The Secret Life of Saunas

How Helsinki’s extreme heat turned me on to sauna culture

by Patrick Janelle

Growing up in the American Midwest, what I will call “self-care recreation” was relegated to private, expensive moments, and often only on special occasions. The experience of going to the spa, getting a massage, taking a steam or visiting a sauna was approached with a sense of seriousness-reverence, almost. The spa is a place for pampering, and it is a time to be alone. I never understood saunas: those small, wood-lined rooms that are present in the fanciest of spas. They sit there, dry, silent, and empty. The steam room at least created a tangible environment that was different: sputtering steam infused with relaxing fragrances like lemongrass or eucalyptus. When I did pamper myself at the spa, I didn’t have much use for those hot little boxes. Even if I did I pop into the sauna for a minute, I spent the rest of my time in the jacuzzi, its bubbling jets representing the peak of middle-class American comfort. It made sense.

I first visited Helsinki in early autumn 2017, when the leaves were changing and the temperatures were already dropping into scarf, hat, and winter coat weather. A representative from the City of Helsinki tourism board welcomed me to the city. During her comprehensive introduction to the city and, by proxy, Finnish life, she explained to me the importance of the sauna. Not just an object, but an experience so central, and so singular, that the word, she told me, is the only Finnish word that has found its way into the English language.

What to me has always seemed an incomprehensible, occasional moment of pampering, to the Finns is a daily ritual that has become so ubiquitous and quotidian that nearly every residential structure in the country has its own private sauna. And for residents of apartment buildings, an on-premise sauna, practically required, is shared among the tenants, each with their own allotted time for weekly usage. If nothing else, what I learned during that brief introduction to Finnish life was that I needed to at least visit a public sauna and experience one for myself.

That evening, I found my way to a traditional sauna in the Kallio district of Helsinki, a middle-class wedge of the city that is commonly recognized as the “hipster” neighborhood. Visitors to this decades-old sauna included long-term residents of the neighborhood, young city transplants, and local twentysomethings. I caught the tail end of a visit by a young father and his baby son, in which the father brought his child into the extreme heat of the sauna and ladled him with water as the boy rolled around on a tiny toy tricycle.

Upon visiting a Finnish sauna, there are a few things that you will quickly notice: saunas are traditionally separated by gender and it’s required to strip down nude before entering. More subtle is the social aspect: conversation and camaraderie create a deep sense of communal vibrancy. In addition to the father and his young boy, there were a variety of pals, friends, and strangers, all of whom were making jocular conversation, whether in the extreme heat of the sauna's interior, in the adjoining locker rooms, or outside, where you would cool down to balance the heat of the interior.

“The sauna is not that little wooden box; it was a sum of the parts that creates the experience.”

This transition from interior to exterior is key to the experience, and it’s something you do repeatedly: back and forth between, shower, sauna, outside, in a cycle that is usually accompanied by a beer, conversation, and in the case of seaside saunas that I would later visit, plunges into the icy water. This rotation would happen upwards of five times, so that the purpose of the visit was a sort of meditation not only of relaxation, but of comfort, discomfort, and socialization. I realized for the first time, that the point of the sauna is not that little wooden box; it was a sum of the parts that creates the experience. The repetition that built up into something more. The heat is important, but so is the antidote: the beverages, the cooling effects of the outside, the icy sting of the ocean, and communal bonding. The sauna is not an object, it’s a lifestyle.

a step-by-step introduction to

the perfect sauna cycle

HOW TO SAUNA

1. CHECK HOURS
   Opening hours and days of the week vary widely.

2. BRING A TOWEL
   Many saunas offer towels for rent but feel free to bring your own. All saunas will have a locker room.

3. BYOB
   Check to see if the sauna sells alcohol or is BYOB. Sipping beer, tea, coffee, and water, in between sessions in the heated sauna is integral to the experience.

4. LOCK IT UP
   Saunas have lockers for storing personal belongings and provide keys on bracelet-sized loops. Keep the key with you (you’ll notice that many people wear theirs around the ankle).

5. SHOWER BEFORE ENTRY…
   Saunas are traditionally nude. Shower before entering the heated sauna and leave your towel behind.

6. HEAT PROTECTION
   Some saunas will provide a small cloth to sit on, for protecting you from otherwise scorching hot benches.

7. THE HIGHER THE HOTTER
   Saunas are typically constructed as a series of bench steps, with hotter temperatures obviously higher you go.

8. TIME YOURSELF
   Gauge yourself, but guests usually stay for 5-10 minutes in the sauna before exiting.

9. …AND SHOWER AFTER, TOO
   It’s common to shower after exiting the sauna, and from there you can wrap yourself in your towel, relax in the locker room or common area, grab a beer, or throw on your bathing suit to take a dip in the icy ocean.

10. RINSE AND REPEAT
    Repeat the cycle, between the sauna, and common areas, and cool off, for as long as you’d like—typically, from five to ten cycles.