No doorway to find, no street to walk
Maps are good at showing places and poor at showing distance as it feels at night. A pin that looks close still means dressing again, finding the right door on an unlit street, waiting in a room decorated to somebody else's taste, and then walking home with the gel barely rinsed and the cold waiting outside. Nuru in particular does not survive that last part well; the whole point of the hour is a warmth that carries on into sleep, and a tram ride undoes it in minutes. So we keep no premises at all. Every session is outcall, which means the distance you cover is the distance from the bathroom to the bed, and the only journey that has to be planned is the therapist's. For a technique built on heat and slowness, nearness measured from your own door is the only kind that counts.
