Massage in Vietnam, and how to read the sign outside

The massage shop is the most under-used thing on a Vietnamese street. There is one every few doors, and an hour costs less than a coffee in most European cities. Almost every visitor walks past all of them for a fortnight.

The sign is what stops people. There are two kinds of massage business here and they are easy to tell apart once anybody explains how, which nobody does.

What is on the menu?

Four things, and the names are consistent across the country.

Foot massage is the one to start with. It happens in a reclining chair in a room with other people, takes an hour, and costs about two bowls of pho. Nobody undresses, which removes most of the hesitation.

How much should you pay?

Between 150,000 and 300,000 dong an hour at a neighbourhood shop, which is where most of these are. A dedicated spa with a reception desk runs 400,000 to 800,000. A hotel charges from a million upward for the same hour, with a robe.

At about 26,000 dong to the dollar, the everyday version is six to twelve dollars. At that price a massage after a long travel day stops being a treat and becomes part of the itinerary. The older parents guide makes the case for building them in deliberately.

Which sign means what?

The honest ones look boring. Bright fluorescent light, a printed price list by the door, plastic chairs, a staff member sitting reading a phone. The word is usually mát-xa or massage plus xông hơi, which means steam.

Walk past anything with dark glass, no visible prices, or staff calling from the doorway to passing men. A neon massage sign still lit at eleven means the same thing. Those places sell something else, and the distinction is not subtle once you know to look. This is one of the few areas where the safety guide and common sense point at exactly the same doors.

Hotel and spa bookings avoid the question entirely, which is what many people prefer on a first trip.

What actually happens?

At a foot place: you sit, someone brings a bucket of warm water and washes your feet. The work then goes from the toes to the knee for the rest of the hour. Tea appears at the end.

At a body place: a curtained cubicle, loose cotton clothes or a towel, and an hour of firm work with oil. Firm is the operative word — Vietnamese massage aims at knots rather than at relaxation, and the shoulders and calves are where visitors flinch.

Two words fix that. Nhẹ (nyeh) means light. Mạnh (manh) means strong. Saying either once is normal and nobody is offended; the language guide has the rest of the useful vocabulary.

Do you tip?

At a small shop, yes, in cash. Hand 30,000 to 50,000 dong to the therapist rather than leaving it at the desk. At a hotel spa the service charge is already on the bill.

The tipping guide covers why this is one of the few places here where a tip is genuinely expected.

Where does it fit a trip?

After the overnight bus, after the trekking day, on the wet afternoon. It is the reliable answer to a body that has been on plastic stools and motorbike seats for two weeks.

Sapa is the place people remember. The herbal bath of the Red Dao, a wooden tub of steeped mountain herbs, is a local tradition rather than a spa invention. On the coast, Nha Trang runs mud baths for a similar price. The rainy day guide lists both under things that improve when the weather does not.