Having wrapped up two sublime sets at UNEUNA in Kitakobushi Shiretoko Hotel & Resort and spent a moment gazing at the twilight Okhotsk Sea from the rooftop, I reluctantly pulled myself together and got dressed. Time was not on my side. The day-trip bathing reception at KIKI Shiretoko Natural Resort — operated by the same group — closes at 6 p.m.
The short trip over was, in its own way, a rest. Feeling the Utoro breeze on my skin, I covered the brief distance and found myself standing at the entrance of KIKI Shiretoko Natural Resort. I handed my day-trip bathing ticket to a staff member and was guided toward the large communal bath. Passing through an open, casually styled lounge and taking in the hotel's bright, airy design, I made my way deeper inside. But the moment I opened the door to the bathing area, an entirely different world unfolded before me.
A dark interior bathed in black tones — and within it, something almost divine seemed to hover in the air. Through the large window at the front of the indoor bath, a garden spread out beyond, its green curtain of foliage casting exquisite shadows as light filtered through the glass. The shift from the bright lounge to this weightiness was total. Deliberate. Calculated to perfection. My anticipation surged.
Since I had already done two sets at Kitakobushi, I decided to take a quick shower and head straight for NEUNA.
KIKI Shiretoko is known for having fully renovated its large communal bath in 2023, giving birth to four uniquely distinct saunas under the direction of TTNE, led by the sauna enthusiast known as Totonoeparent. The men's and women's bathing areas rotate on an alternating schedule, and on this particular day, the men's side featured two saunas: NEUNA and the Whisking Sauna.
The moment I opened the door of NEUNA and stepped inside, both my eyes and my heart were taken captive by the beauty of the space. The room was gently rounded in form, with beautiful wooden panels arranged on the walls like tiles. But what caught my eye above all else was the wooden pillow placed on the bench. Yes — just as the name suggests, this sauna is designed with lying down in mind.
In Japanese saunas, lying down is often considered poor etiquette. But here, it is the right thing to do. The capacity is a compact three people, yet you are free to stretch out fully and release every bit of tension in your body. What's more, birch wood has been placed inside the room, filling the entire sauna with the scent I love so dearly. I must have looked ridiculous — pulling in a long, deep breath through my nose with a look of sheer bliss on my face.
I lay down on the bench. The temperature was around 85°C. I felt the warmth spreading evenly across my entire body, degree by degree. With every breath, the birch fragrance reached me, and I found myself moved by the sculptural beauty of the sauna itself. Remarkably, despite the high temperature of the room, the bench and pillow were not uncomfortably hot — I could lie there with ease. The design must be carefully engineered so that the wood doesn't overheat in proportion to the room temperature. And because lying down is the premise, even with other guests present, there's no need to worry about personal space. You can savor the sauna lying down, entirely at your leisure. Is there any greater luxury than this?
With enough heat stored up in my body, it was time for the cold plunge bath. KIKI Shiretoko holds its cold plunge bath to an uncommonly exacting standard.
The tub runs 120 cm deep — enough for a grown man to submerge himself completely, head and all. The water temperature hovered around 16°C: not brutally cold, not lukewarm, but perfectly calibrated. And what set my heart racing most was the existence of the WACCA button. WACCA — meaning "water" in the Ainu language — triggers a cascade of water that falls from above like a waterfall when pressed. It immediately brought to mind the MADMAX button I once experienced at Yurakkusu in Kumamoto.
I pressed the button. A waterfall crashed down over my head. From the neck down, I was submerged in the deep cold plunge bath. This double assault from above and below sent a jolt of exhilaration straight through the top of my skull. Every blood vessel in my body cinched tight all at once. The outdoor rest that followed was bound to feel extraordinary.
I moved through the passageway into the outdoor bath area. The garden was planted with birch and other trees, and the scent of wood and earth drifted through the open-air space.
Four benches were placed in the outdoor relaxation area. The arrangement, once again, was perfectly considered. Someone else might look at it and think: if you packed them in more tightly, couldn't you fit several more benches? But that's precisely the point. Leave generous space. Don't fill the emptiness. That, too, is a principle of great design.
At a quality establishment like KIKI Shiretoko, deliberately preserving that negative space — that conscious awareness of spatial beauty — elevates the experience to an entirely different level. Pack the area wall-to-wall with chairs as you might at an ordinary sento or sauna facility, and the quality of the space is compromised. It is precisely because only a limited number of people exist within that space that you can deeply focus on the silence, the natural scents, and above all, the state of your own body.
I sat on a bench, gazing at the beautiful garden and sky, listening to the natural sound of wind moving through the trees. Time with nothing I had to do. Time with nothing I had to think about. That alone was enough to fill my heart, deeply and completely.
For my second set, I headed to the Whisking Sauna.
Here, self-whisking with a vihta — a bundle of birch branches and leaves — is available. Water-soaked vihtas are placed at the entrance to the sauna room. The temperature was around 70°C, slightly lower than NEUNA — an unhurried, manageable warmth that heats the body slowly and thoroughly over time.
Once I had worked up a good sweat, I picked up the vihta and gave myself light taps from head to toe. The birch fragrance burst and spread across my entire body, and it felt absolutely wonderful. Perhaps the tapping had improved my circulation — I was sweating far more than I had expected. I returned to the deep cold plunge bath for another round of the WACCA button, cooled my body down, and enjoyed the outdoor air.
For my third and fourth sets, I returned to NEUNA without a moment's hesitation.
The beauty of the sauna room, the scent, the temperature, the humidity — in every single dimension, it struck my preferences with perfect precision. I wanted to stay in that space for even one second longer. That's the kind of place it was.
And so I made a deliberate choice: I would not do self-löyly. Pouring water on the stones would cause the perceived temperature to spike, raise my heart rate, and ultimately shorten my time in the sauna room. To stay in this magnificent sauna for even a second longer, I decided it was better to forgo the löyly and simply let the heat work on me slowly, quietly.
I love an intensely hot sauna too — but sometimes, this way of doing it is just as good. Alone in the empty sauna room, I found myself quietly daydreaming: someday, I'd love to build a sauna like this NEUNA. My ambitions just keep on growing.
I returned to Kitakobushi and sat down to a lavish dinner. It had been an outrageous experience — two of the finest saunas I'd ever visited, back to back, in a single day. Back in my room, writing in my diary on the bed, a heavy drowsiness gradually crept over me.
Today I had savored both UNEUNA and KIKI Shiretoko. And tomorrow morning, I would get to experience KAKUUNA — another highlight of Kitakobushi. I'd probably be awake by five at the latest. The moment I opened my eyes, I'd head straight for the large communal bath. What scenery would be waiting for me tomorrow?
Full of gratitude for the extraordinary richness of this one day, I slipped into a deep sleep.
