Story | Leslie Yip
I’m two inches taller as I step back onto Adelaide Street.
At least, that’s certainly how it feels.
I have just finished a 90-minute traditional Thai massage at Bahn Thai Spa and School, tucked just steps from Toronto’s Financial District. My stride feels longer, my body lighter, and even the usual chatter in my head has gone remarkably quiet.
I arrive half an hour early for my appointment, which turns out to be a happy accident.
Founder Kate Armstrong welcomes me with a cup of organic lemongrass tea and—thanks to one therapist’s birthday—a slice of cake. The atmosphere feels less like checking into a luxury spa than dropping by someone’s home, which is exactly the point. Bahn means “home” in Thai.
Over tea, Kate tells me how she left a successful career in stockbroking after discovering the restorative power of Thai massage while navigating personal health challenges and supporting her sister through cancer. She trained extensively in Chiang Mai before opening Bahn Thai in 2014—not just as a spa, but as a school.
“I want people to learn this so they can help the people they love,” she says.
“In Thailand, massage isn’t a luxury. It’s part of everyday life.” That philosophy extends well beyond the school’s professional certification programs. Bahn Thai also offers regular workshops for couples and friends, where participants learn practical techniques they can use to care for one another at home. It’s a lovely reminder that healing isn’t reserved for professionals—it can be one of the simplest ways we show love to the people closest to us.
As students move between classrooms and treatment rooms, it dawns on me that the school is more than an extension of the spa—it’s proof of its authenticity. Anyone can advertise “traditional” Thai massage. Teaching it is another matter.
Then Kate casually mentions international Thai massage competitions.
I laugh.
“There are world championships?”
There are indeed.
One of Bahn Thai’s instructors is Toronto-born Chinese Canadian Len Liang, whose parents emigrated from Hong Kong. In 2026 alone, he competed in six countries before winning both the World Championship in Traditional Thai Massage and the Overall World Massage Championship in Copenhagen. Today he teaches at Bahn Thai while judging competitions and helping introduce authentic Thai massage around the world.
With credentials like that behind the school, I’m more than ready for my own treatment.
It begins with an unexpected bonus: 30 minutes in an infrared sauna. The gentle radiant heat warms muscles from within, boosting circulation and preparing the body for deeper stretching. After a quick shower, I change into the loose cotton T-shirt and traditional fisherman’s pants provided by the spa. Thai massage is performed fully clothed, on thick padded mats in a softly lit room that feels more sanctuary than spa.
I practise yoga regularly and consider myself reasonably flexible, so I’ll admit to feeling quietly smug when my therapist begins folding me into increasingly ambitious stretches and my body happily goes along.
That confidence lasts about 15 minutes.
When we reach my hips and shoulders, I discover muscles I apparently haven’t introduced myself to in years.
There are moments when I’m convinced I can’t possibly stretch another centimetre. Yet nothing feels forced. My therapist simply waits, holding each position with calm, patient confidence until the tightness gradually gives way.
Suddenly, there’s space where there wasn’t before.
That’s when I understand why people say Thai massage makes them feel taller.
Known traditionally as Nuad Thai, Thai massage has been practised for more than 2,500 years. Blending assisted stretching, rhythmic compression, acupressure and mindful movement, it remains a living tradition passed from teacher to student. In 2019, UNESCO recognized Traditional Thai Massage as part of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Bahn Thai teaches both the structured Royal Wat Pho style and the flowing Northern Chiang Mai tradition, preserving techniques that have endured for centuries.
As the treatment unfolds, I stop analyzing what’s happening and simply surrender to it.
The movements become almost meditative. There’s the same feeling of lengthening through the spine, opening through the hips and finding stillness that I associate with yoga.
Then it hits me.
This is yoga.
Only I haven’t done any of the work.
Bahn Thai’s slogan suddenly makes perfect sense.
“We do your yoga for you.”
I step back onto Adelaide Street and smile.
Am I actually two inches taller?
Of course not.
But I leave feeling exactly as though I am.
And somehow, that’s even better.
