Here's the rub ... treatment rooms at Lella Hammam are lined entirely in tiles.
Jo Hegerty finds a Moroccan-style bathhouse on the Gold Coast where soaking and socialising go hand in mitt.
The magic carpet soars high, slowly spiralling closer to the point where the sea meets the city. Glistening sands compete with shimmering skyscrapers bright enough to burn your eyes. The carpet descends, moving into the shadows of the giant matchsticks and we're blinded and chilled by the sudden lack of shine. Without a noise, the carpet comes to rest by a simple doorway on a busy road. We enter.
Aladdin would know how it feels to find a place like this. Actually, being a grimy street urchin, Aladdin could definitely use its services. It's a Moroccan-style bathhouse, right here on the Gold Coast.
From the moment we enter Lella Hammam, it's clear that we're in for a unique experience. The owner, Nina el Basha, is bustling around with a silver censer, billowing a trail of frankincense smoke as she ushers us towards ornate sofas to sip lemon myrtle tea while the hammam is prepared.
Two tiny girls escort us into a small, warm room lined entirely in blue and green tiles. Stripped down to nothing but paper G-strings, my mother and I lie down on raised tile beds and prepare to shed our skins like snakes.
First we are doused with hot water. The girls use beaten copper bowls and collect the water from beneath a Moroccan-style cistern. Water splashes, the copper clanks and a citrus smell fills the hammam - I close my eyes and think of .
On the trolley by my feet are the ingredients for our Royal Hammam experience - bowls of what look like paprika, cumin and olive oil. I wonder if we're about to be marinated but the tiled slab is warm and someone is rubbing crushed rose petals into my face so I care not.
We are marinated but it's with henna and India clay rather than the spices for a chicken tagine. I'm later told this softens the skin, which is a good thing considering the slightly vicious and heart palpitating scrub that follows.
My sweet, diminutive girl pulls on an exfoliating mitt that may as well be made of steel wool and gets to work seeking the diamond beneath my rough exterior.
She leaves no skin cell un-scrubbed - arms legs, belly, toes, nipples, decolletage, even my eyelids are given a quick rub, although not with the mitt and certainly not with the force she applies to my back.
I wouldn't say the scrub was painful, the girls move too fast for it to hurt, but as I'm washed with black soap, a sludgy olive-oil derivative, every part of my body tingles like sherbet on the tongue. It's hugely invigorating and I feel like I could get up and dance around the room. Fortunately for everyone, the application of soothing Moroccan clay to my face, body and hair calms me down and I'm left for a while to absorb its healing properties.
The attendant returns to wash my hair. Having a shower is going to seem like such a chore after this, I think. My girl then dries me, covers me from head to toe in virgin argan oil, wraps me in a robe and deposits me on the sofa with a cup of tea.
Glowing and a little bit dazed, my mother and I are soon joined by el Basha and we chat about her life since she moved to Australia from Dubai eight years ago. She tells us that she spent three months at a Moroccan hammam learning the techniques before opening her Gold Coast version.
Mum decides to get her eyebrows threaded and we all move into the next room where Lee works her magic with a piece of cotton thread held in her teeth and worked between her fingers. More women join us and, as Mum's eyebrows take shape, we talk about men, beauty treatments and the things we've stolen from airlines. In Arabic countries, hammams are for socialising as much as cleansing and it strikes me that we're getting the full experience.
When we finally feel ready to leave, more than three hours after arriving, the sun is bouncing off glass monoliths, shiny cars and even shinier people. The Gold Coast is shimmering all around us but we're smug in the knowledge that we have found a true gem among all the bling.
The writer was a guest of Lella Hammam.
Trip notes
Getting there: Weekend flights from Sydney to the Gold Coast are priced from $159 with Jetstar or $169 with Virgin Blue with luggage. See webjet.com.au.
While there: Lella Hammam Moroccan Bath & Spa occupies a tiny space beneath the twin towers of the Meriton Apartments, 2669 Gold Coast Highway, Broadbeach.
The 90-minute Royal Hammam treatment costs $160 or $260 for couples. Phone 07 5592 1267, see lellahammam.com.au.
Where to stay: The Meriton Apartments are new and stylish, close to the beach and situated at the quieter end of the Gold Coast. Prices start at $120 a night. See meritonapartments.com.au.
Source: The Sun-Herald
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