Women who sweat
An ode to connections forged in the heat of the moment
It was already close to 10pm when I took off my white robe and stepped into the sauna. I’d been hoping, as I walked along the carpeted hotel corridors in my towelling slippers, stood inside the offensively bright lift and walked down the final flight of stairs into the bowels of the building, that I’d have the place to myself. I…