And of course you should always be naked in the sauna.
But sometimes Swedes get in trouble with the law for being naked at home.
Couples piggyback through deeper waters like pairs of mating frogs. A century ago Germany's spa scene was strictly high society.
Others steam outside in thermal rockpools, wallowing like blissed-out manatees. The likes of King Edward VII and Russian Tsar Nicholas II "took the waters" in ritzy retreats such as Bad Homburg and Marienbad.
But to the naïve eyes of my wife and I, the scene seems almost Bacchanalian, a hedonistic playground as painted by Hieronymus Bosch.
Hundreds of happy bathers aged from 18 to 80 splash naked in 34C healing springs.
The people on strange select interviewees with a variety of perspectives, conservative as well as liberal.
I've never even come close to having a against the chamber face.
Frequently, though, bathing was divided by gender, especially when it came to the other life rituals that took place in the bathhouse.
Even though I spent a significant amount of time in the Motherland — a month living in a Siberian village on Lake Baikal, fourteen months in St.
Petersburg, and a month studying in Moscow — I never had a proper public Russia’s history of bathhouses has been documented from as early as 1113, when the apostle, Andreas, went to Russia on missionary work: “l saw the land of the Slavs, and while I was among them, I noticed their wooden bath-houses.
Then they drench themselves with cold water, and thus are revived.” The mindset is that “to achieve true rejuvenation one must experience a close encounter with death.” Saunas are common throughout many countries in Northern Europe, as a cold shower would be deadly during the long winter, but in Russia in particular, sweating is considered a healthy practice.
“From 1877 to 1911, more than 30 medical dissertations were published in Russia about the healing powers of the bania,” writes Mikkel Aaland.