The Brooklyn Papers / Tom Callan

Showered with attention: Hibiscus Day Spa Director Anton Jones shows off the wet room, with Vichy shower, where body scrubs take place.

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When she was a child in Guyana, South America, Rosa-Nicole Barclay’s grandmother told her she had magic hands.

"Of all of her grandchildren, she anointed me as the one whose fingers could heal," Barclay said to me as she massaged my lower back at the new Hibiscus Day Spa in Stuyvesant Heights. "So I’ve been doing this ever since."

And I was luckier for it.

After spending nearly eight hours of the previous day driving to-and-from Hershey, Pa. - with my boss - I was more than a little tense. Follow that up with a lack of sleep and another long drive down permanently gridlocked Atlantic Avenue, and I was as ready for some healing as I’ve ever been.

Located inside a renovated brownstone at the corner of Halsey Street and Stuyvesant Avenue, the spa fits nicely into what appears to have been a three-bedroom apartment. Its two treatment rooms - one strictly for massage and one for massage and facials - are each big enough for a couple’s massage, according to manager Anton Jones. A Vichy shower room, for treatments like the new "lemon sugar body polish" will soon double as a sauna. The spa also features a nail care suite with two pedicure stations sitting like thrones atop the original hardwood floors.

According to Jones, owner Hollis Barclay - Rosa’s cousin - completely overhauled the location before opening Stuyvesant Heights’s only spa in February.

"The place was a shell," he said, pointing out that walls had to be installed before they were painted a calming, buttery yellow. "But now it’s beautiful."

The new walls are embellished with local artists’ work - which are all for sale along with the many products on display, including June Jacobs body care, Votivo sprays and candles and Bami soaps.

Customers are greeted with champagne, wine or tea and - if you’re hungry - a fondue of the day.

"We have chocolate, caramel or cheese," Jones said. "And anyone that visits us can enjoy it with fresh fruit."

But having spent the past 24-hours cramped in the confines of 1998 Ford Escort speeding through the Raritan Valley, I was more interested in getting into the treatment room then chowing down.

Enter Rosa.

Exit consciousness.

My one-hour massage worked wonders, from my not-so-surprisingly aching lower back to my ever-present right shoulder and neck pain. Rosa said she would use Swedish techniques to melt away my stress, and she delivered.

But the highlight for me was her work on my legs - which I would consider the best rubdown I’ve ever had on the sticks that keep me moving. Rosa pushed and pulled them into submission before bending my knees and applying so much pressure, it seemed as if my ankles had become attached to my butt. Butt, it felt great.

She had told me earlier of how she used to take care of her grandmother back in Guyana, working specifically on her painful knees and legs. Now, that practice was paying dividends.

The only complaint I had with the massage was the lack of a "donut hole" to rest my face while Rosa worked her magic. While an aromatic beanbag shaped like the donut was provided, it didn’t do the same job, and kept me occasionally twisting my head so I could take the deep breaths necessary to make the massage a success.

Still, when Rosa was finished, I was a new man. My knees wobbly, I got dressed, headed to the lobby, and enjoyed a cup of tea - hibiscus, of course - while chatting up the friendly staff.

The name, I was told as I sipped my tea with honey, comes from a flower that flourishes in the Caribbean.

"It’s in everyone’s backyard," Rosa told me.

And while I was sent there solo by my editor, both Rosa and Jones pointed out that they had catered to many couples - around Valentine’s Day - when they also received a proclamation from Borough President Markowitz for bringing spa service to Stuyvesant Heights.

In fact, Jones said Marty promised to come back for a massage and Vichy shower sometime soon - a photo opportunity in the making if there ever was one.

When he does return, my advice to Mr. Brooklyn would be simple: have Rosa work on your legs.

Her grandmother, I came to realize, was a wise woman.

See the Brooklyn Spa Directory for more information.

©2006 The Brooklyn Paper