After lunch at La Hacienda, my pale legs and I trucked down to the Spa at Barcelo, which is, unsurprisingly, very, very beautiful, if a touch New Age-y for my taste (see: color therapy pool). I don’t know…I just can’t get on the spa train. It seems like such a waste of money to me: I like spending my money on more tangible things, or at the very least experiences that I won’t sleep through (put me on a spa table and I pass out immediately). Were I forced on pain of death to get a spa treatment, though, I suppose I could deal…and I’d probably choose a basic Swedish massage.
Just don’t expect me to stay awake through it.
Phelgye tunic, Forever21 shorts, Aldo sandals.
