A trip that started on impulse keeps going on impulse. This morning, after finishing 3 sets while watching the sea at SPA-SEN Taihei no Yu at the foot of the Akashi Strait, I decided to head to Wakayama. Shirahama fits perfectly with this trip's theme of bathing while gazing at the ocean. I floored it from Tarumi straight to Wakayama — about a two-and-a-half-hour drive, but with my spirits this high, it didn't feel long at all. It's my first time back in Wakayama since last summer, and as the landscape of the Kii Peninsula came into view again, a deep sense of homecoming washed over me. I checked into my hotel, rested for a bit, then headed to my destination for the evening: Nanki Shirahama Onsen Hotel Kawakyu. The moment I arrived, I was speechless. A palace. Or maybe a castle. Or ruins of some ancient civilization. Whatever it was, the scale of the structure before me was absolutely extraordinary. I already knew it had been built in 1991 at the height of the bubble economy with a total construction cost of 40 billion yen, but the real thing blew my imagination completely out of the water. The roof is covered with 470,000 Ruri tiles — the same kind used in Beijing's Forbidden City — and the exterior walls are composed of 1.4 million bricks of 73 different types, all made in Britain. But my body reacted before my brain could process any of those numbers. I stood there transfixed for a while, then decided to take a walk around the perimeter of the building. Walking around, I realized the hotel stands in a location virtually surrounded by the sea. The panoramic views of Shirahama's coastline are breathtaking from every angle. If you stayed here, you'd have this incredible view all to yourself from your room. I genuinely thought: I want to stay here someday. Stepping inside, I was overwhelmed again — this time by the interior. The ceiling dome of the entrance hall is covered with 190,000 sheets of 22.5-karat gold leaf, and each pillar is crafted from faux marble at a cost of 100 million yen per column, apparently. The floors are Roman mosaic tiles laid by hand by Italian craftsmen. At this point it's less a hotel and more a museum — and indeed, it actually functions as the Kawakyu Museum, displaying works by Dalí and Chagall. The whole space feels like a palace straight out of a movie, the kind of place that makes you think: everyone should stay here at least once in their life. I went to the front desk, told them I wanted to use the Royal Spa, and paid the fee. Hotel Kawakyu has two large communal baths: the Royal Spa on the second floor and Yukyuu no Mori on the first floor. That afternoon, men were assigned to the Royal Spa on the second floor. A truly royal experience was about to begin. The moment I stepped inside, even the changing area exuded luxury. The radiant floor heating was a delight, clearly in a different league from your average super sento. Moving into the main bath area, there was first a washing space, and beyond that, the indoor bath came into view. The space was unified in dark, moody lighting, with a lounge area designed to evoke the feeling of gathering around a fireplace. Drinks were available too — the whole layout was designed not just for bathing, but for savoring a drink, enjoying good company, and simply lingering. But the showstopper was the outdoor bath. Beyond the tub, fed by the celebrated Shirahama hot spring waters, a panoramic view of Shirahama's coastline spread out in all its glory. It was early evening, and the seascape was stunning. Gazing at that view, I felt genuinely proud of myself for deciding to come here today. I lowered myself into the outdoor Shirahama onsen. The pleasure of it was almost absurd. The warmth spread through my body with incredible intensity — I could actually feel the minerals seeping into every inch of me. This is what a celebrated hot spring is all about. It reminded me of visiting Arima Onsen. That time too, I remember being completely undone by the sheer power of the water itself. The view was so beautiful I didn't want to leave. I probably spent about 30 minutes cycling between soaking, stepping out to take in the scenery, and soaking again. Okay — time to get into the sauna. First set. I stepped into the sauna, which fits about 10 people, and was greeted by the scent of aroma. It has a self-service löyly setup, the lighting is consistently modern, and the atmosphere never breaks. The walls have something like rock salt embedded in them, and the warmth it generates feels exceptional. Since no one else was in there, I went ahead without hesitation and poured the löyly. Steam enveloped my whole body, and sweat burst out all at once. The cold plunge bath fits about 4 people and is at an ideal temperature of around 16°C. After thoroughly cooling my whole body, I headed to the outdoor rest area. In the space overlooking Shirahama's sea, the chairs were arranged perfectly. They recline fully flat, and the backrest angle is adjustable. What really surprised me was that bath towels were laid out right next to each chair. You can dry off before settling into your rest. That level of hospitality is genuinely remarkable. I lay back in the chair and gazed at the Shirahama seascape. The sun had sunk a little lower than before. How long did I stay like that? I had completely lost track of time. I'm pretty sure that by the time I started my second set, a full hour had already passed since I first stepped into the bath. The second set followed the same rhythm — sauna, cold plunge, then outdoor rest while gazing at the beautiful view. The sun kept setting. I drifted, emptied my mind, and soaked in the hot spring, and something about it made me feel naturally, quietly optimistic. Just staring at beautiful nature, words failed me, and time flowed by with nothing needing to be thought about at all. By the time I finished my third set, the sun had sunk well below the horizon, and night was closing in.

Gorgeous, luxurious, royal — I came to understand that these are words that should be saved for a place like this. That's exactly the kind of experience you can have here. If you look at it calmly, the hot spring, the sauna, the cold plunge bath, the rest area — none of the facilities are particularly extraordinary in themselves. But when you layer on top of that the location — the ocean view, the islands floating in the sea, the town visible along the coastline — the experience transforms into something else entirely. Location, it turns out, is its own kind of rare value. It was a space I never wanted to leave, but the time to say goodbye always comes. I sank back into the celebrated Shirahama hot spring waters and let the minerals soak into my body one last time. Feeling as though I were etching the memory into my very skin, I finally left the bath. I grabbed a meal nearby and returned to my hotel. I'd turn in early to rest up for tomorrow. The plan is to move on to Arita-cho and visit a place I've been curious about for a while: Aridagawa Onsen Hikari no Yu. This trip that started on impulse isn't over yet.