Options are few for walking around naked in Seattle, but such is the experience at one of the city’s newest spas, Banya 5 (217 Ninth Ave. N., 206-262-1234). The Russian-style spa/health facility, which opened last September, offers select same-sex hours on two days a week where you can partake of the healing ritual of sweating, soaking, and relaxing in your birthday suit. (On Wednesdays, the spa is open to women only from 2 p.m.–10 p.m.; Thursdays are for men, 2 p.m.–10 p.m.; the rest of the days are coed, with Sundays from 10 a.m.–2 p.m. considered family day.)
The spa’s mission is to provide a comfortable space which offers healthful benefits and amenities similar to those of a traditional Russian banya, with a brick- and cedar-lined moist heat room (ranging from 180 to 200 degrees), a Turkish steam room (heated to 110 to 120 degrees and scented with eucalyptus leaves), and three pools: a 55-degree cold water pool (refreshing or chilly, depending on your constitution), a tepid saltwater pool, and a jetted hot water pool. Everything in this beautiful place looks squeaky clean and fresh—the comfortable locker room, clear pools, Spartan scrub area, and cushy bright white robes and towels. Even the most ardent misophobe (that’s germ freak) would be comfortable in this spotless facility that combines warm woods, colored concrete, and glass block.
The benefit of experiencing the banya naked is obvious—you can freely sweat like a pig without the hindrance of a swimsuit, and, somehow, that feels healthier. This is not, however, a bacchanalian event—first-time visitors fill out a consent form with rules and guidelines that include everything from cautionary admonitions about touching metal in the heated Russian Room (it’s hot) to agreeing that you will neither participate in “sexual activity or lewd conduct” nor “exhibit any open signs of affection.”
For Favero Greenforest, it’s a simple issue. “I just don’t want to wear a suit,” says the spa veteran who goes every week on men’s day. He spends around four hours each visit moving between the pools, sauna, and hot room, adjusting to the ebb and flow of clients coming and going.
“It’s quieter when it opens at two,” he says. “Conversations are hushed. With the after-work crowd, it gets a little livelier.”
He’s a believer in the pool with the high-powered jets: “I had hip pain when I started there. Now it’s gone.”
To experience the maximum benefits—which purportedly range from stimulating lymphatic flow to the reduction of the appearance of external scars—you’ll start by sweating in the steam room. Perhaps you’ll gently flog yourself with oak leaves to increase the skin’s circulation. Then you’ll move on to sweating in the Russian room, followed by a plunge in the cold pool before spending some time soaking in the tepid or jetted pool. Take a break for a nice cup of rosehip tea in the lobby (with your robe on) and go back and do it all again.
You’d be remiss if you didn’t treat yourself to the salt scrub, a vigorous rubdown of nearly every square centimeter of your skin (even between your fingers and toes). Curtained spaces provide privacy while the scrubber smears your skin with a mixture of creamy cocoa butter and coarse mineral salt, eliminating any dead skin cells that dare to hang on. Next, the scrubber slathers you with fragrant, thick, locally produced honey, lightly massages your scalp, washes your hair with a sea kelp conditioner, and, finally, sprays you with scented rose water, just like Egyptian royalty. You emerge with super-silky skin.
All of this steaming, sweating, floating, and pampering can be tiring, so if you need to relax in between, head upstairs to the newly added nap room—go on same-sex day and you can even enjoy sleeping in the nude.
Single visit $25; stay as long as you like and use the pools, Russian room, and steam room. Robes rent for $3; scrubs are $30 for 20 minutes, $50 for 40 minutes, $75 for 60 minutes; massage is $65 for 60 minutes and $95 for 90 minutes.
