A Steamy affair

Last weekend, as a belated birthday treat my wife booked us into a spa hotel. One of those where your room is your own private spa, complete with your own private sauna and steam room.  Although my birthday was back in May, it couldn't of come at a better time; my wife's a teacher so is struggling with September-blues, and I have taken it upon myself to 'project manage' redecoration of the living room, a job I'm taking very seriously.  As a matter of fact, we're currently on our fourth lot of flooring samples. We are also eagerly awaiting a letter from the Fertility clinic with our first appointment, so needless to say, the idea of a night away from all things school, flooring and baby related seemed like bliss. 

On Saturday morning, we eagerly packed our bags complete with a couple of bottles of Chateauneuf du pap, a corkscrew and two plastic red wine glasses we'd conveniently stored away in the 'top cupboard' being fairly seasoned hotel-wine-drinkers now and embarked on our three-hour car journey to the spa. Upon arrival the room was everything we needed it to be: sauna, steam room, rainforest shower, huge bed, bath with a TV and a private terrace, complete with sun-loungers and a fire pit.  Whilst my wife was taking pictures of the room, undisturbed (something she's always done and I've never understood, perhaps so she can put the room back exactly as we found it after I've torn through it with my trail of discarded converse and phone charges), I found myself crouching down on my hands and knees pondering whether the floor in the room was laminate or vinyl - either way, I'd not considered light oak until this moment and now knew I was going to have to order some more samples!

After satisfying my curiosity - it was definitely laminate and samples were now ordered to arrive in 2-4 working days - my wife suggested our time frame for the rest of the afternoon: Sauna (15 minutes), steam room (20 minutes), cold shower, rinse and repeat, four rounds.  It somehow reminded me of the HIIT sessions we do with the personal trainer - I was just happy she didn't suggest we finish it of with a 2000m row. On the final round of sauna-steam-repeat my wife suggested, for the grand finale (with the body scrub she had bought from the front desk), we could hop into the shower and scrub off the 'layers of dead skin we're bound to have'.  By this point, my skin was itching with all the heat/steam and the thought of a course sugary substance being rubbed into my back was the most exciting thing I'd heard since Howdens announced a flash-sale on oak doors the week before.  I eagerly followed her out of the steam room and into the shower for, what was, 15 minutes of pure exfoliating-bliss! 

This is the life, I thought as I turned the shower off, this is relaxing, now we can get dressed, crack the Chateau and have a glass on the terrace before we go down for Din.... 

...alarms blasting. Banging on the door. I panic. I'm naked. clearly there was a fire and we'd not heard the alarm.  Oh good god! Was that the fire brigade?  Were they about to bash down the the door and I had no clothes on?

 I quickly grabbed a robe and went out in the room as my wife ran towards the door.  I could barely see a thing, our room was full of smoke.  Oh my god - the spa must be on fire! I was frantically looking for my bra.  If we had to run, my unrestrained breasts would surely be a hindrance.  

My wife opened the door and I heard shouting, it was so hot, I thought.  I'm passing out, it must be smoke ... it is soo hot in here ...

The next thing I felt was cold water. I opened my eyes and saw my wife's face. Why did she look so mad? Am I alive? Are we in the hospital? Did everyone make it out? Is my mother here? I asked. 

No. She said. We're in the room and YOU LEFT THE STEAM ROOM DOOR OPEN FOR 15 SOLID MINUTES!

... oops.