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Feeling in need of some pampering but unwilling to pay 28 euros for a manicure at the nail salon on my street, I decided to follow the centime-pinching parisiennes’ example and treat myself to a day at a hammam. A hammam is a Middle Eastern bathhouse and prices are usually lower than those charged by spas for comparable treatments.
Thanks to a longstanding and still-growing Middle Eastern and North African immigration, there are a number of hammams in Paris, including the well-known one at La Mosquée in the 5th arrondissement. Middle Eastern friends, however, convinced me that if I wanted an authentic bathhouse experience, I needed to venture out to Hammam Pacha in Saint-Denis, a women-only bathhouse.
While a trip to St. Denis may seem unsafe – this is, after all, one of the sites of the now-infamous riots – the area felt perfectly safe to me, a woman meandering around the neighborhood alone. When I lost my way in the residential area around the metro stop, a couple of local men pointed me in the right direction. As I was about to leave them, they asked me where I was from, and were excited to learn I was from the United States because one of them had a relative who lives in New York. In short, even though I had a foreign accent, I did not feel targeted the way tourists usually are in the more central parts of Paris.
I shortly arrived at the main market area, which was lively and full of people going about their daily errands. Hammam Pacha is located a few blocks off the main market area, near some North African markets and kebab shops. The building is rather unassuming from the outside, and except for a sign with the name, it is not immediately apparent that it houses a spa inside.
Once inside, I found myself in a large and airy reception room that also doubles as the hammam’s restaurant. On seeing the tables, covered with colorful tablecloths, the potted indoor trees, and the delicately carved folding screens, I could almost imagine that I had just entered a café in the Maghreb. And when I saw some of the fresh salads and honeyed sweets that two women were enjoying, I was briefly tempted to forgo the spa and stay for lunch instead.
For 55 euros, I got a basic entrance to the hammam, along with a full-body exfoliating scrub (gommage) and all the items needed for the scrub itself, namely an exfoliating black soap (savon noir) and a scrubbing glove (gant de gommage). The entrance fee to the hammam includes plastic sandals and a bathrobe, as well as a key to a locker to deposit all your things (and depositing them you will be, as most women in the hammam wear only their bikini bottoms, and a few were totally nude). The hammam also offers additional services, such as massages and depilation, for an additional fee. Although an appointment is not necessary for most of the treatments, you are requested to make an appointment for depilation services.
The hammam itself is made up of three rooms: a shower and pool room, a steam room, and a resting room (salle de repose). In the shower and pool room, the crisply clean white walls are decorated with glazed arabesque tiles and baseboards featuring flower and fish motifs in calming blues and greens. A lot of the women appeared to be on their own, just as I was, and they ranged from young twenty-somethings to women of a certain age. Most of the conversations that I could overhear were in low, murmured French, which, when combined with the sound of constant running water, created a calming, almost library-like atmosphere. In the Middle East, a visit to the hammam is not just about bodily cleansing, but is also a chance to socialize and catch up with friends and neighbors. But as I went to the hammam alone and am body-shy, I was glad that Middle Eastern friendliness gave way to Gallic reserve once I was inside.
The first step in the cleansing process is to shower with the exfoliating black olive oil soap, which smelled like a combination of herbs and menthol, a sort of toiletry version of Ricola. After my shower, I took a dip in the pool and then dried out in the nearby sauna (one of the employees later kindly explained that the sauna and pool – in that order – comprise the last stage in the cleansing process, rather than the first, though no one seemed bothered that I had inadvertently altered the order of the cleansing).
Feeling thoroughly refreshed, I wandered over to the steam room, which was actually made up of two rooms: one full of marble tables bigger than my living room and a steam locker. In the middle of the steam room, a green octagonal structure that looks like a flower with its petals open doubles as a steam releaser and a seating bench. The eucalyptus-scented steaming room was hotter and more humid than anything this Floridian has ever felt, and at one point I could not tell if the wetness on my skin was from my own perspiration or from the drops of water falling from the ceiling.
When I could take the heat no more, I stepped outside to the area with the marble tables and a friendly woman clad in a t-shirt and bikini bottom told me to lie down at the edge of one of the tables with my arms straight up over my head. She took the scrubbing glove and proceeded to rub vigorously all over my body. Although I had thought myself thoroughly cleansed by my shower and pool dip, gray bits of dead skin started flying around. She then had me turn around and scrubbed the back of my body. When she was done, she instructed me to shower to get rid of the dead skin clinging to my body. The shower also acts as a toner. Despite the vigorous scrubbing, my skin felt smooth and polished.
The combination of the steam room and the exfoliating scrub left me feeling very relaxed and wishing I had opted for at least the basic massage. But, since I had earlier decided to make this a budget outing, I instead bought a small kettle of sugary mint tea, which was served on a silver platter and with a gold-rimmed glass. I then wandered over to the salle de repose, where women in various states of undress relaxed in recessed alcoves covered with straw mats and colorfully-embroidered cushions. Imagining myself as a harem resident in an exotic desert land, I dozed on and off for about an hour while I drank my tea and contemplated the arabesque decorations of the room and my loosened limbs. At the end of it all, I was rested and ready to confront the world outside this peaceful oasis.
If you would like to experience this authentic hammam, Hammam Pacha is accessible by metro. Take line 13 to Saint-Denis Basilique and make your way to rue Bonnevide, which will lead you to rue Gabriel Péri. The hammam is located at 147 rue Gabriel Péri, 93200 Saint-Denis (tel.: 01 48 29 19 66) and can be visited on the internet at www.hammampacha.com (note that Hammam Pacha has recently opened a location in central Paris). Hammam Pacha is open from 11:00 am to 8:00 pm on Monday-Wednesday, from 11:00 am to 11:00 pm on Thursdays and Fridays, and from 10:00 am to 8:00 pm on Saturdays and Sundays. During the months of August and September, the hamman, however, is not open Monday-Wednesday.
While St. Denis feels safer than similar neighborhoods in other counties, you should still remain vigilant while walking around the center. Because it is so close to Paris and metro-accessible, you will not need to stay at a hotel in the area to enjoy this authentic experience.
Macrui Dostourian, a recovering attorney, is currently living la vida expat in South London with her husband and baby son. She and her husband blog about their global adventures at www.makietdiego.blogspot.com.
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Copyright © 2010 Macrui Dostourian
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