The sauna at the end of the world

There’s no quicker way to get to know a bunch of strangers than being stripped down to your swimsuit and being shut inside a hot box with them. It’s 10 am on a chilly, sunny day and I’m sitting with a group of journalists from around the world who have travelled together to Tasmania, the island state at the southern-most end of Australia.

Ordinarily, we would be walking around a museum or having wine for breakfast at a vineyard, but today, on just the second day of our arrival, we’re sitting knee-to-knee, sweaty, in our swimsuits, in a coal-fired sauna that’s on a pontoon floating across the North West Bay, around a 20-minute drive from the region’s capital city, Hobart.

Once we acclimatise to our surroundings—inside a steamy, wood-slatted box with a glass front that looks over the still, blue-grey waters of the river Derwent—we get chatting as though we’ve been on this trip for days.

That’s until one by one, after some pep talk and sussing of temperature, we work up the courage to jump into the icy waters surrounding us. The sauna is at a cosy 80 to 90 degrees, while the water is at a frigid 10 to 15 degrees—so this hot-and-cold, sauna-and-ice experience seems like the kind of thing that masochistic health freaks who enjoy subjecting themselves to things like electrical currents and 150 kg sled pushes can only dream about.

I soon learn about wild sauna, the newest escape that wellness-minded people who are attuned to the benefits of hot and cold are increasingly shelling all their money on. And Kuuma Nature Sauna is just one stop on a trip to experience what Tasmania (or Lutruwita, as it was called by the original Palawa people) offers to those seeking a side of wellness on their holiday Down Under. Here, wild saunas—sweat boxes in remote, unpopulated places—are thriving alongside other forms of bathing culture around the world (two words: sauna raves), and Tasmania, with its otherworldly landscape, offers some of the most scenic spots to sink in and experience the trend. Steal the perfect R&R itinerary where saunas and seafood get equal importance:

Day 1: Why don’t you...try some wallaby?

Noon: Our trip to experience Tassie’s saunas takes us across the length of the island. It begins in Hobart, the country’s least populated place and second-oldest city after Sydney, where we arrive after a flight down from Brisbane (around two hours and 40 minutes). A former penal colony that’s now a quaint, water-front city, it has a small but promising arts and culinary scene. But our first stop is lunch at the Mures Upper Deck Restaurant, renowned for its fresh seafood and views of the waterfront.

From the minute we arrive, the Tasmanian Pacific oysters are the talk of town, so naturally our first order is to taste the produce that flourishes in the region’s crisp, cold waters along with a glass of local white wine. We then eat our way through an aquarium’s worth of offerings—everything from Mures Blue Eye Trevalla with lemon tarragon sauce (the deep-sea fish is freshly caught by the restaurant’s own boat) to a seafood laksa chock-full of scallops, prawns, and mussels.

2 pm: Pleasantly stuffed, we check in to the nearby Doubletree by Hilton Hobart, a safe bet for those looking to stay within budget, although there are more options close to the port so you can look out at the sea from your room.

6 pm: A short walk around the town helps loosen our appetites again, so we head to Restaurant Maria, another local favourite that serves up local produce (a phrase we’re going to hear repeatedly on our trip) but with a Mediterranean twist—think lamb shoulder with grain salad and tzatziki, Greek yoghurt and honey cake, and macadamia hummus with crumbled wallaby meat for dinner. Yes, you read that right. The wallaby is an Australian inhabitant that belongs to the kangaroo family and is often viewed as a pest for its ability to efficiently chomp through crop and vegetable farms. As a result, chefs in the region are uninhibited about cooking with them.

Day 2: I’m on a boat, getting hot-boxed

10 am: In the morning we drive down to the Margate pier, where we board the pontoon that houses Kuuma Nature Sauna and meet Chloe and Nathan Gore, its founders. They tell us about how the idea for a floating sauna came from a trip to a frozen fjord in Norway that the couple took. Sauna traditions have deep roots in Scandinavian countries, going back over 3,000 years, similar to Japan’s mushiburo, or steam bath, the Russian banya, and hammam culture in west Asia. These cultures understand the benefits of heat therapy in improving the heart’s ability to handle stress and cardiovascular ability as well as the more theoretical benefits of spending time away from your phone, sitting in a steamy room in silence, and even the social benefits of baring it all with friends or strangers.

After steering us across the water for about 20 minutes, Gore shuts off the engine and invites us to head into the hot box for our first sweat session. The sauna itself is a slatted wooden box with benches, and Gore ladles water on a set of hot stones heated on a wood fire that immediately, dramatically, sizzle and emit steam, increasing the temperature of the room. I’m reminded of the Apple TV show Bad Sisters, where many of the titular sisters’ most incriminating plans of murder and foul play are made either while sitting in a container sauna along a frigid Irish beach or while diving into the sea’s icy waters. Fortunately, my group of scribes have no major agenda beyond enjoying the view from our sauna and mustering up the courage to get into the water afterward.

Our boat is simple but elegantly designed and equipped with a changing room, fresh towels, and even a cup of hot green tea to sip after you’ve taken the cold plunge. Most people go back and forth from hot to cold a few times, enjoying the combined feelings of deep relaxation and euphoria that the contrast offers. I, too, yo-yo through this.

6 pm: The day ends with dinner at Manky Sally’s, a vibey neighbourhood bar with fun, Asian-inflected food. There’s Spicy Yuzu Margherita with some more oysters, and a menu of bar nibbles that will convince you to add this place to your itinerary: chips tossed in chillies and Sichuan pepper, sesame prawn toast, and fried lemongrass squid with a Vietnamese dipping sauce.

Day 3: A road trip to the north

11 am: The next day is for driving up to Launceston, the base for our second sauna. Before leaving Hobart, however, we get a taste of Tasmania’s history. Our first stop is a tour of the Cascades Female Factory, a former convict facility that was set up in 1828 in Van Dieman’s Land, the name given to Tasmania by its colonisers.

2 pm: We follow it with a drive-by of Mona (the Museum of Old and New Art), which opened in Hobart in 2011 and has added to the city’s credibility as an arts destination.

4 pm: Last is a pit stop in the town of Evandale. With its charming churches, Georgian-era buildings, and quaint houses with rose gardens, Evandale is the kind of place you imagine Anne of Green Gables could be shot in (if it was set in Australia).

7 pm: What’s travel without crossing things off a list. So, at night we head to Stillwater, which the New York Times dubbed “the best restaurant in Tasmania”, for more oysters and other Aussie produce—Cape Grim beef, abalone, kingfish, and wallaby, all paired with a selection of local wines. The restaurant is part of Stillwater Seven, a boutique hotel with just seven rooms, each as carefully appointed as the restaurant’s menu, with furniture and artworks from local design studios.

Day 4: Nirvana is a tiny wooden box off a lake

10 am: It’s our last day, and we are off, driving east for an hour and a half, past rolling pastures and vineyards, to arrive at The Floating Sauna, which sits on a short wooden pier overlooking the scenic Lake Derby. The spot abuts the Derby Forest Reserve, and there are plenty of trails running past it for cyclists and hikers looking to get their dose of that fresh Tassie air. And what better way to recover from a long walk or bike ride than with a sauna session followed by a cold plunge into the otherworldly lake? Like Kuuma, this sauna is compact, simple, and can accommodate about five people at once. There are two changing areas and a bench on which to dry off and look over the mist settling on the water.

Once we reach the pier, our garrulous group involuntarily turns quiet as we take in the beauty of the spot. Owner Nigel Reeves tells us that although remote, this spot is popular among tourists, including honeymooners from India. It’s May when we visit, considered fall season, when the leaves turn red, which means the weather is cold and there is a slight mist at one end that adds to the drama of the setting. Reeves suggests we keep our eyes peeled for any platypus that might be floating on the banks of the lake. And sure as hell, we see one.

1 pm: Lunch is at another mind-bogglingly scenic spot—the restaurant at the Barnbougle Lost Farm Golf Resort overlooks the sea, shifting our natural state of being to somewhere between relaxation and nirvana. It’s our last meal in Tasmania, which means we order two dozen plates of oysters and a portion of scallops, which we throw back with Riesling like bears preparing to hibernate for winter.

The next day, I returned via Melbourne (a one-hour flight), invigorated by that clean Tasmanian air and a bottle of wine in my suitcase. “I’m from Tasmania, which is an island on the periphery of Australia, and Australia is an island on the periphery of the world,” Booker-prize winning author Richard Flanagan observed about his home. As you walk through the quiet of the forest or look over a misty lake after steaming yourself for 20 minutes, you get some sense of the kind of solitude, the closeness to nature, that makes the region such a popular destination.