Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Finished with a Teutonic spank on the butt, I was sent off into the pools. Nude,
without my glasses, and not speaking the language, I was gawky. On a sliding
scale between Mr. Magoo and Woody Allen, I was everywhere. Steam rooms, cold
plunges…it all led to the mixed section.
This is where the Americans get really uptight. The parallel spa facilities inter-
sect, as both men and women share the finest three pools. Here, all are welcome to
glide under exquisite domes in perfect silence like aristocratic swans. Germans are
nonchalant, tuned into their bodies and focused on solitary relaxation. Tourists are
tentative, trying to be cool…but more aware of their nudity.
The climax is the cold plunge. I'm not good with cold water—yet I absolutely
love this. You must not wimp out on the cold plunge.
Then an attendant escorted me into the “quiet room” and asked if I'd like to be
awoken at any time. I told her at closing time. She wrapped me in hot sheets and
a brown blanket. No, I wasn't wrapped…I was swaddled. Warm, flat on my back,
among twenty hospital-type beds—only one other bed was occupied…he seemed
