Where would I want to spend the final moment of my life?
It may have been the first time I’d ever seriously thought about it. And this was the night I found the answer.
After thoroughly refreshing body and mind at OND HOTEL that morning, I went back to my hotel and did nothing but rest, saving myself for the night. I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I did nothing. Doing nothing was the preparation for the night. Tonight I would be making a day visit to Rakan-no-Yu at Mifuneyama Rakuen Hotel.
Rakan-no-Yu is a place full of memories: I came here with my family this April. We walked through Mifuneyama Rakuen with the azaleas in full bloom, stayed at the hotel, and talked saunas nonstop over dinner. It’s also a sanctuary for me. After roaming from onsen to sauna all over Japan, this is the place I became convinced was the best in the country. Knowing just how incredible it is, there was no way I could come to Takeo and not visit. In fact, it’s no exaggeration to say I came to Takeo for this night.
I drove out of the darkened streets of Takeo toward the foot of Mount Mifune. At night the mountain had become a huge black shadow, only its edge against the sky faintly visible.
At 19:30 I arrived at the hotel. The moment the entrance doors opened, my journey into another world began. In the darkness, countless lamps created by teamLab glowed, filling the entrance with a dreamlike light. It was the same scene I’d seen six months earlier, yet it takes my breath away every time. I checked in amid the forest of lamps and headed for the main bathhouse.
Partway down the long corridor to the main bathhouse is the restaurant. Hotel guests were enjoying dinner with blissful looks on their faces. Glancing at them as I passed, I realized something. If the guests were absorbed in dinner, the main bathhouse would be empty. The corners of my mouth crept up. I must have had a wicked look on my face.
When I opened the door to the main bathhouse, there were only about five pairs of shoes in the shoe lockers. Once I stepped into the baths, my hunch turned to certainty. I practically had the place to myself. The legendary Rakan-no-Yu, almost all mine. I pumped my fist.
Rakan-no-Yu at night was something else.
The open-air bath was almost pitch black. Faint lights barely traced the outline of the bathing area, and steam from the Takeo Onsen water rose quietly into the night. The bonfire area and the café lounge were swallowed by darkness too, with only the flames of the bonfire blazing fiercely. On my April visit I’d bathed from early evening and never went back to the main bathhouse after dinner. So I’d had no idea the night world here could be this magical.
After washing up, I slowly lowered myself into the Takeo Onsen water of the open-air bath. The silky, soft water wrapped around my whole body. Listening closely in the dark, I could hear the trees rustling in the wind and the sound of flowing water. The rhythm of Mount Mifune at night. I gave myself over to that rhythm and warmed up for a while.
To be honest, I don’t remember what came next in any clear order. I savored Rakan-no-Yu’s prized saunas to the fullest, passed out cooling off in the open air around the bonfire, and between sets enjoyed drinks and snacks in the café lounge. Then back into the onsen or the sauna, cooling off by the bonfire, the lounge… I repeated that cycle forever.
For my first set, I went to the dry sauna, scented with hojicha.
I had this one to myself too. The beautifully designed sauna room is completely cut off from the outside world, with only the sounds of the Takeo forest playing quietly. In the dim space sits an iki stove. Beside it is hojicha from Ureshino, roasted and brewed specially for the sauna. I scooped some up with the ladle and poured it over the stones. With a sizzle, the rich aroma of hojicha filled the room. Since no one was around, I sniffed loudly and breathed it in as deeply as I could. No one watching, just the aroma and the sound. This, surely, is what luxury means.
Once I’d heated up to my limit, I headed to the outdoor cold plunge. It’s Takeo Onsen water chilled to 16°C (61°F), something you’ll only find at Rakan-no-Yu. It’s chilled onsen water, so of course it’s soft. The mellow cold water cooled my flushed body gently, but surely.
Out of the cold plunge, I climbed up to the bonfire area on the second floor. I had it to myself as well. When I lay down on the wooden deck, the smoky scent of the fire drifted over, and the crackle of popping firewood echoed through the dark. I looked up at the sky and matched my breathing to the rhythm of the forest. In, out, in again. Gradually, the boundary between me and the forest blurred. It went beyond totonou, that state of deep relaxation. It felt as if my very self was disappearing.
I have no idea how long I stayed like that. Next thing I knew, I was sitting around the fire in the café lounge, eating pudding. This space, too, was lit only by the glow of the fire.
For my second set, I headed to the wood-fired sauna.
Opening a door that felt like the entrance to a secret world, I found a beautifully sculpted staircase lit just right. Climbing it step by step, I found that enormous wood-burning stove waiting at the top. Our first reunion in six months. Long time no see, I told it silently. I hurled water at the gigantic stove with abandon. Pleasant steam spread through the room, quietly calming a mind that had been buzzing with the thrill of the trip. Once again I had it to myself, so I lay down on the bench and enjoyed my sauna stretched out flat. The heat of the wood fire slowly wrapped around my whole body. It felt absolutely amazing.
After that, I kept up the same rhythm: cold plunge, cooling off in the open air by the bonfire, a break in the lounge. My third set was the hojicha dry sauna again, my fourth the wood-fired sauna again. And amazingly, I had every single set to myself. The place I’m convinced is the best in Japan, all mine in the dark of night. That alone was nothing short of a miracle.
As I gazed at the bonfire in the dark, if something had dragged me off into the darkness and declared, “Your life ends at this moment,” I think I could have answered, “I have no regrets,” having had an experience this sublime. That’s the kind of time it was. You may think that’s a morbid thing to say. But it was a night that made me truly feel that way. If I could choose, I’d want to spend the final moment of my life here.
What makes Rakan-no-Yu so special? For me, it’s that the longer you stay, the more you feel you don’t want to leave the main bathhouse, don’t want to go home. At other places, no matter how good it feels, at some point you start thinking, “Maybe it’s time to get out.” But at Rakan-no-Yu alone, the opposite happens. The longer you stay, the less you want to leave. The wealth of onsen and saunas, a world rich in nature surrounded by the forest of Mount Mifune, the refined café lounge, and the bonfire space. All of it comes together, and there’s something about this place that makes you want to stay forever.
But, cruelly, 22:00, the cutoff for day bathers, arrived. Without a time limit, I could have spent the whole day in the main bathhouse. It wasn’t so much that something was tugging at my hair from behind as that it was ripping it out by the roots as I left the main bathhouse.
I went back to the parking lot and got into the car. But I couldn’t start the engine. The afterglow of such an incredible experience kept me from driving off for a while. In the dark car, I stared vacantly through the windshield at the shadow of Mount Mifune at night.
Meanwhile, my hands were moving on their own. Before I knew it, my phone screen said Booking complete. I had booked a day visit for the next morning.
In the morning session, the men’s bath and the women’s bath swap. A completely different world from tonight should be waiting for me: a white sauna fragrant with Kugel aroma.
Tomorrow morning, the last day of my trip, I’ll be coming back here once again.
