Soaking it up — while naked, of course — in the best spas of Europe

With my intense travel schedule, I savor detours where I put away the schedule and notes and simply enjoy the moment. And for me, there’s no better detour in Europe than visiting a public bath or spa for a relaxing, good soak.

Some Americans are prudish when it comes to enjoying public baths in Europe — especially when the dress code is just a towel. I understand the hesitation; my first time was awkward too. I was with friends — a young, good-looking German couple. As they got naked in the changing area, I felt like the Road Runner just beyond the cliff’s edge. Then I eased up and got naked. It wasn’t sexy — simply open and free.

One of my favorite bath experiences is in the German town of Baden-Baden. It’s said that the Roman Emperor Caracalla may have soaked away his rheumatism here. Today the town has two very different baths. The Roman-Irish Bath (Friedrichsbad) is traditional, stately, indoors, contemplative, and relaxing — it’s just you, the past, and your body. The Baths of Caracalla (Caracalla Therme), with both indoor and outdoor areas, are more perky, modern, and social.

I prefer Friedrichsbad — a steamy world of peaceful pools, exquisitely tiled sauna rooms, and complete nudity — where, for the cost of a good dinner, you get the works. Multilingual signs lead you from room to room. Highlights include the soap-and-brush massage (rough, slippery, and finished with a good Teutonic spank); the central pool, where women and men glide like swans under a divine dome; and after all that hot water, the cold plunge (don’t wimp out; it’s invigorating). Afterward, you lay in a silent yellow room, swaddled in warm towels. After Friedrichsbad, you’ll feel, as they say, five years younger — or at least no older.

In spa-loving Germany, you don’t have to make a special trip to find a public bath; many towns have one. For instance, in the Bavarian valley town of Schwangau, the Royal Crystal Baths (Konigliche Kristall-Therme) offer just what a body needs after a day battling crowds at Neuschwanstein castle. As you soak, enjoy the poolside view that’s as grand as King Ludwig’s — or even better, considering it includes his inspiring castle.

Like Germans, Hungarians enjoy a good bath. Hungary has more than a thousand hot springs, and Budapest alone has about two dozen mineral baths. Of these, the most accessible and fun is the Szechenyi Baths. Located in the middle of City Park, Szechenyi has indoor pools and a stunning outdoor complex, including a fun pool with jets, bubbles, and circular rapids. You’ll see locals of all shapes and sizes squeezed into tiny swimsuits, babushkas floating blissfully in the warm water, and the Speedo-clad old boys’ club gathered around chessboards.

One of my strangest spa experiences was in the Czech town of Trebon. Home to a peat spa, it attracts patients from all over the world, who come for weeklong stays to get naked and buried in the black, smelly sludge that’s thought to cure aching joints and spines. Envisioning the elegance of Baden-Baden, I had to give it a whirl.

After climbing into a stainless-steel tub, the attendant pulled a plug. I quickly disappeared under a rising sea of peat broth, my toes poking out of the hot brown and glassy-still sea. After my peat bath, I showered off the sludge and was ushered into the massage room. My attendant laid me face-down for a full-body massage (despite my insistence that I had to go). I walked out with a mucky massage cream causing my shirt to stick to me, and without a clue what soaking in that peat soup was supposed to accomplish. Still, the experience was worth it, if only to experience the surreal “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” atmosphere of Czech medical institutions.

Another memorable spa experience is the Finnish sauna, which has particular appeal during the long, cold winters. Finns say the sauna is a great equalizer — here, wearing nothing and slapping your back with birch twigs (which supposedly enhances circulation), there are no bosses. Everyone’s equal. Just inside the door is a big cooler stacked with frozen bundles of birch twigs and B.Y.O.B. bottles (if you want a beer, you bring your own). Each time I sweat with strangers in a Finnish sauna, I walk away impressed at the way 5 million people can maintain a distinct culture here in this far-northern corner of Europe.

— Tribune Content Agency