I think a trip begins not when you make the plan, but the moment you decide, “I’m going.”
A sauna trip to Nagasaki had been rattling around in my head for months. I listed the places I wanted to visit, pored over maps and daydreamed about routes. Up to that point, everything was perfect. But the dates never worked out. Neither did the budget. Every time I put it off with a “maybe next time,” Nagasaki slipped a little further away. Maybe the more time we spend preparing, the harder it gets to actually move.
The turning point came just two days before departure. I was idly browsing a website when I discovered I could stay at Hotel Nampuro, the destination of this trip, for a price so reasonable I had to look twice. An open-air bath overlooking the Ariake Sea, a sauna jutting out over the water, a cold plunge fed straight from a spring chosen as one of Japan’s 100 Exquisite Waters. This was the place I’d been gazing at longingly for months. Before I knew it, I was looking at the booking confirmation screen.
On Friday afternoon, I flew from Kobe Airport to Nagasaki Airport. A flight of just over an hour. At Nagasaki Airport I picked up a rental car and hit the gas toward Shimabara City.
After driving along the coast for a while, the sign for Hotel Nampuro jumped into view. I parked, checked in and tossed my bags into the room. Lying down on the bed was never an option. Brimming with an extraordinary level of motivation, I hurried to the main bathhouse.
Whenever I visit a place for the first time, my personal rule is to get a feel for the whole bathing area first. The indoor area has three saunas, an all-hinoki sauna, a meditation sauna for two and a steam room, plus a cold plunge, alongside spacious baths where you can soak in Shimabara’s natural onsen water. Step outside and there’s more: a natural onsen rock bath, a bubble bath, a reclining bath and others, every one of them facing the Ariake Sea. In other words, whichever bath you sink into, you get a sweeping view of the sea. And outside there’s a fourth sauna. It’s called Umi no Sauna, the Sea Sauna. A sauna where you can pour your own löyly while gazing at the sea.
And the cold plunges are something else. Shimabara has long been called the City of Water, and water polished by the mountains of Unzen wells up all over town. These Shimabara springs have been chosen as one of Japan’s 100 Exquisite Waters. Cold plunges fed straight from this famous water come in three temperatures: 14°C (57°F), 15°C (59°F) and 17°C (63°F). For someone like me who can’t resist a groundwater cold plunge, this is big news.
Just from checking out the setup, I was already sure I was in for something incredible.
I washed up and first lowered myself into the open-air natural onsen. The silky water clung to my skin. The sound of the Ariake Sea’s waves drifted out of the darkness, and the sea breeze brushed my cheeks. I could feel the fatigue of the plane and the drive, and the particular tension of a trip’s first day, slowly unravel in the water. Squinting, I could make out the scattered lights of a town on the far shore. Across the sea lies Kumamoto. My body was nicely warmed up. Right. Time to start the sauna.
For my first set, I went into the open-air Umi no Sauna. And I had it all to myself. I couldn’t help a little fist pump. The temperature was around 85°C (185°F), in an all-hinoki room that seats five or six. A big window juts out toward the sea, and the night-time Ariake Sea gazed quietly back at me. Since you can pour your own löyly, I wasted no time pouring water over the stones. With a sizzle, the toasty aroma of hojicha roasted green tea filled the whole room. The löyly water is hojicha. I closed my eyes and filled myself with the scent, from my nose to the bottom of my lungs. It was hot, yet there was a comfort to it, like sipping tea on a veranda. In my own private sauna, I slowly let my mind and body settle into totonou (the deep, clear-headed calm that comes after cycling through sauna, the cold plunge and cooling off in the open air).
Heated to my limit, I headed for the open-air infinity cold plunge. You walk down six steps from ground level and sink in, and beyond the water’s surface it looks as if it flows straight into the Ariake Sea. With every step, I had the illusion I was wading into the sea itself. The water was 14°C (57°F). Fed straight from the famous spring, it hit me with softness before it hit me with cold. Light. And soft. At the same time came that cool, tingly freshness in your pores that only good natural water gives you. It’s about 130 cm (4 ft 3 in) deep, so you can sink in right up to your shoulders.
Marveling at the water quality, I glanced to the side and spotted a button. I knew instantly what would happen if I pressed it. I pressed it without hesitation. In a flash, spring water came crashing down from above like a waterfall, straight onto the top of my head. “Whoa,” slipped out of me. Just soaking in the cold plunge was more than refreshing enough, and they’d even laid on a waterfall to stand under, like an ascetic in training. I bow to them.
The area for cooling off in the open air is so generous that you can’t decide where to sit, and every chair looks out over the sea. I moved to the deck near the cold plunge and collapsed onto a lounger. The wind off the night-time Ariake Sea gently wrapped my chilled body. Honestly, I hadn’t expected the water to feel this good. I’ve been in countless cold plunges all over Japan, and this is without a doubt among the very best.
For my second set, I went into the indoor meditation sauna. It’s a small room for two with a partition down the middle, so even if someone is next to you, you can enjoy the sauna in complete privacy. That said, once again there was nobody but me. Private again. Luck was on my side today. Here too you can pour your own hojicha löyly, so I started right away. The toasty aroma filled me from nose to lungs once more. The lighting is dim, and there’s no TV. A room made for meditating. In a silence that felt completely cut off from the real world, I just kept my eyes closed and just kept breathing in the hojicha. Sweat poured off me like a waterfall, as if all the gunk in my body were shooting out at incredible speed.
Next, the indoor cold plunge. This one is 15°C (59°F). But Shimabara’s spring water is so soft you don’t even feel the temperature. It doesn’t sting your skin at all. I was supposedly sitting in 15°C water, yet my whole body just let go. Relaxing in cold water. Such a strange feeling. Back outside in the Ariake Sea breeze, I was in a daze for a while.
For my third set, I went into the indoor all-hinoki sauna. It’s the biggest sauna here, with a TV, automatic löyly on the hour and half hour, and löyly you can pour yourself too. Which means every dry sauna in this place lets you pour your own löyly. I couldn’t help but feel an extraordinary devotion to the sauna. Wrapped in the lovely scent of hinoki, gazing absently at the TV, I took my time warming up to the core.
For the third cold plunge, I chose the other one outside. No chiller, just spring water flowing in at its natural temperature, in three urn-shaped tubs lined up in a row. The water was 17°C (63°F). I sank into one, and softness, smoothness, freshness and happiness all rushed in at once. The land of Shimabara was holding me, just as it is. I wanted to stay in this water forever. I could feel totonou reaching right down to the marrow.
For my fourth and final set, I went back to Umi no Sauna for more hojicha löyly, and finished crisply in the infinity cold plunge. That wrapped up the night’s sauna.
Still sprawled on a lounger on the deck, I let my mind wander. This Kyushu sauna trip was only on its first stop. And at the very first stop, I’d already hit my peak. What on earth was going to happen from here? Talk about a happy problem.
When I woke up, it was 6 a.m. On the bed in my room. Apparently I’d drifted off to dreamland at some point. I guess this is how someone sleeps after reaching full totonou (the deep, clear-headed calm that comes after cycling through sauna, the cold plunge and cooling off in the open air). But there was no time to lie around half-asleep. Shimabara mornings come with one plan I absolutely couldn’t miss. I had to take a morning bath while watching the sun rise over the Ariake Sea.
When I opened the door to the main bathhouse, a huge morning sun was showing itself across the Ariake Sea. The sea that had sunk into darkness last night was dyed gold. It was so beautiful I just stood there, stark naked, for a while. I eased into the open-air bath and simply watched the sunrise. I was taking in this special view while soaking in an onsen. A happiness almost too intense for a body that had just woken up. Truly, I’d call it the best morning bath of my life.
After that, I poured my own hojicha löyly in Umi no Sauna while gazing at the morning sea, soaked in the infinity cold plunge where you become one with the sea, and cooled off in the open air with the whole Ariake Sea in front of me. There lay a sea completely different from the night before, overflowing with light. I repeated this golden flow again and again, and wrapped up my stay at Hotel Nampuro.
Beautiful nature, plus onsen and sauna. I think a place that has both of these is the ultimate combination for human happiness. No matter how lavish the setup, if all you see out the window is the wall of a building, your heart just isn’t moved this much.
So, I already feel like I peaked at the trip’s first stop, but the trip has only just begun. From here I’m heading to the town of Tara in Saga Prefecture, to take in more stunning views of the Ariake Sea from a sauna. I’ve been there before, so this will be my second visit. The next destination is Kanigoten Ariakekai-no-Yu.
