Hit by hammers and trampled with fire? The wacky hidden spas of Chiang Mai

I am letting a man walk all over me – and not only that, his feet are on fire. No, this is not a metaphor for a relationship gone horribly wrong; this is an ancient Thai massage known as yam kang, a therapy so rare that nowadays it can only be found in a handful of home salons hidden in the northern Thai countryside. I’ve managed to track down one of the last practitioners in the bucolic Hang Dong district, 30 minutes south of Chiang Mai.

It hasn’t been the easiest place to find – even my guide and driver don’t know of it – but after a few wrong turns into strangers’ front yards, a smiling old woman with a single tombstone tooth directs us into Baan Rai Kong King. This tiny village that no one seems to have heard of turns out to be part of a new sustainable community tourism project and a proud winner of the King of Thailand’s Keem Tong Golden Pliers, an annual award given out to the loveliest locale in the country.

There are small, gaily painted wooden houses, gardens neatly planted with lemon grass, pepper and acacia shrubs, chickens being chased around by puppies and a large open-air sala, with a mat and hissing cauldron laid out in preparation for my fire massage.  

It’s a far cry from your average Thai spa, which is exactly why I’m here. While southern belles Phuket and Koh Samui are known for their high-end holistic retreats, it’s in the spiritual, temple-studded north – and particularly at the Thai Traditional Complementary Medicine centre at Chiang Mai University – that many of their therapists are trained. If, like me, you’re seeking authentic, out-of-the-ordinary treatments, this is the place.

Face up on the mat, wearing the loose shorts and T-shirt I’ve been provided with, I’m ready when my masseur, Master Sanguan Buagon appears. He looks magnificent: barefoot, wearing a plaid sash and a red, white and blue bandanna. My guide translates that Master Sanguan is 55 years old and learned yam kang from his grandparents, who, in turn, learned from their grandparents.

But, he adds, “Young people aren’t interested in learning fire massage any more; they want to find jobs with more money,” – making Master Sanguan the last of his kind, which I will find out is a travesty.

As my masseur performs a short ritual, chanting prayers and offering a bowl of flowers skywards, I nervously eye up the cauldron. The coals inside are now glowing furious red. Alongside are two saucers of liquid, one containing the root of a local ginger tree, the other bright orange sesame oil. In a literal flash, Master Sanguan dips his foot in one bowl and then the other and – crack! hiss! – his sole crosses the coals, combusts into flames and presses down on to my left foot. I’m expecting some degree of pain but instead there’s a pleasing flare of heat followed by a warm ginger-scented afterglow. I melt.

Dip, flash, press, repeat, he works his way over my calves and thighs before flipping me over to iron out my back. His smooth, platelike feet feel more like large hands and his toes dig into my knots with the dexterity of Mozart’s fingers. To the sound of crackling fire and birdsong, I’m soon lulled to sleep.

The price of the treatment – 1,000 Thai baht (about £22) for a one-hour massage – is considered expensive in Thailand, but this is one of the most memorable I’ve had in four years of experiencing the country’s spas, and I think it’s fantastic value. But there’s more to come. My next stop takes me 40 minutes north-west of Chiang Mai to Mae Rim, an area known for its beautiful patchwork of rice paddies, flowers and fruit farms. Here, I’m going to try tok sen, a massage performed using wooden hammers and chisels. Gulp!

As we pull into the pandan-lined yard of Tok Sen Massage Kru Dao, I can hear the clack, clack, clack of the implements smashing together. It doesn’t exactly sound relaxing. However, it does seem to be working for the dozen dazed patrons stretched on wooden beds in the salon’s open-air sala.

The owner, Khun Aroonsri Lamomphrom, whose late father invented tok sen more than 60 years ago, and who teaches the technique at Chiang Mai University, leads me to a simple private room. Here, she pulls out a basket of rosewood hammers and chisels of varying size, tells me to lie face down and proceeds to batter me from the base of my skull to my little toes.

I’ve been told the vibration from the blows can help with arthritis and the natural straightening of bones, but it’s my crunchy laptop back that really feels the benefit, as each tap levers apart tight muscles and disintegrates knots. I love it. It is so much more soothing than I imagined it would be. And the maddeningly repetitive sound, annoying at first, soon sends me into a trance. I emerge into full consciousness two dreamy hours later, as loose as a ribbon and gratefully pay up the stupidly cheap 400 baht (£9) fee.

Upping the extreme spa ante even further is Tao Garden Health Spa and Resort (tao-garden.com), a huge compound of tai chi gardens, yoga pavilions, saltwater pools, meditation halls and medical clinics, which specialises in Taoist healing practices. Wellness practitioners visit from all over the world to train as teachers of qi gong (similar to tai chi) and learn chi nei tsang, an intense abdominal massage used to release emotional stress (and encourage bowel movements).

With trepidation, I try the treatment at the beautiful 137 Pillars House (137pillarschiangmai.com), where I’ve been staying, putting my trust in a Tao Garden-trained practitioner. From my colonial-inspired room, I am swept through peaceful gardens and upstairs to a shadowy spa suite.

The treatment focuses solely on the stomach and begins with gentle circular rubs, which steadily increase in intensity until it feels like my masseuse is digging for gold. It’s not painful, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either. Afterwards, though, I do feel lighter and that night sleep like a baby.  

In the same neighbourhood and unconventional in its own way is the vocational training centre of the Chiang Mai Women’s Correctional Institution. All of its therapists are inmates participating in the prison’s rehabilitation programme. Set in an old, Lanna-style house surrounded by banyan trees, it has made a name for itself as offering one of the best traditional Thai massages in town – but with a one-hour rubdown costing just 200 baht (£4.50), and appointments on a first come first served basis, it can be tricky to get a slot.

I arrive for opening time at 8am and am given one of the first appointments by a guard wearing khakis, red lipstick and slippers. Inside, smiling therapists in silk pyjamas wait alongside two rows of wooden beds. For the next hour I am pressed, pulled, pummeled, twisted and squeezed in precise fashion until I yield like a wilted flower. It’s as good as any massage I’ve experienced in a five-star hotel, and one I’ll definitely come back to try again.

By far the most enchanting spot I visited was the Dheva Spa at the Dhara Dhevi hotel (dharadhevi.com), a mini-Mandalay Palace of gold-trimmed spires, mythical animal sculptures and ornately carved teak pavilions, set within tropical gardens redolent with the scent of jasmine, frangipani and ylang-ylang. Trained by the hotel’s previous owners, Mandarin Oriental, the therapists are some of the best in the business.

Treatment suites are palatial and facilities include everything from a hammam to heated marble scrub tables, Vichy showers and a watsu pool. Treatments range from the sublime two-hour-long shironasya, involving a coma-inducing black sesame oil head massage, a coconut cream facial and a hyper-personalised body massage, to the ridiculous energy field imaging, which is meant to read electro-magnetic biofields (whatever they are) – I’m unconvinced by it.  

I end my trip obscenely relaxed with petal-soft skin and the added bonus of a bunch of memorable experiences to reflect upon. While Thailand’s southern spas may get all the attention, for my money it is Chiang Mai that’s the real deal.

Essentials

Wix Squared (020 3808 6383; wixsquared.com) can tailor-make five nights in Chiang Mai from £1,900 per person based on two sharing. The price includes accommodation at 137 Pillars, daily breakfast, return flights from London to Chiang Mai via Bangkok with Thai Airways, and private transfers.