I’ve had massages around the world of varying quality. The best, in Southern India, were, I thought, unbeatable. That is until I went to Martin Parkes at The Massage Spa in Chesham. I’d say he’s now top of my world list – and I don’t have to go through Heathrow to see him.
He’s exceptionally well qualified, naturally kind and eminently professional. He is also, how shall I put it, substantial. He can be as light in his touch as a butterfly but as weighty as a sumo wrestler where muscles and joints cry out for relief.
He also looks after a client’s particular needs. Knowing that I have trouble breathing when prone, for example, he arranges for eucalyptus oil to be diffused in the room.
I’ve been going regularly to Martin for the last three years. I opt for 90 minute sessions which gives him time to attend to all my various aches and pains and to prevent others.
Now in my eighties I attribute my longevity and nimbleness to my wife’s great care and Martin’s supreme skills.