The Spa at Dolphin Square Reviewed

MISHAPS are my forte. My mind is akin to a steel trap; only perhaps one that has been left out so long it’s now rusted shut.

It’s an odd feeling – it shouldn’t feel good, as in essence, it’s just like having a sponge bath with a piece of sandpaper, but somehow, it does. It’s like scratching an itch that’s been tormenting you all day; a satisfying marriage of pleasure and pain.

I warn you of this before I tell you of the only fault I could possibly draw from my experience at The Dolphin Spa. It may have just been me, but the spa is nigh on impossible to find. The first piece of signage led me into the laundry room of some sort of women’s prison where I was met with a look of confusion from a young, Chinese lady clutching a bundle of dirty towels. 

When I did eventually find the spa however, I have to say, this was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had at a spa, or anywhere else for that matter. The smell of eucalyptus welcomed me into a dimly lit haven, filled with Moroccan trinkets and gold-gilded carved furnishings. The spa is enchanting, otherworldly and luxurious. I don’t know if it was the hazy atmosphere or the bewitching scents, but I felt as though I’d wandered into a dream, some other reality in which I was the Queen of Morocco and my loyal subjects only purpose in life was to wait on me hand and foot.

After changing into my swimming costume, a crisp, white robe was offered and a locker, complete with mini hanging rail and a soap to take home. No detail is forgotten at the Dolphin Spa – even the locker key had a pink silk tassle attached to it in keeping with the theme. 

I was then directed to the garden area where a traditional Moroccan hand cleanse was performed. Water is poured on the hands from a gold, embellished jug in an almost biblical-like ceremony. Another corridor led onto another mystery, where the warm, friendly lady who would be doing my treatment met me. It began in a room a little like a gas chamber – no windows or light and completely made of stone, with a fountain on the far, back wall.

Here an age-old purifying ritual is commenced, where the full body is cleansed with a eucalyptus soap that smells divine. Then an exfoliating glove is used all over to remove dead skin cells and soften skin. It’s an odd feeling – it shouldn’t feel good, as in essence, it’s just like having a sponge bath with a piece of sandpaper, but somehow, it does. It’s like scratching an itch that’s been tormenting you all day; a satisfying marriage of pleasure and pain.

After drying off, I was led to a relaxation room and served traditional Moroccan peppermint tea in another extravagant, gold, gilt pot, accompanied by a bowl of dates. When suitably relaxed, and after reading three women’s weeklies, my full-body massage began. Moisterising honey was applied to the face and mineral-rich Rhassoul lava clay from the Moroccan mountains massaged into the hair and scalp to cleanse away city grime. Finally, a signature massage completed the treatment, which leaves you feeling renewed, relaxed and refreshed.

I’m typically quite an anxious person, who frequently struggles with sleep and with relaxing in general, but this treatment even managed to break me. I couldn’t help but fall under the spell of the Dolphin Spa. Upon leaving, the real world felt gloomy and dull and I longed to return to the dream world I had left behind.

For your chance to win a treatment at The Spa at Dolphin Square, click here!

The Spa at Dolphin Square
Chichester Street
SW1V 3LX

www.dolphinsquare.co.uk

Moroccan Marjorelle 95 mins, £110