Japan: a country synonymous with high-speed bullet trains, sumo wrestling, cherry blossoms and sushi presents visitors with plenty of glitzy bling for their travel rings. It transcends mere superficiality and takes willing participants on a journey from the quirky and bizarre to the beautifully captivating. It was in Honshu’s Osaka that I unearthed a peculiar side to Japanese culture I never knew existed.
Osaka's Concrete Jungle
Home to nearly nine million inhabitants, spending a day exploring Osaka – one of Japan’s geographically smaller cities - can be tiring. Despite a ceaseless procession of courteous smiles and genial nods, the feeling of suffocation by means of congestion can sometimes be overwhelming. Escape is key and, in a city packed with secret haunts, private hideaways and tranquil manmade environments, getting away from the concrete jungle is not a mere fantasy.
Hotel Public Bathroom Signs
Before escaping, though, physical refreshment was required. The humidity created by proximity to other humans coupled with a moist climate makes the skin fester with impurity. As such, I made haste for Hotel Chuo’s main bathroom and entered without reading any instructions.
Unsurprisingly yet shocking to me, men – both Japanese and those visiting from non-oriental countries – were scattered through the room going about their business in various states of immodest undress. I retracted my steps, left the room and looked closely at the door through which I’d entered: ‘Public Bathroom’ read the sign visibly plastered at eye-level across the entrance. ‘For Men: 16:00-20:00; 22:15-23:30.’ As my heart pounded through my chest, I was thankful I’d not barged in at the designated time for female guests.
Naked Bodies Washing in Unison
Returning to the bathroom - sliding in with an ounce of trepidation, I kept my eyes focussed downwards, undressed stealthily and wrapped a towel tightly around my waist. Adjacent the spa tub nearly overflowing with steaming water was a wall of showers: sitting on stools side by side, nude bodies lathered soap and drowned themselves in a steady downpour of hot water. As a freshly cleaned nude body made haste for the clean water of the spa, a stool became free.
I sat with hesitancy, modesty preserved by the tight embrace of the white towel and followed the pattern set by other bathers. I gradually loosened the towel and let it hang over the front of the stool. As the water poured over my head – coursing down my back and swirling cyclonically into the drain below, the shame I’d initially felt at being naked in the company of others gradually dissipated. We were all there with the same intent: to remove the soils of the city’s impurity.
Minutes later, I joined other guys in the large white tub. The process of washing then relaxing in the tub had been correctly observed, commendation confirmed by means of a head nod from the Japanese receptionist almost completely submerged in the water on the other side. Genial conversation ensued, as body types of assorted variety gradually pruned.
Visiting Spa World in Osaka
Imbued with a sense of confidence, I heeded the advice of the companionable receptionist and walked around the block the next morning to Spa World. Situated in a multi-storey building, it’s a theme park dedicated to the Japanese Onsen.
Traditionally, Onsens – Japanese hot springs derived from geothermal heated origins – were outdoor pools utilised for public bathing. To keep in step with the times – and tourism, establishments such as the large Spa in Osaka have transformed the notion into a national enterprise while retaining fragments of tradition.
Following Onsen Etiquette
After paying a fee, I proceeded up the elevator, destination: European zone. Split across several levels, the designers have created two zones representative of contrasting parts of the world: Europe and Asia. It was men’s day to escape Japan and relax in Europe.
I found a locker, removed my clothing – dropping it ungracefully inside - and stretched the vestige of a towel from my right hip around the front to my buttocks and got it half way across the right cheek before it screamed to a halt. Despite fervent attempts, it would not stretch any further. It became strikingly obvious that it hadn’t been designed with the frames of non-oriental men in mind.
Disinhibited Onsen Nudity
Coyly avoiding eye contact with the reception staff, I passed through the turnstile and stopped: men, wet towels hanging brashly over their respective shoulders, passed by wearing nothing other than bare skin. Various shapes and unmentionable sizes paraded from room to room, unequivocally swinging their disinhibition before their naked counterparts.
Despite the presence of several clothed Japanese women around the grandly adorned main entrance, the atmosphere remained calm and relaxed. Every now and again, however, a nude man would pass by, lost in a daydream, until the shrill of a female voice shouting “massage” pierced the tranquil air. Suddenly and faster than lightning, his tiny towel moved to a medial position aligned to preserve a shred of dignity. Momentarily, it made me wonder whether clothed men behaved similarly on the floor in which women paraded around in their birthday suits?
Spa World Indulgence
As I moved from Ancient Rome to Greece then on to Finland, I became less concerned with dignity and shifted my attention to pure indulgence. Each spa, surrounded by architectural representations of the European country it embodied, exuded charm and sophistication. The water, apparently filled with minerals of various assortment, brushed over my skin like a silky sheet on a balmy summer’s night.
While men were sitting in groups, fathers talking to sons, friends laughing among themselves and others enjoying momentary solitude, I closed my eyes and floated. There was no better way to escape the city’s congestion than by spending a day soaking in mineral goodness and absorbing the opulent atmosphere at Osaka’s Spa World.
