After a few years of enjoying Japanese Onsens, I never thought I would find anything comparable, no less an experience that might surpass it. As for nudity, I thought it was exceptional that Japanese bathed nude together, but this seems somewhat quaint after experiencing the mixed gender nudity of the European Sauna.
The first round, I started in a treehouse, looking out over the wooden railing to view a lake surrounded by bathing chairs and swimmers paddling around in the water. Upon entering, I did a quick check on what to bring with me and probably confused the couple inside when I left the door open a tad long to snatch my towel that I had just hung up.
Fortunately, they got up just as I was sitting down, letting me adjust myself in a way that I imagined would be acceptable for a heavily occupied room. Should I sit or lay down? Is cross-legged okay? How long do I stay in? Do you look up and acknowledge people that come in?
I kept my gaze broad as a man walked in. The couple that had just left sat outside chatting on the wooden deck still in the nude. The spot allowed me to continue looking over the lake. It was the shape of a round inlet, with a platform for diving if you swim out to the middle. It dawned on me – A nude beach! I remember how scandalous this seemed growing up in Southern California, where you had to be careful about coming up on ‘hidden beaches’ when hiking along the coast.
Then there was the awkward moment that I admitted to having partaken in a nude event in the states, it was at a retreat that was being shared by a nudist group and we kinda of got swept up in the festivities. I was in a classroom, so there was embarrassed looks around the room, followed by curiosity from the other women when we took a break in the wash room.
Well, here, in Germany, was the place to let it all hang loose, without shame.
As if in a dream, everyone walked slowly along the paths interspersed with closely cut lawn. The men shouldered their towels just so much to shade their below parts, but leaving them exposed, which makes me wonder if the freedom is a taunt of masculinity or if they have been starving for air.
I had recently learned that palm trees are the ideal tree to grow in containers. As we’re in Hardiness Zone 6, they probably won’t grow well in the ground, but the park was covered with these handsome fronds, garnished with exotic flowers at the base.
Just across the way was the water park, broadcasting distant screams of children and teens plummeting down steep slides that lead into a gigantic whirl-pool or psychedelic avenue that once again narrows into a fast moving stream to take them to the bottom. My husband and I took turns with the kid. An indoor park with a giant pool that turned into an ocean-like wave every 30 minutes sat at the center.
Walking from this chaos over to the sauna, I know now that you should wear sandals into the sauna (because everyone does for some reason, hygiene?), and besides that, you only need a towel, but a bath-robe is really nice to have. Male and Female go nude in the changing room (it’s more like the entrance with cubicles), with more open nudity surprising me with the showers adjacent. (This was my first time in.)
But after the treehouse sauna mentioned above, I made my way to the lake, dipped my toes in still clutching the towel around my waist, and then after watching a nude man go by in to wade, decided to follow. Stepping my feet onto the sad clad with stones and algae or other waterborne plants, finally felt myself floating away in the green water, watching carefully as others joined with their nude bodies escaping into the coolness of the water.
Leaving the lake, next: the “Jaeger Sauna” with a strong smell of mushroom gravy that is my favorite on schnitzel dishes, or maybe it was more of a musk (but Jaeger sauce is seriously my favorite! Then to another sauna with a different smell. Then sensing the time, went back to the kid’s area to pass off the baton. After his turn, the impression, I asked; he said, “the tits.” Which is a double entendre given the presence of both heaven and human in the experience.
My second time in that day. I started with the crystal sauna bath. Something aromatic like mint, but breathing it in through the eyes, nose, and mouth, it felt as though I was glowing through those pores, with the feeling that my eyes had been transformed into glowing gems. Leaving the place, the air felt supremely cool. Just enough so to walk to the next, a place called “Maximus” which I may not have otherwise explored.
The walked in to a crowded room. Seeking a place distant from others (the suggestion was still 1.5 m), I found a spot on the upper bench. A few minutes later, realizing I was about to partake in something like a class, or at least an event, wondering what I had brought myself to. The speaker, in German, explaining the program, followed by clapping on the wooden benches signifying ‘yes’ by those seated.
In the center was a 3m by 1m lava rock container, or 12 ft by 3 ft. The proctor explains something I couldn’t understand by I knew I would find a challenge before me. Over the next 10 minutes, he progressively poured 4 whole wooden buckets over the coals, bringing the humidity to a climactic I would guess 120 F. I was third to leave the room. As I stood, the air hurt to move through, almost stumbling, turning towards the door held open by me by the previous exitor, leading to an open air shower, some standard issue, others a lever to turn over a bucket of drenching water. I stumbled over to the lawn to find a recliner.
Seated, sated, I discovered how to situate myself so that I can recline with my private parts obscured. The lawn chair sits on the ground with the knees up at an angle, with a simple pivot to bring the back lower, raising the legs so that the private parts sit behind a mountain of flesh. My upper torso was still exposed, but I didn’t care, I concentrated on the rapid heart beating, listening to others douse themselves in cold water; me, still laying down, feeling muscles decompose into stillness. A true nervous system relaxation.
The trees were calm, the sky overhead overcast, with delicate birds flying obliquely by. Upon cooling, I got up to go to the next lodge, again feeling the pounding of my blood flow signifying my heart adapting to the heat exchange from my sweating skin and the humid air.
Numerous other smaller but similar experiences: a sauna with the scent of oranges, or an aromatic floral boutique, the scent of sweet hay. And on the cold side, a shallow pool to walk the feet and calves through, a delicious sense of being hot above and cold below at the same time, followed by a warm pool with the cold feet tingling in response. A set of whirlpools that’s first cold, the the other, luke warm, sidelined by an underused ‘cald’ room to provide a tiled sitting place below ambient temperature with roman statues at the center and fake ivy.
I found myself craving the utmost relaxation of muscles. Earlier, on a flat bed on the beach, flipping over between naked front and back under the shaded sky, I had wondered what I was thinking about. Was it anything, or nothing, or both all at once? I couldn’t say, but perhaps acknowledge that I was still a bit self-possessed to feel self-conscious about how I walked with a towel wrapped around instead of fully nude.
The aching muscles, relaxing, having nothing to do but to unwind, to release. To disconnect from mind and the tensions of tendons. Feeling cooked. Tender. Sublime.
It was a paradise, a 5 acre plot dedicated to nudity at its best. A clean, pure, paradise. I’m definitely coming back here for my birthday, I said.
Waunder 