I finished work at 5 PM on Friday and set off. At this point, starting a sauna trip on Friday evening has become a regular ritual for me. And it's actually a really important one. Friday does mean the end of a workday, and sometimes I'm a bit tired. I've considered leaving on Saturday morning instead. But the problem with starting on Saturday is that I slip completely into off-mode, and before I know it, Sunday night arrives without me having stepped outside once. It's happened more times than I care to admit — days wasted in that zombie-like stupor, followed by regret. This time, my destination was Hakata. I drove from home to Utazu Station in Sakaide City, Kagawa Prefecture, then switched to a train to Okayama, and from there took the Shinkansen toward Hakata Station. I had dinner on the bullet train, mentally preparing myself for an evening of sauna. Since I almost never book a hotel in advance, I reserved a place for the night while riding the Shinkansen. The beauty of a trip lies in its lack of planning. By the time I'd taken care of everything and settled into my book, we were pulling into Hakata Station. I haven't been to Hakata since last July, but the city is as lively as ever. There's something in the air — a scent of desire and temptation. It was a Friday night, and Hakata was in full swing. Yet despite all that, I was walking with a specific destination in mind. Not an izakaya, not a soapland — Hotel Cabinas Fukuoka. My first stop on this Kyushu sauna trip. Hotel Cabinas Fukuoka sits in an unbeatable location just five minutes on foot from Hakata Station, with sauna facilities available 24 hours a day. There's also a capsule hotel attached, so you can stay the night. I checked in at the lobby, changed in the locker room, and headed to the main bath area. First, I eased myself into the mineral spring bath — an artificial hot spring that uses ore sourced from the deep sea of northern Finland. Whether it's the rich mineral content or something else, my body warmed up within just a few minutes. The high ceiling gave the space an open, airy feel, and both body and mind began to relax. Once I was warmed up, I moved into the sauna. The sauna room holds around 20 people, with a temperature of about 90°C. There are two stoves: an iki stove positioned in the center of the room, and a Rocky stove at one end. I found a spot right in front of one of the stoves, sat down, and slowly closed my eyes to let the fatigue of travel melt away. I was hoping for a quiet, meditative experience — but there was a middle-aged man nearby talking loudly to himself, and I couldn't help but grimace. Conversation is prohibited in the sauna; I wished he'd keep it down. What I didn't know yet was that this same man was about to cause me serious grief during the upcoming aufguss. After the sauna, it was time for the cold plunge. The cold bath fits about five people and is on the deeper side, so you can submerge your whole body. That said, the water temperature was around 19–20°C, which I found lacking. My ideal after-sauna cold plunge is around 15–16°C — once you're in that 19–20°C range, the refreshing shock drops off dramatically. I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that the water wasn't colder. After the cold plunge, I moved to the outdoor bath for some fresh air. From the open-air bath at Hotel Cabinas Fukuoka, you can look out over the area in front of Hakata Station. It reminded me of that famous scene from the classic Japanese anime Castle in the Sky, where the villain Muska declares, "People look just like garbage from up here." Looking upward, I could even see the stars — and despite being in the heart of the bustling city of Hakata, there was a sense of being somewhere else entirely. I continued cycling through sauna, cold plunge, and fresh air for a while. Just as I was thinking this next round would be my last, an announcement came: "We will now begin the aufguss session. Anyone who would like to participate, please enter the sauna room!" Since I was already there, I figured I might as well join. I settled into the upper bench and was focusing my attention as the session was about to begin — when the person sitting next to me got up and left right before the start. The seat beside me was now empty. And who should move into it but the loud man himself, seizing the moment as if to say, this is my chance. My bad feeling proved entirely justified. The aufguss style here was calm and understated — no music, just the sound of aromatic water being ladled onto the sauna stones and gently fanned around the room. You could take in the scent of the aroma and the rising steam in a peaceful atmosphere. Some aufguss events are high-energy with loud music, but I personally prefer the quiet style. Just as I was thinking, "Ah, this is really wonderful..." — a voice erupted right beside me: "AHHH! IT'S HOT! IT'S HOT! THIS IS... THIS IS HOT! AAAAAH! WHOAAA!" The atmosphere was completely shattered. A small noise I could forgive. This was almost a scream. The other bathers looked visibly annoyed. Being subjected to that kind of bizarre outburst right next to me was something I really could have done without. I was hoping he'd leave, but he showed no sign of going anywhere. In moments like this, things have a reliable way of going exactly opposite to what you want. Reluctantly, I was the one who got up and left.

I finished work at 5 PM on Friday and set off. At this point, starting a sauna trip on Friday evening has become a regular ritual for me. And it's actually a really important one. Friday does mean the end of a workday, and sometimes I'm a bit tired. I've considered leaving on Saturday morning instead. But the problem with starting on Saturday is that I slip completely into off-mode, and before I know it, Sunday night arrives without me having stepped outside once. It's happened more times than I care to admit — days wasted in that zombie-like stupor, followed by regret. This time, my destination was Hakata. I drove from home to Utazu Station in Sakaide City, Kagawa Prefecture, then switched to a train to Okayama, and from there took the Shinkansen toward Hakata Station. I had dinner on the bullet train, mentally preparing myself for an evening of sauna. Since I almost never book a hotel in advance, I reserved a place for the night while riding the Shinkansen. The beauty of a trip lies in its lack of planning. By the time I'd taken care of everything and settled into my book, we were pulling into Hakata Station. I haven't been to Hakata since last July, but the city is as lively as ever. There's something in the air — a scent of desire and temptation. It was a Friday night, and Hakata was in full swing. Yet despite all that, I was walking with a specific destination in mind. Not an izakaya, not a soapland — Hotel Cabinas Fukuoka. My first stop on this Kyushu sauna trip. Hotel Cabinas Fukuoka sits in an unbeatable location just five minutes on foot from Hakata Station, with sauna facilities available 24 hours a day. There's also a capsule hotel attached, so you can stay the night. I checked in at the lobby, changed in the locker room, and headed to the main bath area. First, I eased myself into the mineral spring bath — an artificial hot spring that uses ore sourced from the deep sea of northern Finland. Whether it's the rich mineral content or something else, my body warmed up within just a few minutes. The high ceiling gave the space an open, airy feel, and both body and mind began to relax. Once I was warmed up, I moved into the sauna. The sauna room holds around 20 people, with a temperature of about 90°C. There are two stoves: an iki stove positioned in the center of the room, and a Rocky stove at one end. I found a spot right in front of one of the stoves, sat down, and slowly closed my eyes to let the fatigue of travel melt away. I was hoping for a quiet, meditative experience — but there was a middle-aged man nearby talking loudly to himself, and I couldn't help but grimace. Conversation is prohibited in the sauna; I wished he'd keep it down. What I didn't know yet was that this same man was about to cause me serious grief during the upcoming aufguss. After the sauna, it was time for the cold plunge. The cold bath fits about five people and is on the deeper side, so you can submerge your whole body. That said, the water temperature was around 19–20°C, which I found lacking. My ideal after-sauna cold plunge is around 15–16°C — once you're in that 19–20°C range, the refreshing shock drops off dramatically. I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that the water wasn't colder. After the cold plunge, I moved to the outdoor bath for some fresh air. From the open-air bath at Hotel Cabinas Fukuoka, you can look out over the area in front of Hakata Station. It reminded me of that famous scene from the classic Japanese anime Castle in the Sky, where the villain Muska declares, "People look just like garbage from up here." Looking upward, I could even see the stars — and despite being in the heart of the bustling city of Hakata, there was a sense of being somewhere else entirely. I continued cycling through sauna, cold plunge, and fresh air for a while. Just as I was thinking this next round would be my last, an announcement came: "We will now begin the aufguss session. Anyone who would like to participate, please enter the sauna room!" Since I was already there, I figured I might as well join. I settled into the upper bench and was focusing my attention as the session was about to begin — when the person sitting next to me got up and left right before the start. The seat beside me was now empty. And who should move into it but the loud man himself, seizing the moment as if to say, this is my chance. My bad feeling proved entirely justified. The aufguss style here was calm and understated — no music, just the sound of aromatic water being ladled onto the sauna stones and gently fanned around the room. You could take in the scent of the aroma and the rising steam in a peaceful atmosphere. Some aufguss events are high-energy with loud music, but I personally prefer the quiet style. Just as I was thinking, "Ah, this is really wonderful..." — a voice erupted right beside me: "AHHH! IT'S HOT! IT'S HOT! THIS IS... THIS IS HOT! AAAAAH! WHOAAA!" The atmosphere was completely shattered. A small noise I could forgive. This was almost a scream. The other bathers looked visibly annoyed. Being subjected to that kind of bizarre outburst right next to me was something I really could have done without. I was hoping he'd leave, but he showed no sign of going anywhere. In moments like this, things have a reliable way of going exactly opposite to what you want. Reluctantly, I was the one who got up and left.