I finally did something constructive with my bank holiday weekend, aside from scrubbing my kitchen and bathroom floors until my arms ached. OH YES - I cleaned! No,... aside from that, I went to 'floatworks' and used the voucher I was given for Christmas. It was about time.
Basically it's a floatation tank experience - a 45 minute slot in a big plastic podule that looks like something Mulder might have discovered when investigating a government conspiracy somewhere beneath
the Navajo desert in the X Files. It's filled with 700lbs of salt, which means that when you step inside (completely starkers, mind) you just float. Well, not straight away. Obviously it's not so strong that it takes one foot and lets you hover upright on the water Jesus style, but once you're on your back, legs and arms in a star shape, the lid comes down like a sealer on a tupperware lunch box and you float. Just like that.
Of course, there was the obligatory pan pipe music for the first 10 minutes, for relaxation purposes. I never was too sure about that, though. You know the type, you hear it in those weird hippy book shops, usually accompanied by the smell of incense and a knowing smile from a bloke with a beard so long he could actually carpet the shop with it if he wasn't so stoned that he couldn't even move. But anyway, before I could imagine the witches and warlocks and talking cats on broomsticks it faded, the lights went out, and I drifted deep into an almost dream-like state, feeling my mind wander far away from the stresses of London. (And cats on broomsticks).
It was bloody brilliant actually - and definitely a well-deserved, relaxing end to a hectic weekend of... well,... doing sod all, really. It's quite weird how your mind just switches off without you actually falling asleep, but it's so peaceful and serene. You're in your own locked room too, with a shower of course - (you'll come out as crusty as a French baguette, thanks to all the salt that sticks to your body) - so it's a really personal experience and I'll definitely be doing it again. Well, it's a good diversion from cleaning my flat, at least!
-Becky Wicks
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