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The adventure and misadventure of getting a massage in Beijing, China I love massage almost as much as I love traveling. Perhaps it’s because I carry a monster backpack that at times can leave my body feeling like a stiff corpse. Perhaps it’s because after so much time alone, being touched and caressed is welcoming. Or perhaps it’s just simply my curiosity about how different cultures approach touch in different ways. Whatever it is that lures me into small shanty shacks, open beach cabanas, or dimly lit, and…

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