We’ll come clean – our last trip to a hamam was disastrous. It involved a cavernous room in Morocco, where a very old, voluminous woman wearing nothing but a pair of grey knickers made us lie on the stone floor (just her plump knees for a pillow) and rubbed us raw with a balled-up flannel. The experience was a little too traditional for our tastes, so we put hamams firmly in the ‘been there, done that’ category. As far as we’re concerned, being washed by a stranger should only happen when you’re moments old, or approaching decrepitude.
In the time of the Ottoman Empire, the hamam, or Turkish bath, was a public place where you could go to steam, bathe and get a scrub down, usually for a pittance. Open to both genders – separately of course – across the social strata, they were hugely popular, and, were often the only means of socialising for women of the time. In fact, it played such a crucial role in their lives that Ottoman women who didn’t receive an allowance from their husbands to go to the hamam were considered to have grounds for divorce.
Still popular in Morocco and Turkey, hamams are supposed to be, if not out-and-out luxury, then certainly one of life’s little treats. So when we heard about a new contemporary-style hamam recently opened in town, we found ourselves tempted to give it another whirl, lured by the promise of sweet-scented products and baby soft skin.
Abu Dhabi’s hamam is indeed an altogether more private and luxurious affair than tradition dictates, and there certainly wasn’t a grubby flannel in sight. Instead, the small hamam room was sparkling clean and comfortable, with a large treatment table in the middle. At first, as we lay there with nothing but a fog of steam and a disposable thong to protect our modesty, we felt more than a little exposed. Fortunately, the therapist Sharifa was chatty, warm and professional. You need someone to be supremely reassuring if you’re going to spend two hours with them in a state of undress, and Sharifa fit the bill, kindly behaving as though we still had some dignity left despite the transparent pants.
The treatment began with an all-over wash using eucalyptus black soap, which is customary in old-style hamams. Submitting to having our limbs picked up and gently soaped, we felt incredibly infantilised, but (please don’t judge us) it soon became enjoyable and soothing. After a quick rinse-off, Sharifa got to work with an exfoliating mitt. She didn’t leave an inch of our body unscrubbed, and left behind a truly revolting amount of sloughed skin. The grey strings lay around our frame like a police chalk outline – gross, yes, but we were left feeling as smooth as a peeled lychee, and cleaner than ever before. Next up we had soft ghassul clay smoothed over our skin and hair, and were left to wallow in it for 15 minutes, feeling a ridiculous kind of five-year-old satisfaction at being muddy from head to toe.
After another hose-down, we were treated to the salon’s signature massage, a blend of Swedish, Thai and Balinese techniques. Since our muscles were already loosened from the steam, it felt wonderful. We left smelling delicious, feeling giddy from all the pampering and with our faith in the hamam firmly restored.
Luxury Hamam Ritual Dhs425 for two hours. Sisters Beauty Lounge, Villa 1, Khalifa Bin Shakhbout Street (02 222 2501).
