On a sauna trip, uncontrollable impulses always lead to unplanned detours. Before a trip begins, there are facilities I never intended to visit — yet somehow I find myself walking through their doors. No matter how much I try to stick to the plan, my body acts on its own. That's exactly what happened with Yunohana Sento Zuisho Matsumoto-kan on this particular day. After a morning sauna and breakfast at Shinshu Kenkou Land, I took the train from Murai Station to Matsumoto Station. It was the final day of the trip. The main destination was Ringo no Yuya Obu~. Zuisho Matsumoto-kan was only supposed to be a casual walk-by — just a quick look at the exterior on the way. I had already heard the information: natural underground water from the Northern Alps flows continuously into a massive cold plunge bath. It had been on my radar. But the plan was strictly to look from the outside and keep moving. Stepping off the train at Matsumoto Station, the Northern Alps loomed close and imposing. The famous Kamikochi is just beyond. I started walking toward Zuisho Matsumoto-kan, gazing at those magnificent mountains. I arrived in front of the facility. Against the backdrop of the Northern Alps, a facade that looked like a traditional hot spring inn came into view. In that instant, I was already ducking through the noren curtain before a single thought had formed. My body moved on its own. The cold plunge bath fed with Northern Alps groundwater was right there, beyond that curtain. Knowing that and simply walking past was something my body refused to allow. This is the true essence of a sauna trip — unplanned encounters sometimes bring the greatest experiences. Even at this morning hour, there were quite a few people. It seems the facility opens at 6 a.m. on weekends, and this area may simply have many early-morning bath enthusiasts. I picked up a rental towel at the front desk and headed to the main bath area. The interior was remarkably clean. Entering the bathing area, I found it larger than expected. The indoor section had a high-temperature sauna, the signature groundwater flow-through cold plunge bath, a rock bath using transported water from Kamiyamada Onsen, and a jet bath. Stepping out to the open-air area, there were tub baths, a resting space, yet another groundwater flow-through cold plunge bath, and a low-temperature sauna. A thoroughly impressive lineup. I rinsed off and warmed up in the indoor Kamiyamada Onsen bath. The soothing quality of the natural hot spring spread through my entire body. Then into the high-temperature sauna. It was a far-infrared gas-type sauna, and on the television, the national high school baseball tournament was playing. Watching the heated matches between young athletes out of the corner of my eye, I let my body warm up slowly and thoroughly. When I hit my limit, I plunged into the cold bath. Honestly, I had not expected it to feel this good. It was wide. It was deep. Water depth: 110 cm. Northern Alps groundwater poured through at a tremendous rate. And there was a sign: diving permitted. Without hesitation, I dove under. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I was enveloped in natural water from the Northern Alps. The moment my face broke the surface, a wave of exhilaration surged through my entire body. Width, depth, water quality, temperature — everything was at Japan's top level. If there were a sento like this near my home, I would be there every morning and every evening. I am genuinely, deeply envious of the residents of Matsumoto. If you love cold plunge baths, just trust me and try it at least once. I left the cold bath, moved to the open-air area, and let my whole body sink into a reclining chair. The exhilaration just kept going. There are saunas and sentos near where I live too, but water this good is hard to come by. I may need to seriously consider relocating to Matsumoto. Second set. I wanted to do ten, but the next destination was waiting. This was the last set. Precisely because there were so few sets, I would savor every drop of this extraordinary water without wasting a moment. I entered the high-temperature sauna again. It was a far-infrared gas type, yet the air was not dry at all. The humidity was high, there was no stinging sensation on the skin, and I could sweat in just the right way. This humidity level might be deliberately managed. I heated my body to its limit and plunged once more into the cold bath. I submerged my entire body in the exquisite Northern Alps water — head included, of course. Then I floated. Could anything feel better than this? I had only planned to glance at the exterior and walk on, yet this experience was waiting for me. I am so glad I came. Two sets, and I was done. I didn't want to leave. I really, truly didn't want to leave. I could have done five more sets. But lingering here would mean not making it to the next facility. On a sauna trip, that kind of decisiveness is sometimes what it takes.

On a sauna trip, uncontrollable impulses always lead to unplanned detours. Before a trip begins, there are facilities I never intended to visit — yet somehow I find myself walking through their doors. No matter how much I try to stick to the plan, my body acts on its own. That's exactly what happened with Yunohana Sento Zuisho Matsumoto-kan on this particular day. After a morning sauna and breakfast at Shinshu Kenkou Land, I took the train from Murai Station to Matsumoto Station. It was the final day of the trip. The main destination was Ringo no Yuya Obu~. Zuisho Matsumoto-kan was only supposed to be a casual walk-by — just a quick look at the exterior on the way. I had already heard the information: natural underground water from the Northern Alps flows continuously into a massive cold plunge bath. It had been on my radar. But the plan was strictly to look from the outside and keep moving. Stepping off the train at Matsumoto Station, the Northern Alps loomed close and imposing. The famous Kamikochi is just beyond. I started walking toward Zuisho Matsumoto-kan, gazing at those magnificent mountains. I arrived in front of the facility. Against the backdrop of the Northern Alps, a facade that looked like a traditional hot spring inn came into view. In that instant, I was already ducking through the noren curtain before a single thought had formed. My body moved on its own. The cold plunge bath fed with Northern Alps groundwater was right there, beyond that curtain. Knowing that and simply walking past was something my body refused to allow. This is the true essence of a sauna trip — unplanned encounters sometimes bring the greatest experiences. Even at this morning hour, there were quite a few people. It seems the facility opens at 6 a.m. on weekends, and this area may simply have many early-morning bath enthusiasts. I picked up a rental towel at the front desk and headed to the main bath area. The interior was remarkably clean. Entering the bathing area, I found it larger than expected. The indoor section had a high-temperature sauna, the signature groundwater flow-through cold plunge bath, a rock bath using transported water from Kamiyamada Onsen, and a jet bath. Stepping out to the open-air area, there were tub baths, a resting space, yet another groundwater flow-through cold plunge bath, and a low-temperature sauna. A thoroughly impressive lineup. I rinsed off and warmed up in the indoor Kamiyamada Onsen bath. The soothing quality of the natural hot spring spread through my entire body. Then into the high-temperature sauna. It was a far-infrared gas-type sauna, and on the television, the national high school baseball tournament was playing. Watching the heated matches between young athletes out of the corner of my eye, I let my body warm up slowly and thoroughly. When I hit my limit, I plunged into the cold bath. Honestly, I had not expected it to feel this good. It was wide. It was deep. Water depth: 110 cm. Northern Alps groundwater poured through at a tremendous rate. And there was a sign: diving permitted. Without hesitation, I dove under. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I was enveloped in natural water from the Northern Alps. The moment my face broke the surface, a wave of exhilaration surged through my entire body. Width, depth, water quality, temperature — everything was at Japan's top level. If there were a sento like this near my home, I would be there every morning and every evening. I am genuinely, deeply envious of the residents of Matsumoto. If you love cold plunge baths, just trust me and try it at least once. I left the cold bath, moved to the open-air area, and let my whole body sink into a reclining chair. The exhilaration just kept going. There are saunas and sentos near where I live too, but water this good is hard to come by. I may need to seriously consider relocating to Matsumoto. Second set. I wanted to do ten, but the next destination was waiting. This was the last set. Precisely because there were so few sets, I would savor every drop of this extraordinary water without wasting a moment. I entered the high-temperature sauna again. It was a far-infrared gas type, yet the air was not dry at all. The humidity was high, there was no stinging sensation on the skin, and I could sweat in just the right way. This humidity level might be deliberately managed. I heated my body to its limit and plunged once more into the cold bath. I submerged my entire body in the exquisite Northern Alps water — head included, of course. Then I floated. Could anything feel better than this? I had only planned to glance at the exterior and walk on, yet this experience was waiting for me. I am so glad I came. Two sets, and I was done. I didn't want to leave. I really, truly didn't want to leave. I could have done five more sets. But lingering here would mean not making it to the next facility. On a sauna trip, that kind of decisiveness is sometimes what it takes.