My Arrival at Sauna Cezar Naturist Resort Poland
Arriving at the gate I waved politely into the camera. When the gate started to roll back I waved again. As I drove towards the house I barely noticed the driveway heading down to the right. This as I learned later was the road to the guest house and the trailer. I parked in front of the garage. Peter, the man whom I had spoken to on the phone, came out through the front door. He was a tall Dutchman whose Polish I strained to understand. I asked him if he spoke English. He said it was just as bad as his Polish.
Peter took me inside. We passed by a stairway to the right and walked down to the door at the opposite end of the hall. This led to a longer hallway set perpendicular to the first. He led me to the right and showed me two locker rooms. One of them had an upright tanning booth. The other a sofa. Peter walked into the room with the sofa and pushed back a mirrored panel to reveal a wall of lockers. He opened one up for me. He then led me in the other direction, past other doors, turned the corner, showed me the sauna and the frigidarium, headed down a new hallway to a spiral staircase which led up to the pool, the jacuzzi and the solarium.
I marveled at everything – particularly the mosaics – sharing my thoughts with Peter as I followed him back downstairs and back through the door that led back to the hallway with the staircase now to the left. Peter went up the staircase and I absentmindedly started following him up. He stopped, shook his head and pointed back to the door. “You try the sauna, yes?” I realized I was trespassing into the residential part of the building. I nodded my head and went back down the stairs. This was after all a family business. Family boundaries are to be respected. I listened as Peter started climbing up the stairs calling, “Gosia, Gosia.”
I was left on my own. I went to the locker room and started to undress. I was nude when realized I hadn’t brought a towel. Seeing no towels on display I put my pants on and tried to head back to the car. I got lost. All the doors looked the same. One opened up into a massage parlor. Another revealed the boiler room. I found a bathroom at some point but unfortunately I didn’t have to use it. I would end up searching through the doors again later with only a vague memory that there was indeed a bathroom somewhere in this dungeonous tunnel.
I mentioned it was a shame that there weren’t any instructions posted for people who aren’t familiar with naturist sauna technique. I was assured that there were indeed instructions posted and was asked how it was possible that I had missed it. I was led out of the sauna and shown a small framed series of cartoons depicting short, round creatures with hairy backs alternately showering and entering the sauna or pool. I laughed. This was not something any American could ever consider to be in the slightest sense informative. It’s a cartoon. Americans laugh at cartoons. They don’t learn from them.
Americans in Europe, beware the cartoon. It might be the only sign you’re going to get.