Programs range from hour-long combinations of services (massage, exfoliation, wraps, facials and bliss-inducing oildowns with exotic names like Ayurvedic) to day-long agendas. Upon arrival at the spa, I'm led to an all-white room where ethereal New Age music is playing — an Enya song; luckily, no Kenny G. I alert the aesthclician, a serene Israeli woman named Anal, that I'm none too partial to oils, gels, goops and the like.