Sand Bathing in Ibusuki
The sands of time
One day, I’m sure I’ll write about the overarching onsen culture that exists in Japan. The reason that day hasn’t come is that it feels so daunting to tackle something so mythologised in an article or two. It is hard to suggest bathing is a uniquely Japanese pastime, so it would need some serious contemplating on how to adequately address the greatness of this cultural pillar. So for today, I will stay on the very edges of the onsen world.
I’ll champion not the ubiquitous onsens and ofuro’s across all of populated Japan, but a type of onsen only found in one tiny town on one single island. Of course I refer to Ibusuki, a town about an hour and half from Kagoshima in Kyushu. Here is the one place you don’t bathe in water, but in land. Or rather, sand.
Sand
Where the sea meets the land. Sand. Unlike many millennials, I don’t hate sand [Editor’s note: the author’s car can testify to this; it carries around half a beach worth of the stuff]. While it is course and gets everywhere, I’ve always associated it with beach trips and coast, not desert and dryness. However, that isn’t to say that I don’t understand people’s aversion to it. To make any trip to visit sand feels kind of incomplete. Like visiting a place for dirt or something. Sort of a special interest activity I think. While it wouldn’t be entirely fair to say that sand has never factored into my travel plans, I’m usually picturing giant shape shifting sand dunes, rather than flat sand.
I first heard about Ibusuki while watching our regular fix of Japanese public broadcast television. And they make a pretty compelling case for sand. In particular, to pay for the privilege of be buried in a shallow grave of hot sand. A few weeks later, we would find ourselves, after several high-speed and lower speed trains, luxuriating in our very own shallow grave.
The plan: To revitalise our sense of self through the magic of heated sand.
Hot Sand Bathing
Where were we?
Ibusuki by no means is a rural and deserted hermit location, but it is also no Tokyo. Serviced by a JR line, it is an easy enough destination from Kagoshima, which is one of the largest cities in Kyushu. However, from the Ibusuki JR station, the nearest accessible baths is about a half hour walk or 10 minute bus ride through Japanese suburbia.
Sure, there are the occasional conbini and restaurant, but considering the national level of fame Ibusuki captured, it is startlingly local. Nevertheless, by foot or by bus you will arrive at one of the major bathhouses in due time. Here you will see a mix of locals who visit everyday, and tourists who come from all over Japan and the world.
The bathing process is different to an ordinary onsen. Like any other communal bathing experience, you should wash first. That’s about the extent of the similarities. Here, you are given a yukata bathing robe to wear during your sandbathing section. Then, you are guided towards the beach, where the sand is warmed for your convenience. Perhaps the word heated is better terminology.
Like much of Japan, there is geothermal energy that exists under Ibusuki. This does multiple things to the sand in particular.
Makes the sand hot. When I say warmed, the official temperature of the sand you get buried in is 50-55C, I guess depending on how the geothermal activity is feeling? Not actually sure why there is a range.
Makes the sand black. Like other volcanic adjacent sand, these sands are infused with minerals and supposed health benefits. It does make it look even more like a dirt pile though.
When you’re ready, get in!
Sunamushi
So the literal term for this experience is Sunamushi or sand steaming. Rows and rows of the human sized holes are prepared by your helpful sand person assistant with a shovel. You have the privilege of getting called into a free one of these sand holes and lying down. Your friendly shoveler will do the rest. They will explain that it is recommended you stay for a maximum of about 15-20 minutes otherwise you may faint. Then, you are told to cover your face with your small towel. Finally the burying commences.
This friendly attendant will start piling steaming hot sand upon you. First a trickle. Soon, you feel the weight of the sand, and they continue to shovel. Just as it starts feeling too heavy, their part in this experience is over. They will have walked away already without your blindfolded knowledge.
The sensation of being buried in sand was not an entirely new experience. As a beach-going child, I’d frequently bury or be buried. However, Ibusuki hot sand does not behave the same as cool Australian beach sand. Your personal experience will vary based on medical history and organic matter, but this is a short summary of my time with sunamushi.
First minute and a half: I wonder if that attendant is done. This is warm but a little like a weighted blanket. Comforting.
Second half of the minute until 3 minutes roughly: I am sweating. A lot. Wow, my palms are literally pulsing. Is this safe? Now my toes are also pulsing.
3-5 minutes: My blood is still definitely pumping, but a bit less noticeable now. I’m even more extremely warm now.
5-8 minutes: I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt my blood circulate like this. This has to be good for my health. I’m literally improving my human form by lying in this sand. Gosh, this is has tipped from warm to hot though. I wonder when I should get out.
8-10ish minutes: It feels like I’ve been here for decades. I should see how my wife is going. I can hear the waves but not much else. Now I can feel each bead of sweat form. I’m probably too healthy now. Let’s get out.
Finally emerging from the sand like a reawoken kaiju, you look around to see how the world has changed. Yet all you see are these holes of black sand. With no sense of time or space, you groggily brush off stubborn particles sand that cling desperately. There is a clock, and like children returning from Narnia, you realise that despite the years of change in your mind, reality has barely shifted.
I would strongly recommend finding time to visit these hot sand baths. Where else can you experience time travel so easily? Without psychedelics as well. So my recommendation will be the only onsen we visited in Ibusuki, the Saraku Sand Bath Hall.
I almost neglected to mention, upon completing your land sand bath, you take a moment to enjoy the scenery before going back in for the regular water bath. It turns out that the geothermal energy also heats water reservoirs, so Saraku Sand Baths offers both baths as part of the visit. The onsen portion was great too, but I promised I would discuss the onsen experience in future posts.
Our trip to Ibusuki was ultimately completed in a single day. We had a wonderful izakaya meal in town before returning to Kagoshima. The town promised further attractions from gardens, temples to even more onsens. As a coastal escape, I think it bears great value to travelers from near and far. It will certainly be the place I’ll go whenever I need circulatory improvement and a disconnection from the flow of time.
I did this a few years ago in Ibusuki at the Hakusuikan which is a big seaside onsen resort there with lots of different baths including an indoor sunaburo sand bath. Also recommend.