La dolce vita

I’ve been in Lucca, Tuscany, for the past 10 days eating a lot of wonderful Italian produce – tomatoes, borlotti beans, white peaches, strawberries, irresistible ricotta (nothing to do with the stuff you buy here) and great coffee. I also did what I could to support the Italian wine industry…

Lucca is a special town where everything seems to work. It’s clean, almost traffic- free, green, charming and full of pretty streets and good-looking people. The one thing it doesn’t seem to have is a good massage therapist. I like to get a deep-tissue massage while on holiday but no one seemed to offer it. There were a couple of spa massage therapists offering the kind of massage that irritates the hell out of me but nothing I thought worth trying.

Someone asked me what I wanted a massage for? I was on holiday, relaxing, had nothing much wrong with me so what was the point? But I have never felt I had to have something wrong with me to seek the services of a good masseur. I want a massage in the same way that I want a glass of Chianti of an evening. Because it makes me feel good. It's just one of those things that keep life sweet.

My partner and I have been playing with the idea of buying a flat in Lucca. I wouldn’t give up my London practice but I reckon if I worked as a therapist in Lucca, I’d do
rather well. There isn’t much competition. It would also give me the chance to explore more of those luscious Tuscan reds.