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Friday, February 04, 2011

If something around here smells fishy, it's probably my feet...

Doctor Fish
After spending a morning at Crawley Hospital, chatting to people with neuropathy, what better way to spend your lunch break than by dipping your toes into shark-infested waters and being attacked by a shoal of piranhas...

Putting my foot in it.
I like to think of them as the soles of my feet.

But before anyone accuses me of getting my kicks by stamping on sticklebacks, I should point out that this is actually the brave new world of fish-based pedicures. And it's not as cruel as it looks. At least, not for the fish. Frankly, they're loving it. There's a steady stream of them flooding over here from Eastern Europe in search of a foot in the British job market and a leg up to a better life. And if that means sucking my toes for ten quid, then so be it.

I must admit, when I arrived at Crawley Hospital first thing yesterday morning, I didn't expect to be gnawed by a fish within four hours, but that's what happens when you get chatting to a receptionist who pulls out her iPhone and shows you nude photos of her legs. Within five minutes of walking through the door, she'd convinced me that my life wouldn't be complete until I'd had my feet chewed by Crawley's answer to Jaws.

Dr SpaFishSo having waved goodbye to my last patient of the morning, I headed down the road to Dr SpaFish, a walk-in pedicure therapy centre in the nearby shopping mall. I was expecting the plaice to be stuffed to the gills with old trouts or men with mullets, but as it turned out, I was the sole person there. It costs £10 for 15 minutes of minnow-munching, which I thought was pretty good. Let's face it, there must be some sharks in the industry, so it's nice to know that the good Dr SpaFish isn't one of them. Before letting you near the tanks, they also make you sign a declaration stating that you're not HIV positive. Because you deafinitely don't want to give the herring AIDS.

Ahem.

Anyway, those of a nervous disposition who don't like the idea of killer fish swarming towards my gnarly old feet like flies to a corpse, should look away now...


The little ankle-biters really get under your feet. They're actually called Garra Rufa, and according to the leaflet I picked up at the door, the fish "stimulate acupuncture points" and "help to regulate the nervous system". Which is what you might call 'cod science'. Or a load of pollocks.

What they really do is eat away your dead skin, and it's a surprisingly pleasant experience. If you can get over the psychological terror of being eaten alive. It gives you the kind of tingling, pins & needles sensation that will be familiar to anyone with bad circulation or a vibrating bed. And it's actually very soothing. I wanted to put my rough old hands in, but sadly it's strictly feet only. Apparently the fish don't like battered fingers.

7 comments:

Phil's Mum said...

So are you walking on air today?

Phil said...

Either air or fish guts.

Dave said...

I refuse to be drawn into any fish-related puns.  Not even for the hallibut.

Phil said...

Don't, Dave, you're giving me a haddock.

Jon the Bass-ist said...

Are those Sturgeons medically trained?

Phil said...

If not, they're likely to flounder.

A Passer-by said...

You seem to be a dab hand and finding an op-perch-tuna-ty to make a pun!