Spas are really not as sensual as their visual representations on television make them out to be.

The male apprehensiveness towards spas could well stem from how spas advertise themselves. More often than not, it's a beautiful woman bathing in a pool with floating flowers, or a fair-skinned maiden, covered only up to her waist and lying face down on the table.

And the expressions on the faces of these models? It's usually of pure bliss and they look like they are having a self-gratifying time all by themselves, without their male partners.

So where do we men fit it? In comparison to the nubile, art-inspiring female body form, the male one is often hairy, muscular and very functional. It's hard to visualise being in those pictures, let alone looking gratified and blissful.

And so when I took my first tentative steps into the spa world, I was naturally apprehensive and filled with dread. Yet, it was curiosity that pushed me on.

My first worry was what I should wear, or not wear. So I sought help from an experienced male colleague.

"In Singapore? Usually they will give you a change of clothes, something more comfortable to wear. There is no Full Monty. I think there are some rules in Singapore. You brought a pair of shorts right? That should be okay," he said.

That was good to know.

"Here, you can change into this," said the assistant at the spa, handing me a tightly wrapped palm-sized plastic package. "It's disposable underwear" she explained. "Whenever you are ready, we can start!" she finished, closing the door behind her.

Okay, so a little twist in expectations. For those who have not tried disposable underwear up till now, like myself - a piece of advice: there is no back or front. The few seconds I spent trying to figure it out probably made the massage therapist come in a little "earlier" than I expected.

"Sir, are you ready?" a voice said, accompanied by a few knocks on the door. The muffled replies of "hang on" probably didn't register and I barely got myself face down on the table when the therapist came in.

And this was when my imagined sensuality of a spa experience crept in since therapists are often depicted as doe-eyed and as beautiful as the spa-goers themselves.

But after my maiden spa experience, I can safely say that when a skilled masseuse starts working on you, even if she was Beyonce, I seriously doubt that it would be "arousing" in any sensual way. Her job is to find "problematic" areas on your body, and knead the muscles to loosen or un-knot any tension.

My masseuse deftly used her fingers, palms and elbows on me and it was hard to imagine that only a pair of hands were at work, so good was she.

There were tense moments and some pain now and then but when the pressure was released, I dare say I was groaning, albeit silently, with some pleasure.
And the massage therapist reminds me a little of my mom. By nature of her trade, she will tell that you have been loafing on your exercise routine or not drinking enough water, and she advises you to come back for another session soon.

Curious, I asked her for more information about the oils and herbs she had used on me, questions most men shy from in the same way that they loathe asking for directions even when the are lost.

But as I learnt on this outing, it doesn't hurt to ask. In fact, even if every oil concoction or body wash smells sweet and fragrant to you, it's useful to know what they are good for. Besides emanating different odours, each has its own healing properties, for relaxation, de-stressing, calming or for a good night's sleep.

So are spas sensual? Yes, in my make-believe monents, they certainly are, but I can assure you that the therapeutic, soothing and relaxing rewards far outweigh any flights of fancy you might have.

You owe it to yourself to try a spa experience at least once.