We’ve been blogging as a Spa Spy team now for ten years, but now we’ve decided to go solo. So this is me, your Spa Spy blogger, logging on.
The plan is to give you some idea of what a Spa Spy’s life is like, going behind the scenes of some of our spa reviews - not dishing the dirt exactly, but talking about the small stuff that matters.
Like now, writing this at Champneys Tring for example: on my own, wishing I’d bought an ebook to dinner instead of a chunky novel, the seams of which are now filling with grated beetroot…
We go to all these amazing places and meet some pretty unusual people, so I’ll be sharing this and other spa news – please feel free to get in touch and share your ideas and stories too.
About me – I am a journalist with 20 years under my belt, I’ve worked on Elle, Red and various beauty and travel sections in magazines and newspapers. I am being dragged by gravity, time and other unstoppable forces towards middle age, although I feel 23 (I find removing my specs – I’m short-sighted – helps maintain this lovely, blurry illusion). Having to review anti-aging facials couldn’t have come at a better time – now let’s see if they really work.
While “swanning about being a media luvvie”, I’ve also raised two lovely, joyous (ahem) children. We all lived in London until recently, when we decided to move out to the countryside, much to the horror of the now teens – probably should have done it when they were wide-eyed and innocent.
I try and do what Londoners think of as ‘country things’: making jam, keeping chickens, long walks and pub lunches, basically acting like I’m on one long holiday, while teens work hard at school so they can get jobs that enable them to afford to move back to the exciting city. Win, win.
I’m married to a man who thinks my job is ridiculous, therefore it is my mission to turn him from a cynic into a metrosexual spa man – just casually pointing out that Bond was filmed at Stoke Park which also has a very nice spa should he fancy it… I can see the eye-rolling already.
Despite a decent education, I have a weakness for trashy TV and ridiculously aspirational blogs – especially the hilarious GOOP, although my husband thinks I’m a poorer and more gullible version of GP. I’ll leave that up to you to decide.
Right now I have to abandon the errant salad and head for the spa, phone camera at the ready to record any spa crimes and misdemeanours, or indeed the delights – then back to the room to do a Carrie Bradshaw impression, minus the Tutu and Manolos, with some winsome laptop musings.
After which I’m looking forward to one of the many highlights of the job – sleeping star-shaped and without earplugs (My Adored sounds like Al Green’s horn section tuning up) in my own king sized luxury bed.
Of course, the irony being that I won’t sleep a wink...