Which wellness ritual is for you - hammams or onsens?

By Amy Cooper

The battle of ancient baths in the buff comes down to this: tub, or rub and scrub. The Japanese onsen is a single soak, while the Turkish hammam is a multi-stage deep cleanse - sort of like a carwash for the human body.

I'll come clean: for years, I steered well clear of both. We Brits would rather incur a serious injury than get naked in public - or anywhere at all. I know couples back home who have anatomy their spouses have never seen.

But this job has a habit of hauling you out of your comfort zone, and on assignment in Istanbul one day l found myself in a cavernous domed hall at the 300-year-old Cagaloglu Hamam, among bare women of all ages and sizes, many being scrubbed on a slab by sturdy Turkish ladies in bathing suits.

There was nowhere to hide, and the teeny towel I'd swapped for my clothes somewhere in the bowels of this magnificent building was for mopping your brow, not protecting your modesty.

All I could do was avoid eye contact, feign nonchalance and talk to myself about the weather until I was beckoned to the slab. And there, for the first time, I entered hammam heaven.

It's said that if you haven't had a Turkish bath, you've never really been clean. The attendant - natir, in the female section and tellak for men - dons an exfoliating glove called a kese, and scrubs you so vigorously and thoroughly you feel as if you're shedding an entire skin, like a snake. You're washed with bubbly suds and massaged, too, while your cares rinse away along with your epidermis. Then you're reborn into the world shiny and new, lighter and happier. It's pure Turkish delight.

No treatment compares to the hammam's profound body and soul cleanse - even onsen, where really all you do is sit and simmer like a noodle in a ramen broth.

Although they're throughout Turkey, hammams are concentrated in Istanbul, where sultans built them close to their palaces and mosques, with matching opulence. You can experience your exfoliation epiphany within splendid Ottoman Empire architecture, amid soaring domes, vaulted ceilings, ornate tiles and marble columns, then soak up this glorious city's legendary landmarks: Topkapi Palace, the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia and the Grand Bazaar, all by the banks of the Bosphorus, where Europe and Asia meet.

Istanbul's 60-plus hammams include beauties like the 1584 Cemberlitas Hamam, and the gold-bedecked Hurrem Sultan Hamam, built by Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent for his queen, proving him worthy of his nickname.

Meanwhile, spare a thought for Mal, wallowing in a soup of strangers on a chilly Japanese hill, hoping those bubbles are natural gas. For a clean getaway, it's onsens-ical to head anywhere but Turkey.

By Mal Chenu

Onsens have been providing geothermic gratification for centuries. There are 3000-odd onsens bubbling away throughout Japan, and many hot spring towns are dedicated to little else.

Cooler than ramen, bigger than a capsule hotel room and more comprehensible than Hello Kitty, an onsen is literally good, clean fun and is a must on any trip to the land of the rising sun.

Onsens are so hot right now, and the worthiest warm water is often attached to Japanese inns called ryokan, which have been providing hospitality since the eighth century. Sentos (public bath houses) also offer reliable rinsing, but you may have to supply your own yukata (bathrobe) and uwabaki (slippers) to walk on tatami (the mat). (Seriously, Japanese Scrabble must be so easy.)

Conventional onsen bathing is an art form, like chanoyu (tea ceremonies), origami (paper folding), ikebana (flower arrangement) and violent game shows ("That hurt like hell, honourable compere-san!") Onsen protocols should be respected. Japan is the politest country on the planet, but they are pretty keen on their immersion etiquette.

More ecumenical than a hammam, which keeps boys and girls apart with the fervour of a Catholic school dance chaperone, you get more Zen for your yen at a time-honoured konyoku onsen, where you'll be completely starkers. In front of both sexes and all genders. Sadly (for purists), Western tourism and prudishness has led to many mixed onsens now requiring bathing suits.

Before entering the bath, you are obliged to wash and shampoo thoroughly. You will be given a big towel and a little towel but only the little towel is allowed in the bathing area. And this will not protect your modesty anyway, as you are supposed to put it on your head while you soak. The big towel stays in the changeroom, along with your clothes and dignity.

Then, finally, it's time to slide in. You may want to do this quickly (see modesty above) but the water will probably be too hot and you may have to ease yourself in slowly. On the upside, shrinkage is unlikely.

All onsens are awesome, wherever you broil. Japanese pride and cultural imperatives see to that. But onsens in the snow are particularly spectacular. In the town of Yamanouchi in the Nagano Prefecture in the Japanese Alps, even the local macaques loll in the hot springs. Everyone loves onsens.

By comparison, a hammam is ho-hum. But if your kink is to have your skin flayed by a woman called Fatima wearing heavy gauze gloves, you can get that in Kings Cross or St Kilda, rather than going all the way to Istanbul. (Or is it Constantinople?)

Anyway, you can often get spa treatments at onsens, too. And let's face it, "wax on, wax off" is more Miyagi than Mustafa. Onsen and upwards!

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