Sure, I miss it.
But there are things you can do, you know, here, down under and all.
Like, when I cook sausages I’ll quickly take the frying pan and put it under cold water and let the kitchen fill up with steam.
It’s not exactly the same, of course, but there’s definitely some release there.
Like popping a pimple. Short lived, but worth it.
The problem is that saunas in Australia don’t make sense.
We have them, in hotels and resorts.
And maybe the occasional gym.
I’m just trying to figure out where my nearest one is.
But the coldest it gets here is, I dunno, fourteen degrees?
I made that number up, but it sounds about right. Maybe eleven.
It’s a bit of a generalisation, of course, but saunas in Australia tend to be for old people.
Which is fine, I get it now.
I get the appeal.
It just took several thousand dollars and spending time in the winter forests to figure that out.
To figure out why it’s good.
I can read into it, of course.
Maybe, okay, maybe there’s this whole subconscious thing of returning to the warmth of the womb.
These little glowing rooms.
Where you are finally in touch with the people around you.
Where friends become family.
And family become friends.
I found one on top of a hotel, overlooking Hyde Park in Sydney.
Gorgeous. Open rooftop pool, with sauna and spa.
After a particularly trashy night we groomsmen ended up there.
And the blokes from overseas just thought it was the coolest thing.
Magical, for them.
Because that’s how people see Australia, I think. I’m not sure, that’s what people say.
Something about the sunshine and how it affects our economy.
Or the fact that so many Australians leave the country during the summer
Or hide in air conditioned rooms.
Consequently we never interact with tourists over summer.
And when we’re overseas, we just find more Aussies to hang out with.
Because they like sausages made of lamb, rather than pork.
You can relate to things like that. People bond over it.
It sounds really simple, but Australians just huddle together in pubs and order lamb whenever they can.
Lining their insides to hide from the cold.
Or maybe we just get infatuated with saunas.
And ignore the irony, escaping the heat to find heat elsewhere.
Escape Australians to find Australians.
Only to find that the Finnish are more welcoming and warm than we’ll ever be.
And they think we’re the special ones?
They think we’re the crazy ones.
– Scott Sandwich