have our own little Chiva Som down 250, and I will tell you why.

I thought I would do a men’s review of a spa in cville and be very macho about it…you know, a sports massage followed by a mens manicure and a sports facial. Something along those lines. What I went for instead was the completely opposite experience, one where I would not be looking at the clock every minute as much as the inside of my eye lids while on cloud nine. And what better way to do that than spend three hours at Boar’s Head experiencing the “Monticello Dreams” treatment with my tour guide George.

More About George
George is part Native American and has taken a great interest in herbs and natural medicine from a very early age. My Dreams experience was as educational as it was relaxing. He explained in great detail every ingredient in every product used in the Monticello Dreams package. Did I mention George and his wife make all of the Monticello Dreams products from scratch at their home in Nelson County under the Sweet Melissa’s brand name? He seemed to be my week’s Superman, a combination of masseur, therapist and teacher.

Men Are Like Lost Puppies in a Spa
The most difficult part of my day was trying to relax, an oxymoron at any spa. The biggest reason for this was not the environment itself, but the lack of explicit instructions and subsequent details of what I would be doing.

Being the only man at a spa is a little uncomfortable, even more so when you are only man wearing a cotton towel with nothing underneath. Waiting in the lovely quiet room, I didn’t know what to do…Did I misunderstand where I was supposed to be? Did someone already come for me, but missed me because I was in the men’s locker room at that precise moment? All these questions raced through my head.

And so I went and peeked my head through the door to the main entrance to ask, and when I saw the receptionist was busy taking spa reservations and checking in new clients, I freaked and ran back to the quiet room. What I needed, was what every man needs: a GPS with turn-by-turn instructions of where and when I should go somewhere.

I think any man spending hours in a spa going from one treatment to the next should have a map. Our lives are already run by schedules and emails all organized on a Blackberry. Suddenly I found myself without one. Lucky for me I was saved. My GPS came in the form of George, our aforementioned spa expert.

He greeted me with a warm supportive smile and promptly advised me to load up on water as it was going to be a “cleansing day”. With a glass of water in hand he led me to the last room down the hallway adjacent to the quiet room. Before me lay the first step of the Monticello Dreams experience…

Hydrotherapy Soak
I am sure all of you were huge fans of bubble baths in your youth. I was, and still am, and had the opportunity to relive a five-year old moment that day. I found myself in a large bathroom with an iPod-inspired bathtub in the middle. George began explaining that the bath water contained goat milk, lavender, lemon peel and rosemary, topped off with a special herbal tea blend. George instructed me to push the timer button (set for 20 min) on the side of the tub as soon as I got in, and that would activate more aqua jets than a person could possibly handle. Before he left me in my solace, he made a point to show me, as he proceeded to do for the rest of the morning, exactly where I could hang my bathrobe and place my shoes.

In my birthday suit, I submerged myself in a liquid concoction I once thought was only used to prepare a sous-vide chicken. Now I was the chicken; and for the first time ever, a chicken would enjoy this bath. I was told my pores would open up and blood would flow to my skin’s surface. I can’t tell you if those two things happened, but it was extremely comfortable lying in a tub. Comfort soon turned to anxiety….What the hell was I doing in a tub? How long would I lie there? Could I even relax or would I think about business the whole time?

I felt as if I was “under pressure, falling down on me”, trying to relax. I did manage to pass the time by taking in all the rooms’ features in exquisite detail. I felt as if I was in an old country home. To my right was a wood-slat window looking out onto the perfectly manicured green lawn bordering a big pond. I didn’t mind that the morning gardening crew were twenty feet away from the window and could possibly see me in a bubbly tub. I just might have been relaxed after all. My gaze turned to the front and I saw a fancy shower head mounted to the wall, next to a glass-doored shower. I never asked for an explanation about that shower head, but I noticed it had a large temperature gauge next to the handle to let its next user know exactly how many degrees Fahrenheit the water temperature was. Then I got to thinking about how much such a fixture would cost, if it was made in Switzerland, France or even China; and if it breaks often or is of such high spa-like quality that it will stand the test of time. No matter how many bubbles blew past my eyes, business would not leave my head.

Exfoliating Body Wrap
As soon as the timer rang and I was dressed, George escorted me to the next room. Much smaller than the large bathroom I came from, this was essentially a massage room. The second part of my spa treatment was the nourishing, exfoliating body wrap. I had been transformed from sous-vide chicken to a grape-leaf wrapped salmon in a smoker. I thought this would be a an intensive body scrub with skin flakes flying everywhere and I would be screaming for my mommy. But this wasn’t the case at all. With nothing but a large towel covering my special parts, George rubbed a special mixture of bentonite clay, honey and kelp granules, green tea and fennel seed powder all over my arms, legs, chest and back. Like a mummy, I was then wrapped in a very tight linen cloth with a wool blanket placed upon me. George informed me the heat would aid the exfoliation process. When he left the room I felt a little helpless wrapped up under a blanket, but soon enough I found myself in a deep sleep playing in the very dreams this treatment was named after. If George had gone to lunch and somehow forgotten me, I would have been none the wiser or really cared. But he did return, this time with many a hot towel used to rub the exfoliating blend off of my body. From there I went straight to the men’s locker room for a hot shower to remove any residual traces of the product. The day was almost over and my favorite part of any spa visit was about to begin.

Dreams Massage
Having read the Dreams Massage description in the quiet room, I expected an oil-based massage like the one I had once received at Chiva Som (not my favorite). Instead, George asked me what I preferred. I told him of my back problems and how I was in the beginning of a Cross Fit workout regimen (body completely sore). To my surprise and good fortune, George turned out to be very knowledgeable with sports and rehabilitative massage. He assured me he would watch out for my slipped disk which quickly put me at ease. What happened for the next 60 minutes was deep tissue bliss accented by undertones of pain (the good kind). George managed to find tiny muscles in my upper back that I had never heard of (he explained every one of them, their purpose, and which ones are used in my martial arts training). His knowledge of human anatomy was astonishing and made for a very educational massage. It was the perfect ending to the longest morning I have had in years.

Afterthought
I think every man should plan at least one of these types of treatments a month. True relaxation is a difficult feat, and Boar’s Head made it easy, albeit it took me 45 minutes to mentally get there. My next visit will surely be their Thai massage. I think most men have some apprehension about going to a spa. Besides the feminine connotation that comes about from spending anything more than a fleeting second at a spa, there are a bunch of “what if” questions:

What if a dude gives me a massage?
What if a girl gives me a massage and I become aroused?
What if everyone stares at me because I am the only guy?

Regardless of your question, I think everyone at Boar’s Head is there to make sure you are comfortable.  So if you have a question, just whisper it in one of the professional staff’s ears…I am sure they have dealt with countless situations like these before.

And ladies, if your boyfriend’s, fiancée’s or husband’s birthday is coming up, consider this experience just as good, if not better, than other present. We might go in kicking and screaming, but we guarantee we will brag about you for days, weeks and then months on end after being pampered like this.

[thumbnail from BadrNaseem on Flickr]
[main pic from ldcross on Flickr]