Chinese massage

On Saturday, I had late lunch with the American I had met the night before, tied on my rollerblades and headed for Ditan Park. After a few hours roaming around, I had cheap dinner and planned to go to sleep early to head for the Great Wall the next day. I figured that the best way to relax and fall asleep would be to visit the massage parlour at the hotel. The traditional Chinese massage I received was like taking a beating from a 4-foot 90lbs Chinese girl. She pounded my back with her elbows and ripped my arms and legs out of their sockets. Not exactly gentle. It was right on the line between pleasure and pain, with the occasional digression on either side. At the end, she offered to continue the massage in my hotel room, but I turned her down as I thought I knew where that was going… Battered, I struggled back to my bed.