Naked travel hack for brave Aussie tourists

There’s a fun way to pass the time in one of the world’s busiest airports – the catch is, you have to nude up among your fellow travellers.

Having visited twice, 16 years apart, Japan is firmly my favourite of the countries I’ve travelled to over the years.

To me, the appeal of the country is the ability to immerse yourself in a culture so foreign to ours … and there’s no better way to do that than to immerse yourself in a hot bath. Onsens are everywhere – in hotels, in towns dedicated to hot spring bathing, and in little neighbourhood back lanes, hidden behind unassuming doors.

And on my most recent visit to Japan, one of the more impressive onsens I set foot in was moments from one of the world’s busiest airports, making it an ideal way to pass time for any Tokyo travellers with a few hours to spare.

But more on that soon. First, to address the elephant in the room: Save for a flannel, an onsen is a naked experience. This may not be for you, and that’s fine. But even if you are a bit apprehensive, I’d encourage you to give it a go: It’s amazing how quickly you get comfortable.

The open-air onsen at Villa Fontaine Grand, Haneda Airport. Picture: Villa Fontaine Grand website

Having said that, it can be a culture shock. The onsen process – and like so many things in Japan, it is a process – can be intimidating for foreign visitors. Depending on how local the onsen you visit is, even finding English instructions might prove difficult, so here’s a quick breakdown of how your typical onsen experience plays out:

Step 1: You’ll likely need some spare change, a couple of 100-yen ($1) coins, for things like locker or towel hire.

Step 2: Upon arrival, you’ll usually need to first store your shoes in their own separate locker, and put the key around your wrist.

Side note: Tattoos are banned in most onsens. If you’ve got a massive tatt, you’re best off googling ‘tattoo-friendly onsens’, but those with smaller tattoos will be pleased to know you can usually buy flesh coloured stickers at front desk to hide your shame. A warning: They’re an absolute bitch to rip off.

Step 3: Now it’s time to pay at the front desk, take your towels (a small hand towel to take into the onsen, and a bath towel for drying afterwards) and go find a clothing locker.

Entrance to the men's section of an onsen.

Men's and women's areas of an onsen are clearly marked.

Step 4: Here’s the bit that might be a bit nerve-racking for some: Put everything except for your key wristband and small hand towel in the locker. Yes, everything. Naked but for a flannel: That’s going to be your outfit for the remainder of the experience.

Step 5: This is an important one. Have a thorough shower before you enter any of the baths. Onsen showers are typically seated – you’ll perch on a small plastic stool and wash yourself with a shower head so you’re not bringing any outside dirt in.

Outdoor onsen bathing in Japan.

Step 6: Now you can enjoy the hot springs! But the rules don’t stop here. Never rest your small hand towel in the water (it’s largely there to dry off excess water on your skin when you’re ready to leave – Japanese patrons are fond of fashioning them into headwear to keep them relatively dry). There are no phones or cameras alone, no food or drinks, and no scrubbing or washing of your body while you’re in there.

An outdoor mountain onsen. Picture: Getty Images

And depending on the onsen, you might be amazed at what you find. The creme de la creme I found in my travels has been Spa World in central Osaka, a massive, multi-level onsen with space for literally hundreds of people at a time. For the tiny price of around $12, you’ll have free reign of an entire floor with indoor and outdoor hot baths, saunas and steam rooms. There’s a food court and hotel on premises (fear not, clothes go back on for those activities).

One particularly addictive treat: The cold plunge pools. Of course, there’s a rule for them too: Jugs sit at the edge of each cold pool, and it’s polite to give yourself a few splashes before entry to remove any sweat from the hot environment before entry.

Inside the massive Spa World, Osaka.

Flitting between a 43.8 degree hot spring and a 16.5 degree cold bath soon went from intimidating to addictive: The only experience I had in Japan that came close was trying Wasabi ice cream for the first time (it sounds gimmicky, but it’s amazing. Spice cream!).

Salt rooms are another highlight of some larger onsens. A steam room with a big pillar of salt in the middle – enter, rub the salt all over your body, and emerge 15 minutes later with a quick shower to reveal skin that feels like you’ve had the sort of full-body spa treatment that would cost hundreds of dollars here in Australia.

An onsen is a very relaxing experience – but there are many rules to follow.

Onsens are definitely more of a cold weather treat – when I visited Japan in March, temperatures dropped to around 5 degrees. A soothing soak in the nearest onsen became a welcome ritual after each long day of brisk temperatures, wind burn and 20,000+ steps of sightseeing.

And they also offer a chance to truly get off the tourist path: Of the half-dozen onsens I visited during my 10-day visit to Tokyo, I probably saw about the same amount of Western tourists.

And it was a surprise to find that among the best I visited I didn’t have to go any further than Tokyo Haneda Airport, the fifth-busiest airport in the world.

The primary hub for tourists flying into Japan, the airport now has a very large new hotel at Terminal 3, Villa Fontaine Grand, with an impressively large onsen complex on the top floor. It turns what is usually a pretty dispiriting necessity – a stay at an airport hotel – into a genuine highlight of any trip.

This was the only facility I visited in Japan that rivalled Osaka’s famed Spa World in terms of scale: Outdoor hot pools, cold plunge pools, saunas, steam rooms, they’re all here.

I stayed at the hotel overnight before an early morning flight and it was the perfect end to a Japan holiday: A late evening post-dinner onsen, another at sunrise, then a five-minute walk from the hotel to check-in for the flight home … where, as winter approaches, I can’t help but wish Australia would adopt this particular bit of Japanese culture.