The first thing to know about the Finnish sauna is that it’s everywhere. They can be found in city apartment blocks and ramshackle forest cabins; they’re also part of trendy seaside hangouts, floating on wooden pontoons over lakes or suspended from towering Ferris wheels. There are more saunas in Finland than cars, making them both a national pastime and a cultural necessity. Even Finnair, Finland’s flag carrier, feels like an extension of this obsession: its new cocoon-shaped business class seats are designed with the same principles of warmth and serenity in mind, and of course, Helsinki Airport’s Platinum Lounge has a sauna.
I experienced this first-hand on a small island off Helsinki. On a cold afternoon, I sat half-naked in a damp, cedar-paneled room with Anna Velten, who works for Terhen, a Finnish sauna and wellness consultancy. The air was thick with steam rising from a pile of hot stones beneath the wooden floor. “Historically, the sauna was a sacred place where people came to heal and cleanse themselves,” Velten said, pouring another spoonful of water onto the stones. “It connects Finns with nature, tradition, and each other — it can be a deeply spiritual experience.”
When she began to sing the Finnish national anthem, the words touched me deeply. It’s a hymn that has been passed down through generations to induce the perfect “löyly” (steam). “Steam,” she explains, is not just the hot steam that burns your lungs, but the ethereal, invigorating spirit of the sauna itself. While the singing certainly played a role, so did Felten’s superb technique for pouring the water: a slow, steady stream of water to keep the steam soft and moist. “It should be warm and comfortable, not scalding or oppressive,” she says.
The steam engine roared, and the heat pressed me down onto the wooden bench. Felten pulled out a handful of birch branches and gently patted my back, legs, and shoulders. Vihtominen (birch whisks) are another revered Finnish sauna tradition. They are said to improve circulation and cleanse the skin. With each press of the button, the woodsy scent of birch leaves filled the simmering air. Just when I was beginning to worry that I might suddenly burst into flames, Felten pointed to the door. “Time to cool down.”
Outside, the biting cold wind pierced my skin like countless needles. Wrapped in a towel, I trudged barefoot through the dirty snow to the rocky shore of the Baltic Sea and, without thinking, jumped into the black water, cold as liquid ice. The impact took my breath away, my heart pounded, and for a moment I was in a state of pure ecstasy—the kind of sharp, exhilarating clarity I’d sought countless times during meditation and retreats. “Just 15 minutes in a sauna followed by a cold shower can release more than 30 feel-good hormones,” says Felten. “It’s a way to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life, encouraging people to be fully present in the moment, and it’s the ultimate digital detox.”
I spent the next few days chasing that summit. For a softer but no less refreshing experience, head to Helsinki’s newest luxury hotel, Hotel Maria, set in a courtyard of four 19th-century office buildings. The hotel’s marble interiors, the greenery dotting the atrium lobby, and the spacious spa were a far cry from the Spartan saunas I’d seen before, but an hour of alternating sauna, steam, cold bath, and Jacuzzi instantly cured me of my jet lag.
If my Helsinki sauna was a simple ritual and a refined indulgence, my sauna in Finnish Lapland was a wilder experience. At Octola, a secluded retreat deep in the Arctic forests of Rovaniemi, the sauna is restored to its most primitive form: a wooden hut (albeit a very luxurious one) in the snow, far from passing cars and city lights. Between dog-sledding excursions through the estate’s vast pine forests and educational encounters with the local indigenous Sami people and their reindeer herds, I’d venture outside to sweat and then cool off in the powdery, knee-deep snow.
One morning the sky was still dark, veiled in the faint green haze of the northern lights. We pulled up to a lonely sauna deep in the estate. The lake next to the cabin had frozen over, leaving only a small hole illuminated by the ice. After warming up, I went outside. The temperature of -20 degrees Celsius was so hot that my skin felt numb, so I dove in. Floating there, looking at the sky, I suddenly realized: this is not just about chasing the ultimate temperature, it is about surrender. Surrender to nature, surrender to tradition, surrender to a deeper, more compelling, unearthly attraction.
Before boarding the plane and heading home, the only formal farewell seemed to be a final sauna. In the Finnair lounge sauna, I stripped off the warm clothes I’d bought at the airport and let the heat penetrate my skin. As beads of sweat formed on my forehead, I couldn’t help but recall what Felten had said a few days earlier: “This is a rite of passage from work to leisure, from the mundane to the sacred.” This time, it felt less like an awkward ordeal and more like a ritual I was finally beginning to understand.
Before entering the sauna, take a shower, be sure to drink plenty of water or herbal tea to avoid dehydration, and wear a towel or sauna cap to protect yourself from the blinding heat.
During your sauna break, you can relax in the fresh air with a cold shower or a dip in the snow to lift your spirits.
Most importantly, don’t think of the sauna as just a quick way to sweat. Take your time, enjoy the silence (especially in a public sauna, keep your voice down), and appreciate the sauna’s deep connection to the Finnish way of life.
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