TALMEI ELAZAR, Israel — Ada Barak twisted her pearly pink lips to a smile as she reached into the sink in the corner of her spa's massage room.

"Come, my children," she said, scooping a slithering knot from the basin and walking to the massage table where a young client lay waiting for her skin to crawl. Literally.

With a faux-dramatic gasp, Ada plopped a half dozen non-venomous snakes on the woman's back. Yes, snakes. The "snake massage" is Ada's trademark treatment here at her self-styled spa in northern Israel. It is also where she showcases her collection of carnivorous plants that eat everything from bugs to schnitzel. Not exactly the stuff of spa serenity.

Ada insists the snakes are calming and "act like hot stones to compress." She says she discovered their curative traits when visitors to her farm held the snakes and felt soothed and tickled by their cool skin.

The big snakes do the deep massage; the little ones provide the gentle touch. The client, 22-year old Shirley Asor, insists the whole thing "feels nice," until one of them got a little too personal for a first date. Later, the treatment ended when the big king snake left its partially digested breakfast on the table. Natural therapy has its own set of risks.

Since the time of Eve, serpents do not boast a great reputation in the Holy Land and in this case they lack any medical credibility to support Ada's claims. That has not deterred a growing list of curious people willing to fork out $80 to have Ada unleash her snakes on pains. Ada has appeared on talk shows in the United States, gets calls from across Europe, and insists Madonna is interested in trying it.

This reporter was not as keen.

Let me try to quickly clarify the extent of my phobia with snakes. It is massive. It cannot be understated. Admittedly I have had to assess risk in unsavoury parts of the world but rarely have I felt such dread as when we pulled into Ada's driveway.

I agreed to a "hand massage" thinking it would be a safe and controllable option. I was wrong.

Ada dropped the snakes on my hands (that were shaking). Breathing became an effort but I was otherwise still conscious. Okay, I thought, I can do this. Uh uh. The snakes began to explore and move up my arm and Ada tried to guide one of them into my sleeve. No pleading could deter any of them.

Cue the panic and instinctive clenching that forced my shoulders into my ears. With a free hand I grabbed at the collar of my shirt and wrenched it tightly at my neck to prevent any straying to, well, you know. I vaguely remember Ada extolling the virtues of what was happening to which I replied, quite simply, that it was not the most relaxing massage I had ever had.

That is when she started weaving the tiny milk snakes into my hair.

So I closed my eyes to block out the surroundings and tried to imagine myself elsewhere. And when it was all over, I regained a shred of composure and the relief alone was therapeutic.

Ada hopes to expand her menu of treatments to include rodent reflexology where rats and mice are set free on the feet.

In the meantime, the snake massage is attracting nearly a dozen therapy and thrill-seeking clients a week at the world's only spa where hiss is bliss.