"What you seek is seeking you. We have stocked the steam room, drawn the warm bath, lit the salt lamps. The hot stones are heated to ninety-eight degrees, which is, you may notice, the temperature of you."
A small hammam, garden, and stillness-house on a quiet street, in the manner of the old caravanserais. Massage, steam, hot stones, herbal tea. Cell phones go in a drawer. Shoes go by the door. The rest is between you and yourself.
The reed flute is cut from the reed bed, dear guest, and from that first cut it sings. It does not sing because it is broken. It sings because it is broken — because the wound in its side is also the place the breath passes through. We say this not to make poetry of pain, but because it is, plainly, the principle of the house.
You will arrive tired. You will arrive carrying. You will perhaps arrive rolling something over and over in your head that will not roll itself smooth. We have known this. We have built the rooms for it.
The hot bath is one hundred and four degrees. The steam room is cedar and eucalyptus. The garden is small and full of bees that the keeper has trained, more or less, to ignore the guests. The teas are blended on Tuesdays, and the bread, on Wednesdays. The massage table is heated. The robe is yours for the duration. The silence is yours forever.
If you cry while the stones are warm on your back, no one will mention it. The wound, after all, is the place where the light enters you. We are simply the room around it.
All treatments include the hammam, the garden, a robe, a tea, and as much silence as you would like to take with you. Tip is included; gratuity boxes have been removed; everyone here is paid a living wage and we will not pretend otherwise.
Always available, never asked for. Three blends — a calming, an awakening, and a third we will not describe. Drink as much as you like. Take a tin home if it suits you.
Baked by the proprietor's husband, who is the better cook of the two and has stopped pretending otherwise. Served in the garden between treatments. Honey from the bees out back.
The most popular of the three. We do not require it. We simply make it abundantly available. Most guests find more of it than they expected.
"I came in carrying. I left lighter. I cannot tell you what was put down — only that it was, and that the woman who took it from me did not seem surprised at the weight."
"The hammam alone is worth the train ride. The proprietor reads people the way some folks read the weather: without fuss, with accuracy, and without making a show of either."
"I asked her, on my way out, what the third tea was. She said: 'the one you didn't know you were thirsty for.' I have thought about it most days since."
"I do not believe in this sort of thing. I do, however, sleep better the nights I leave here, and that is a fact I have stopped arguing with."
Same-day bookings welcome when we have space; weekends should be reserved a week ahead. If the time you want is taken, write to us anyway — we keep a small list, and the universe is, occasionally, generous.