“But then coming here and building my tolerance to be able to do it for a few minutes, I think I get more of an immediate pain relief from that than the heat.”
The possibility of pain relief motivates me to test my threshold for the ice bath – 7 degrees colder than the last cold plunge I tried – during a week-long trial of Vikasati.
A traditional Turkish bathhouse, called a hammam. Credit: mgstudyo
While ice baths are a trend of the past decade, communal bathing has existed for hundreds of years, stretching back to Neolithic times, when nomadic tribes kicked back after a big hunt in natural hot springs.
Public bathing was adopted by the Romans around 300 BC, which influenced Turkish baths (hammams) in the 15th century, a cultural activity that is still practised today.
Loading
Japan has onsens, Korea jimjilbangs and Russia banyas, while Nordic countries are well known for their saunas.
It’s been interesting to observe the emergence of bathhouse culture in Australia, especially in south-east Queensland, a region that’s leading the movement.
“I feel like we’re still on the early-adopter curve,” says Vikasati co-founder Will Murphy, pointing to the low number of bathhouses in other states and cities.
Brisbane alone has more than half a dozen, including “one of the world’s most luxurious bathhouses” opening in Albion next weekend.
The Bathhouse Albion, equipped with hot and cold pools, ice baths, saunas, a float room and relaxation lounge, is architecturally designed with travertine stone finishes mimicking the opulence of European bathhouses.
An annual “lifestyle membership” there will set you back $10,000, with casual sessions priced between $59 and $119. It’s par for the course, but not exactly the democratic view of bathhouses popularised by cultures elsewhere.
The Bathhouse Albion is marketing itself as “one of the most luxurious bathhouses in the world”. Credit: The Bathhouse Albion
Vikasati is better aligned with this democratic ideal. Their cross-section of members – young and old, who are invested in wellness or simply finding a moment of peace in an otherwise busy day – exemplifies what an Australian take on bathhouse culture could be.
“For a long time, bathhouses have only been accessible to people who go to a five-star hotel or go on a retreat, or who have a bit of money,” Murphy says.
Naturally, the explosion of wellness culture – an industry worth an estimated $US4.3 trillion globally – has helped propel the popularity of bathhouses like Vikasati. But Murphy says it’s not just already healthy people who use the facilities.
Loading
“It’s people who value being healthy,” he says. “So they might be on their journey, or they’re wanting to put themselves in that environment of healthier people.”
I approach wellness culture with a healthy dose of scepticism: it’s a largely unregulated industry that leans on a lot of quasi-science.
But having been to a traditional Turkish hammam, a strange but glorious giant spa world in San Sebastian, and several Japanese onsens, I love the idea of Australia having its own bathhouse culture.
What you experience at Vikasati is akin to what exists in other countries. It’s a welcoming, non-judgmental place. It removes people from the pressures of life for an hour or so, and there’s a real sense of community, whether people are using it for stress relief, pain management, wellbeing or relaxation.
We are due for a concept like this, and it’s nice to see south-east Queensland leading the way.
The author was a guest of Vikasati.