An odd thing seems to happen to European and American visitors to Japan – as soon as their aircraft wheels touch Japanese soil, many of them loose the capacity for rational thought. Inconveniences and delays (and they do happen, regardless of anything you may have heard), which people would rail against as a national disgrace back in London or Paris, go unnoticed while perfectly ordinary experiences are described in terms of slack-jawed wonderment.
I can think of no clearer example of this phenomenon than the Adam and Eve Spa; lauded by guidebooks, patronised by Tyler Brule (yawn), and mentioned in multiple blog posts from excited tourists. As one reviewer claimed it was a perfect antidote for jet-lag, I decided to head over there the last time I arrived in Tokyo.
Being something of a spa fan, it is possible that past expeditions to the Friedrichsbad had set my expectations at unreasonably high level, but I can’t think of any measure by which Adam and Eve isn’t horribly underwhelming.
Tucked down a side road, past the Chinese embassy, Adam and Eve looks rather like a brothel from the outside. Indeed, if a “sauna” looking like this opened in most European neighbourhoods, I suspect there would be much furrowing of brows, pursing of lips then scandalised discussion of “tolerance zones” and the decline of the area’s moral fibre. This impression is only reinforced as you enter, paying a man sitting within a glass cashiers booth and selecting treatments from a list.
After undressing in a cramped changing room, emerging trough a frosted glass door into the spa itself was something of a disappointment. The tiled room is rather dark and very dank. There is a row of plastic stools, each in front of a mirror, a shower and a selection of soaps and razors – everybody washes thoroughly before proceeding, some people also shave. Behind the showers are two pools, one hot, the other cold. There is also a steam room and a blisteringly hot sauna. That’s it. Nothing is particularly comfortable.
After showering then spending some time in the hot water, I pulled on some rather odd disposable cotton pants, before being led into a side room by an old lady in a black bikini for the famed Korean Scrub. Yes, she was thorough, but it was an body scrub; no more and no less than 20 minutes of exfoliation.
I’d bet that you can find far better spa experiences, at similar cost, close to your home, while there are far more interesting things to do with limited time in Tokyo. Ignore the breathless hysteria, and skip Adam and Eve.
