Sauna

As the autumn begins to settle in Berlin, Germans are taking their clothes off and preparing for some serious heat. You couldn’t find a hotter place in Australia. Sauna season. At least almost, today was a little early. The real cold – it was -15 here two years ago – has yet to come. Today in Friedrichshain there were no signs of bunched men and women sitting like sardines in a 90 degree sauna while a woman (always a woman) emerges to add a little flavour (today it was orange) and test everyone’s resolve with some merciless towel air-whipping. No, it was quite empty today. The echoes of a crying baby, an early starter, made it seem a little hospital like. It left more time to think a little. When I was introduced to saunas the main scares were sexual (an ill-timed erection for instance). Let it be said that I am now a sauna regular, in fact I’ve tried ten or more in Berlin. But today another horror struck me, a lift-type phobia. Someone appears in the small window of the door to the sauna, smiles outrageously, and then locks us in there. In fact I imagined a Jack Nicholson sort of smile. Only if he came charging through with an axe it would be the greatest of reliefs. I got over Jack, and then went for the main show. We might just as easily call this place The Bucket. Heart thrashing and body soaked, I stand under the Bucket while Tini pulls the rope. Gushing and very cold, the water is overwhelming, and then I fizz all over and realise how much fun it was. In fact its just like a sky dive – the moment the parachute comes up you are suddenly aware that the thing you dreaded was actually most enjoyable, but you weren’t quite able to grasp the glory as it happened. All that’s left is the bubbling froth to tickle you. This is my sauna buzz, and there shall surely be many more this winter.