When we opened, we assumed the oxygen chambers would be the story. They’re the dramatic part. They’re in all the photos.
Then the reviews started coming in, and one word kept turning up.
Chair.
People write about it the way you’d write about a little restaurant you’ve found: slightly protective, already planning the next visit.
It asks nothing of you
Here’s our theory. A massage from a person is lovely, but it comes with a small social job. Undressing. Small talk. Wondering whether it’s rude to say it’s too hard. Lying there composing an email in your head while being polite.
The chair removes all of it. You sit down fully clothed. We give you foot covers. Angelo sets it going, the hood curves over your head, and the chair tips back until your legs are raised and your weight is spread evenly. Nobody is waiting for you to say anything. Nobody needs anything from you at all.
About five minutes in
Rollers find the shape of your back and work up and down your spine, across your shoulders and into your neck, with gentle warmth. Air cushions squeeze and release around the rest of your body. Too strong? Angelo turns it down. Too gentle? He turns it up.
And then there’s a moment, usually about five minutes in, when you stop thinking about the chair. That’s the moment people are writing about.
Who it’s for
The person whose day happens on a laptop, with shoulders that live somewhere near their ears by four o’clock. The person who has had a week and can’t face being sociable, even with a therapist. The person who’s curious about the oxygen chambers but wants to start with something familiar.
Plenty of people come for the chair. Plenty of them stay for everything else.
It’s better with two
We have two chairs, side by side. Bring a friend, your partner, your mum. You don’t have to talk. That’s rather the point.
Thirty minutes is £25 on your own, or £35 for the two of you. Open every day, 8am to 8pm.