I woke up at 5 a.m. The previous day had been the first day of my Hokkaido sauna trip, and after soaking in the finest hot springs, sauna sessions, cold plunge baths, and the magnificence of untouched nature, I had collapsed into bed and lost consciousness before I even knew it.
When I woke up, I felt in perfect shape. Whenever I go on sauna trips, I often notice that I feel far better during and after the journey than before it began. This time too, on only the second morning, that phenomenon was already unmistakably present. I could feel energy welling up from the very depths of my body.
Now, there was only one thing to do upon waking: head to the large communal bath. Midorinokaze Resort Kitayuzawa opens its large bath as early as 4 a.m., so it was already in operation. The previous night had been the "Hamon" (Ripple) area, but in the morning the men's and women's sections switch, allowing guests to use the "Mizusuji" (Water Vein) area. A sauna space with an entirely different concept from last night's "Hamon" was waiting for me.
I strode cheerfully into the changing room, only to find a single slipper sitting on the floor. Good grief. Was there actually someone who had woken up earlier than me and was already in the sauna? I felt a twinge of frustration as a fellow sauna enthusiast, but I shook it off, got changed in the spacious locker room, and stepped into the large bath.
The interior layout of the large bath — with its giant tubs lined up — was much the same as the night before. Since I was curious about the new sauna, I decided to peek inside. The space had a completely different atmosphere from last night's black-themed "Hamon" — it was a soft, gentle space wrapped in bright, natural wood. Inside, a distinguished older gentleman with the air of a sage sat cross-legged in meditation. He was the formidable soul who had beaten me to the bath. Having gotten a look at things, I decided to first cleanse myself and enjoy the morning hot spring.
After warming up in the indoor bath, I moved to the outdoor bath on the first floor. The outdoor bath on the "Mizusuji" side is somewhat smaller than the one on the "Hamon" side from the night before. Small is relative, of course — by any normal standard it would rank among the largest in Japan, but last night's outdoor bath had been so staggeringly large that my sense of scale was completely broken.
I waded out to the very center of the wide rock bath and warmed myself while gazing up at the clear morning sky and the birch forest. At this moment, I was the only person in this vast outdoor space. What an extraordinary luxury. The contrast between the cold morning air and the warm hot spring water gently roused every sleeping cell in my body.
When I returned from the outdoor bath to the indoor bath, a few more guests had arrived — and the sage was already gone. It was time to enter the "Mizusuji" sauna.
The moment I opened the door, the pleasant scent of natural wood and a gentle warmth wrapped around me. The temperature display read 80°C, with humidity held at around 50%. The three-tiered bench could comfortably fit fifteen to twenty people. The lighting inside was calm and subdued, and there was a beautiful feature on the wall opposite: water flowed along copper pipes running along the wall and poured into a water basin set within a round wooden frame. The water overflowing from the basin then streamed onto an iron plate above the stove, creating the auto-löyly.
The wood used throughout the sauna was finely and beautifully crafted — the seat surfaces, the walls, every surface you looked at showed refined design. I sat alone in that space, with the entire room to myself, slowly warming my body. I felt the movement of water through sight, through sound, through the sensation on my skin. This was truly a sauna worthy of the name "Mizusuji" — Water Vein.
In the first set of a morning sauna, sweat always comes slowly. That's because the body's cells haven't fully awakened yet. But there's no need to rush. Sitting quietly in the sauna, droplets of sweat gradually, steadily began to surface. At the same time, I could feel my body coming alive from within. My heart rate climbed, and just as I was nearing my limit, it was time for the cold plunge.
Out of the sauna and into the cold plunge bath. The water temperature was around 17°C — about 1°C lower than it had been the previous evening. Since the water is drawn from a natural stream near the headwaters of the river running close to the hotel, it varies with the outside temperature. That, too, is a quality unique to natural water — something you won't find in a mechanically chilled bath. I lowered myself into the soft, crystalline water and slowly cooled the body I had heated in the morning sauna. There was no sharp sting whatsoever — just supreme, lingering comfort that made me feel I could stay in forever.
After the cold plunge, it was time to revisit the meditation room "Zen," which I had also experienced the night before, for a taste of traditional Indian therapy.
I entered the dim, private room kept at around 15°C and lay face-up on a cushioned mat. From a vessel installed above my head, cold drops of water fell one by one — plop, plop — onto my forehead. Inspired by the Indian practice of Shirodhara, this form of inner bathing cleared the mental noise with each drop that struck my brow, bringing my thoughts to an extreme clarity. The cool air and the gentle stimulation of the water droplets sharpened all five senses and drew me toward a state of complete emptiness.
With my mind and body fully reset, I moved on to the second set.
This time, I was lucky enough to catch the auto-löyly, which activates at the top and bottom of each hour. The water vein along the copper pipes caught the light, and the water overflowing from the basin was poured onto the stove. With a satisfying hiss, steam carrying the fragrance of natural wood softly enveloped the entire room. Morning light. The beautiful movement of water along its vein. Supreme heat. Savoring all of it through every sense, I repeated my rounds of the cold plunge and Shirodhara meditation. By the time I finished the third set, my body and mind had achieved a perfect awakening.
After finishing my morning sauna, it was time for the long-awaited breakfast. I enjoyed the buffet at the same open, airy restaurant as the night before, with its large windows overlooking the birch forest. I steadily replenished the energy burned in the morning sauna with fresh Hokkaido ingredients. The essence of a hot spring and sauna trip is this: burn a lot in the sauna, eat plenty of delicious food, sleep deeply to store up energy, and keep improving your condition. Right now, that cycle was spinning in perfect harmony.
With that, my time at Midorinokaze Resort Kitayuzawa came to an end. There was nothing left undone. I etched these wonderful experiences into my heart and set off for the next destination.
So, where to next? The destination was already decided.
My next stop is Hokkaido's most famous hot spring resort — a miraculous place boasting some of Japan's greatest name recognition and popularity, renowned as a "department store of hot springs" for the extraordinary variety of spring types that bubble up from its ground. And there, beyond the chance to enjoy that diverse selection of free-flowing natural hot spring baths, there exists a facility housing a sauna said to be of the "ultimate level."
Noboribetsu Onsen is home to numerous hotels and facilities with saunas, and I had researched every single one of them in advance. Among all those celebrated establishments, I had judged one to stand head and shoulders — no, two heads — above the rest, and that is where I was now headed.
I've been going on too long with the preamble, so let me just say the name.
The next destination is Noboribetsu Grand Hotel. What kind of sauna experience awaits in that land said to be inhabited by demons? My Hokkaido sauna journey was heating up even further.
