Szilvia GombolaSwedish Sauna
May 8th 2007 07:20
Maybe I’d watched too many of the wrong type of movies but the words ‘Sweden’ and ‘sauna’ immediately conjured up certain images in my mind. So when the opportunity arose to do just that - a sauna in Sweden - I wasn’t going to pass it up.
We were on a small camping and hiking tour in the far northern reaches of Scandinavia, high above the Artic Circle where the reindeers outnumber people and the locals love a sauna and a drink, even at the same time.
Our Swedish campground adjoined a ski resort, which in summer was a haven for hikers, nature lovers and anyone keen to soak up the long, bright days before the impending onset of an equally long, dark winter.
Having access to any sort of facilities was pure luxury after our recent run of open-field and seaside camping, so the hot showers, shop and bar were gratefully welcomed. After indulging in all of these, my excitement levels rose even higher when we were informed these facilities also included a traditional communal Swedish sauna set on the resort’s picturesque lake.
I couldn’t express my interest quick enough. With just one other male volunteer from our group, we were ‘sauna brothers’ united in our quest to live the dream. The protocol, we were told, was females for the first hour, males for the next hour and then all-comers at the end. The last option seemed easily the best, particularly when our guide’s instructions finished with the declaration that it was traditional Swedish custom to sauna in the nude. I was willing to put my body on the line – all in the name of cultural appreciation, of course.
I walked down to the lake to meet my sauna brother from Scotland at the designated time. Only an Aussie and a Scot shared the toughness to take on such a challenge. But this Aussie bought some insurance in the form of a trusty pair of speedos (aka budgie smugglers) slipped on beforehand.
As I revealed them, and my sauna buddy revealed a lot more, the communal hot box began to fill with a steady stream of young locals. They were all blond, tanned, fit and attractive, with enough girls in the mix to cancel out the weirdness of sweating with a group of nude males. Fantasy part one – check. And they were all decked out in swimwear. Fantasy part two – not quite but still pretty good.
They were also all drinking, passing around beers as freely as they were cranking up the heat in the sauna. As we sweated silently, the crowded sauna was steaming up with hot Swedish bodies drinking. The problem with this was? Well, we were hot, and thirsty. Everyone else had beers and we didn’t and Braveheart next to me was turning red, most probably due to being the only naked person in the room.
So the lake was the only option for cooling off. We took the plunge and the ice cold water sent me running out almost as soon as I got in. We were joined down by the lake by some of the bikini-clad sauna girls. This is where the trusty speedos were worth their weight in lycra.
I was back on the shore, while my Scottish friend was stuck waist deep in the near-freezing water, too proud to come out in his nude, shrinkaged state. Eventually, the girls hit the water too and he made a run for it and we were soon back in the warm confines of the sauna. The dip must have broken the ice because we were now in the social circle and feted with beers and conversation.
At one point I looked out the steamy window across the lake and reminded myself that I was sitting in a sauna in the remote far north of Sweden full of Swedish girls in bikinis, drinking free beer – you gotta love travel.
The moral of the story? Try anything once and pack some speedos, just in case. And maybe all Scandinavians having a sauna in the nude is right up there with Australians riding kangaroos to school in the cultural myths stakes. Also, the effects of alcohol are dramatically multiplied when consumed in a sauna – a valuable lesson that we continued to apply throughout the trip to combat the astronomical prices in these parts.
We were on a small camping and hiking tour in the far northern reaches of Scandinavia, high above the Artic Circle where the reindeers outnumber people and the locals love a sauna and a drink, even at the same time.
Our Swedish campground adjoined a ski resort, which in summer was a haven for hikers, nature lovers and anyone keen to soak up the long, bright days before the impending onset of an equally long, dark winter.
I couldn’t express my interest quick enough. With just one other male volunteer from our group, we were ‘sauna brothers’ united in our quest to live the dream. The protocol, we were told, was females for the first hour, males for the next hour and then all-comers at the end. The last option seemed easily the best, particularly when our guide’s instructions finished with the declaration that it was traditional Swedish custom to sauna in the nude. I was willing to put my body on the line – all in the name of cultural appreciation, of course.
I walked down to the lake to meet my sauna brother from Scotland at the designated time. Only an Aussie and a Scot shared the toughness to take on such a challenge. But this Aussie bought some insurance in the form of a trusty pair of speedos (aka budgie smugglers) slipped on beforehand.
They were also all drinking, passing around beers as freely as they were cranking up the heat in the sauna. As we sweated silently, the crowded sauna was steaming up with hot Swedish bodies drinking. The problem with this was? Well, we were hot, and thirsty. Everyone else had beers and we didn’t and Braveheart next to me was turning red, most probably due to being the only naked person in the room.
So the lake was the only option for cooling off. We took the plunge and the ice cold water sent me running out almost as soon as I got in. We were joined down by the lake by some of the bikini-clad sauna girls. This is where the trusty speedos were worth their weight in lycra.
I was back on the shore, while my Scottish friend was stuck waist deep in the near-freezing water, too proud to come out in his nude, shrinkaged state. Eventually, the girls hit the water too and he made a run for it and we were soon back in the warm confines of the sauna. The dip must have broken the ice because we were now in the social circle and feted with beers and conversation.
At one point I looked out the steamy window across the lake and reminded myself that I was sitting in a sauna in the remote far north of Sweden full of Swedish girls in bikinis, drinking free beer – you gotta love travel.
The moral of the story? Try anything once and pack some speedos, just in case. And maybe all Scandinavians having a sauna in the nude is right up there with Australians riding kangaroos to school in the cultural myths stakes. Also, the effects of alcohol are dramatically multiplied when consumed in a sauna – a valuable lesson that we continued to apply throughout the trip to combat the astronomical prices in these parts.
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