A Fishy Business

On balance, I think that it's fair to say that I like fish. They can be very tasty, like a nice bit of Battered Cod or Haddock, or a tasty piece of Salmon. I’ve even ventured into the world of Monkfish and I once had a Paella in Ibiza that looked like the aftermath of an explosion in an aquarium. I’ve also had fish as pets, mostly Goldfish, who don’t do a lot apart from swim around looking a bit confused. Thinking I knew everything I needed to know about fish you can imagine my surprise to encounter some fish who had set up their own business and entered the world of dermatology.

I’d heard from a work colleague about a new shop in Peterborough “…where fish eat your feet”. This got my attention from the off. I immediately decided that I wanted to know more so, out of curiosity, I wheeled past in my lunch break. Sure enough, one of the units in the Queensgate Shopping Centre, in between a shoe shop and a cycle emporium, was occupied by tanks of small black fish where people can go in and part with their hard earned money to dip their feet in and have the little blighters munch at your dead skin.

There were a number of people in the establishment with their trousers rolled up and their legs in the fish filled water but even more stood outside staring in at this phenomenon in disbelief and, in some cases, horror. A woman next to me caught my eye and pulled a face. At least I think that was what she was doing. Maybe she just had an unfortunate face. I smiled back in an ‘it takes all sorts’ kind of way but I had already decided that I was definitely going to have a crack at this.

When I got home I explained the plan to the present Mrs Hayward and a friend who was staying with us. We were going to ‘Appyfeet’ on Saturday morning to have our feet eaten by fish. I figured as they’d been on a spa day that they might be partial to a bit of alternative therapy, and, after plying them with a few glasses of wine, it turned out that I was right.

So Saturday morning there we were, stood at the counter, happily parting with £10 to put our feet in a tank of fish for 15 minutes. We filled in our health questionnaires and signed the disclaimer and Mrs Hayward quizzed the young lady on the counter about the whole process. “Will it hurt?” – it doesn’t, the fish don’t have any teeth. “Do you feed them with anything else?” – they do, every night. “Do they just eat the dead skin” – no, they’ll strip your skin to the bone like Piranhas, yes they just eat the dead skin. “Can I catch anything off the fish?” – yes, fin rot, no it’s completely safe.    

So after rinsing our feet off like we were at the swimming pool (no, still haven’t filled my form in before you ask, but I will), we were poised over our own tank full of the little vampire fish. They’re actually called Garra Rufa but I’m no David Attenborough so I can tell you no more.

With some trepidation we dipped our feet in the tanks and the little fishies swarmed around our feet like we were in some aquatic version of ‘The Birds’. Our friend screamed, which startled the other customers if not the fish, but it was more to do with the initial feeling which is like having your feet tickled by, well, small fish, but very quickly you relax into it and let them get on with their job.

I can’t put my hand on my heart and say that you forget they are there, after all it’s a load of little fish snacking on your feet, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. I watched on as they got stuck into my heels with relish, and when I happened to open my toes it caused quite a stir to the point that I was concerned they were going to get themselves trapped in there. I’m sure I even saw one brandishing a nail file but I may have been getting carried away with the moment.

After our 15 minutes of fishy therapy we took our feet out, dried them off and marvelled at their respective smoothness. Now I’ve been to a Chiropodist in the past who chopped off my dead skin with an aggressive looking knife but at least with the fish I didn’t have to discuss with them where I was going on my holiday this year or risk blood being drawn. The effect was pretty much the same as well; my feet felt like I was walking on cushions afterwards.

Mrs Hayward was particularly impressed, which is surprising as she’s not usually the biggest fan of our animal cousins. This is the woman who at Whipsnade Zoo questioned whether Penguins were fish or birds, much to the amusement of the primary school kids near us.

She reckons she’s going back for another dose of fish nibbling and I would suggest that you try it out for yourself and see what you think. After all, it’s a talking point and 'Appyfeet' is not just confined to Peterborough, according to their website they’re springing up all over the place.

Maybe I’ll be tempted back but for the meantime I’ve booked myself in with a Spider Monkey that does Reiki Head Massage. I’ll give you his number.