Flying | Eating | Sleeping

Adam and Eve Spa, Tokyo

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.

Baden-Baden - Spas and Warsteiner Brasserie

Despite my annual declarations that I'll "never fly Ryanair again" or, more specifically, I'll "never drive to Stansted Airport in the dead of night again", the prospect of a day in Baden-Baden repeatedly lures me back to Essex and its runway-equipped purgatory.

Why?  Well once you've swallowed the cost of a Ryanair return (peanuts if caught in a sale) and the trauma of transiting through Stansted, a day of spa-based fun is yours for less than you might pay for an hour of something similar in London.

After landing at Karlsrhue-Baden, you can either cough up thirty Euros for a cab into town, or five Euros for a return bus ticket.  Buses run every half hour or so, taking about forty minutes for the journey.

Baden-Baden now has two main public spas - the old Friedrichsbad and the modern Caracalla.

After five or six trips, I've developed something of a routine for the day.  After arriving in town, I head directly to the Friedrichsbad for the morning.  Less than thirty Euros buys you three hours of showers, saunas, steam baths and bathing pools, at a variety of temperatues, in a strict order.  It's well worthwhile paying the little extra for the "soap and brush massage" - ten minutes of exfoliation and deep tissue massage between the sauna and steam stages.  There is now also an optional moisturising massage in the final stages, after the last bath but before you're wrapped up in a duvet and left to doze for 45 minutes.

By now it's after 1pm and the perfect time to wander into Warsteiner for a spot of Disney's Germany; beer, spaetzle and Weiner snitzel served by men wearing lederhosen.

There is plenty of time between lunch and the flight home to spend at least two hours in the Caracalla baths - a huge modern complex split across two floors with both indoor and ourdoor areas.

The ground floor houses several giant pools, again at varying temperatures, some with bubbles, others with man-made waterfalls of warm water to sit under, and two outdoors, reached by swiming through gaps in the outer wall.

Upstairs is what the facility describes as a "saunascape", a large variety of saunas and steam rooms.

Before booking passage to Germany, there are a couple of points to note.  Firstly, all of the Friedrichsbad and the upstairs "saunascape" at the Caracalla baths are clothing free, not optional - everybody is naked.  It's not an issue, but don't say you weren't warned.

Secondly, the day return has, for the last two or three years, only been possible during Ryanair's summer schedule.  In winter, the flight drops back to once daily in the morning.  This is something of a shame as it was a fun place to visit in Winter when the town hosts a Christmas market and you can luxuriate in hot outdoor pools while snow falls around you.