French dressing

You are perhaps never more vulnerable than when having a massage in a foreign language.  I've just got back from a Japanese-sounding spa in the Laurentians where I underwent two treatments. Like most encounters with the service industry in Quebec you are better off en francais (it is the official language for goodness sake) . Armed only with poor language skills, things can get tricky. Especially when I am naked and lying under a thin towel. What is she saying? She's going to do what?
She tells me something and goes out of the room and I'm not sure if I should remain under the towel, get up or shower. I opt for lying still and when she returns I think I have done the right thing.
I'm happy though as I discover this spa, despite the tinkly music, Japanese statues and rule of silence, sells coffee. All I need is a bacon butty and I'm in spa heaven, even in French.


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