The best part about this place is the silence policy. If I had had to listen to the man who was reading (like, painfully slowly...was he committing every word to memory?) each advertisement in Vélo magazine talk to his girlfriend (about what? his trapezius?), I would have felt even more ridiculous about spending $50 to sit in a bath and then lie on a long gray beanbag chair.
This is the epitome of a lifestyle that I neither understand nor desire. As a one-off, however, it was very nice to visit all the hot stations and work my body into convulsive sweats. When I was in college, my sports team would activate the sauna by pouring Powerade on the rocks. This was a more grownup (?) version of the same thing.
I was able to enjoy to "no stress" room by imagining how much money I would be paid to compose the next popular spa symphony. I think a few hours with a Korg just placing my fingers on different keys every 30 seconds or so, and I'd have my hit. And then I'd spend hours inhaling eucalyptus steam in Montreal.