Posted on Thursday, 14 December 2017

Craig Hindmarsh seeks out a traditional, rural sauna in the sleepy backwaters of Thailand's Esan region.

Thailand is not famed for its saunas – at least not of the type that feature in family holiday brochures. And most of the establishments that appear on Google are located in Bangkok, suggesting a dearth of saunas elsewhere.

Indeed, in Esan Province, nearly four hundred miles north of the capital, you're unlikely to find any saunas listed on the Internet. But they do exist. These are small, family-run affairs, frequented by men and women of all ages and backgrounds. To me, their complete lack of web presence gives them an intriguing word-of-mouth, speak-easy vibe.

An ex-pat friend of mine suggested we seek out one place he'd heard about. Curious to know what constituted a rural Thai sauna, I agreed.

Despite detailed directions from Thai friends, it took us some time to find.

Hidden down a track in a quiet residential part of town, it looked something like a large shed, gabled with corrugated iron. Centrally positioned underneath was a concrete block with two small glass panels and a grey plastic door. Behind this was what I presumed to be the changing area.

The sauna door opened, and a sweat-soaked Thai girl emerged through a pall of steam. It looked hot in there.

As I had assumed, this wasn't going to be your Scandinavian-style sauna experience. For a start, the ladies were covered in loose curtain-like garments, while the men donned wrap-around sarongs: there was to be no nudity here. And it was evident that this was a no-frills affair; not a ceramic plunge pool or beach-panelled steam room in sight.

The establishment was run by a husband-and-wife team, both well into their Sixties. Any worries that this was a "Thai-only" venue quickly evaporated with their warm smiles.

We were handed patterned sarongs, then directed towards the changing rooms for pre-sauna showers. What constituted a shower in this case was a large blue plastic barrel of water, fed by a flimsy tap. And what constituted a changing room door was a shredded plastic curtain, rippling in the afternoon breeze. There were generous gaps in the corrugated iron walling, too. All this seemed contrary to Thailand's well-known phobia of public nudity.

Still, we pressed on, re-appearing washed and ready, wearing only the snazzy sarongs we'd been given. Now it was simply a case of getting in the sauna.

Cautiously opening the door, we entered and were immediately enveloped in near-darkness – and a dense, hot fog. We found perches on the rudimentary planked seating, and it quickly became clear there was only one setting for this sauna: extremely hot.

Most of the clientele were female – of all ages. They would enter and exit the sauna regularly – understandable given the heat – gathering on the left side of the block to engage in a good deal of chatter. Inside, too, the hot damp air was filled with mysterious Esan words issued by sweat-filmed Thai ladies. As is so often the case in this country, the social element was a key draw of this activity. And the appearance of two foreigners in this unassuming backwater sauna provided an additional topic – according to my friend who speaks Esan.

I had imagined we could have chewed the cud in there too, mano-a-mano, but the thick steam made it extremely difficult to talk.

Indeed, the heat became intolerable after less than ten minutes. I escaped to the seating area outside, soon to be followed by my friend. Here, the affable lady proprietor offered us two mugs of pungent, steaming green liquid. We tried to fathom the mysterious herb in the drink, but it seemed unlike any we knew in the West.

It's good for you, the lady assured us.

After two more short stints in the steamy concrete box, we retreated once again to the seating area, with additional mugs of the hot green imbibe. Here we could chew the cud in more sensible temperatures. Indeed, chewing the cow's proverbial, it appeared, was the real reason for coming to a rural Thai sauna.

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