There is a thrill to opening a new door, but there is also something deeply moving about opening a familiar one again.
This week's hot spring journey was a little different from usual. Normally I seek out new places, but this time I decided to revisit hot spring facilities I used to frequent when I lived in this area long ago.
My destination: Meito Takarayu. I've lost count of how many times I've been here. Back when I lived in Hyogo Prefecture ten years ago, this was the place I considered the finest of them all. Takarayu is a celebrated spa where you can enjoy source water on par with Arima Onsen, one of Japan's premier hot spring resorts. The golden waters flow without pause, and just soaking in them is enough to mend illness and restore the body. That is the kind of powerful hot spring this place offers. Ten years ago, whenever I was exhausted, I would always come here and sink into the water to heal. Time has passed since then, and now — nearly a decade later — I was back. I pulled into the parking lot with a heart full of anticipation.
Arriving at the facility, I noticed the sauna appeared to have been renovated, but the exterior and interior were otherwise unchanged. While so many places now use automated check-in, the ticket machine at the entrance was still exactly the same as before. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, and something warm and quiet stirred in my chest.
And the exquisite hot spring continues to well up, unchanged. Reading the facility's description, I learned that in the case of Arima, seawater from 70 million years ago took 6 million years to rise to the surface. The place where it emerges sits directly on the Arima-Takatsuki Tectonic Line, and the source water of Takarayu — the Ougon-sen, or "Golden Spring" — is said to have nearly identical mineral properties to Arima Onsen itself. This is a gift from nature that took an incomprehensibly longer time than any human life. I feel a deep reverence for hot springs. Unable to contain my excitement at the prospect of soaking in this miraculous water that rises naturally from 800 meters underground, I made my way to the bathing area.
I changed and stepped into the bathing room. Nothing had changed. I had always loved the atmospheric open-air bath. It still had that same charm. The sauna appeared to have been renovated, now offering a Finnish-style sauna with an automatic löyly function — a wonderful upgrade that allows for comfortable sweating in temperatures between 80°C and 90°C.
But when you come here, the main event is soaking in the legendary open-air source water. I cleansed myself first, then headed to the outdoor source bath. The golden water is so mineral-rich that you can't see the bottom of the tub at all. To avoid bumping into other bathers, it feels like feeling your way through a pitch-dark cave.
The moment I lowered myself into the storied waters, I was struck by the illusion that my body had become part of nature itself. It felt as though the water was whispering, "This is where you belong." The tension drained from every muscle, and the fatigue stored in my cells seemed to melt away (or at least that's how it felt — though honestly, since I've been doing so many saunas and hot springs lately, I wasn't particularly tired to begin with, ha). After just a few minutes of soaking, my body warmed through steadily and my pulse quickened. Because the mineral concentration is so high, you can reap the full benefits without a long soak. A truly great hot spring warms your body so thoroughly that you can head straight to the cold plunge bath without even stepping into the sauna.
This reminded me of a similar experience I had at Arima Onsen. Last year, when I visited Taikono-yu — one of the finest facilities in Arima — I only entered the sauna once, and spent everything else rotating between the hot spring and the cold plunge bath.
From the hot spring, I moved directly to the outdoor cold plunge bath to cool down. It was spacious and deep enough to fully submerge, and it snapped my flushed body back into sharpness. Then I settled into a reclining chair in the open-air area. As I gazed at the atmospheric outdoor bath, an airplane crossed the sky overhead. I hadn't used the sauna at all, yet a wave of something that felt even better was washing over me. That is the power of a great hot spring.
For sauna enthusiasts, the cycle of sauna → cold plunge → rest is non-negotiable. But I also carry the title of hot spring enthusiast (self-proclaimed), which means I've developed an equally valid cycle: hot spring → cold plunge → rest. And at places worthy of the name meito — celebrated hot springs — my way is to prioritize the water over the sauna.
So for the second round, I skipped the sauna again and returned to the golden waters. Then I warmed up and went to the cold plunge. I repeated this with a clear and empty mind four times over.
Sauna devotees may be displeased with me, but at Takarayu, I did not do a single sauna set. That is simply how extraordinary the hot spring was. It was a visit filled with nostalgia after ten years away, and a time that reminded me all over again of just how remarkable a great hot spring can be.
Thoroughly steamed by the exquisite hot spring, I found myself quite hungry. Time to eat something good and recharge.
I had a meal at the restaurant inside the facility and began thinking about what to do next. It was still only midday, so I could easily kill some time and visit another place in the evening. But I couldn't think of anywhere that could top this experience.
One of my personal principles is what I call the peak-end rule. Ending a journey at its peak is what makes the whole day — and the trip as a whole — truly memorable. So even when time allows for more, if I've had a genuinely exceptional experience, I call it there. And so, this would be my final stop for this trip.
I've visited a great many facilities over the years, but the ones I've actually returned to are surprisingly few. Yet there are countless places I want to revisit. Going forward, a journey built around the theme of returning might be a wonderful thing. With that thought in mind, I drove back toward my home in Tokushima. Until next time.
