Hot, naked fun: Why young Koreans flock to saunas in search of digital detox

Attendance at neighborhood public bathhouses — once a cornerstone of daily life in Korea — has been in decline for years, battered by the pandemic, rising utility costs and changing lifestyles.

Yet even as many facilities continue to close, a surprising new generation is rediscovering sauna culture. Some are returning to neighborhood bathhouses, while others are embracing premium sauna clubs, gym saunas and curated wellness experiences.

In Korea, the term “sauna” is often used interchangeably with neighborhood bathhouses, which typically combine hot and cold baths with dry and steam saunas. Jjimjilbang expand the experience with themed heated rooms, communal lounges, dining areas and even sleeping quarters. Together, they have long formed the backbone of the country's bathing culture.

For Shim, a 29-year-old office worker in Gangnam District, southern Seoul, visiting the sauna has become an essential part of his post-work routine. He enjoys the physical release of alternating between heat and cold so much that he recently joined a gym specifically for its sauna facilities.

"I try to spend time in the sauna even if I don't have time to work out," Shim said. "I go at least four times a week." 

His routine rarely changes: five minutes in the hot bath, five minutes in the sauna and a three-minute cold plunge.

"Especially in winter, I really feel my body recovering afterward," he said.

Once regarded as spaces frequented mainly by older generations, Korea’s bathing culture is attracting a younger audience.

According to Naver DataLab, the number of searches for the term "sauna" by people in their 20s and 30s in March increased 31 percent from the same month last year, while searches by people in their 50s declined over the same period.

Why are young Koreans returning to a culture many had assumed was fading away?

More than just getting clean

For many young sauna enthusiasts, the appeal begins with something increasingly difficult to find — uninterrupted time.

For 33-year-old Sim Yong-seok, who runs a sauna curation page on Instagram, the heat offers a rare chance to disconnect.

"I can't bring my phone inside, so it becomes a forced digital detox," Sim told the Korea JoongAng Daily. "But beyond that, it's simply one of the most relaxing experiences I know."

Although Sim first became interested in sauna culture while living in Finland, he started his account to encourage Koreans to rediscover the bathhouses already scattered throughout their own neighborhoods.

Another office worker in her early 30s who posts under the name Saunabum said the time spent alternating between hot and cold temperatures creates one of the few moments in her day when everything else fades away.

"In there, it's just me and the heat," she said. "It gives me space to empty my mind."

The shift is also visible online.

The creator behind Godoghan Sauner, an Instagram account with more than 120,000 followers, said questions from younger users have evolved dramatically.

"In the beginning, people mostly asked whether a bathhouse was clean," the creator said.

"Now they ask about the sauna's layout, the temperature of the dry room, the cold plunge and whether there's an outdoor bathing area. As saunas become a personal hobby, people are looking for increasingly detailed information."

Rediscovering a communal tradition

Public bathhouses have long served as neighborhood gathering places, where people regularly chatted with neighbors while bathing.

Today's young Koreans are embracing that communal aspect differently. Rather than visiting out of habit or necessity, many are intentionally seeking out sauna communities, organizing group outings and turning bathhouses into destinations for social connection.

"We're seeing a strong connection between local running culture and saunas," said Lee Soo-jin, a research fellow at the Consumer Trend Center at Seoul National University (SNU).

"Young people are organizing group runs followed by group sauna visits, while dedicated clubs and festivals are forming around the lifestyle."

Last year, Sim launched Saunaship — a combination of "sauna" and "relationship" — as a social gathering for sauna enthusiasts.

The inaugural event in Hapjeong-dong in Mapo District, western Seoul, featured tent saunas, ice baths, yoga sessions and meditation. To encourage conversations among strangers, Sim invited speakers ranging from the CEO of a matchmaking company to fitness experts.

"People in their early and mid-20s often come because they're curious about the trend," Sim said. "Those in their late 20s and 30s tend to enjoy it because they're already familiar with the culture."

Interest has also spilled into retail and online communities.

In May, Royal&Co. House hosted a bathhouse-themed market in Gangnam District selling sauna-inspired merchandise and toiletries. Communities such as Mondaysauna, known for events including "sauna raves," club-like events featuring DJs with tent saunas set up, have attracted tens of thousands of Instagram followers, while posts looking for sauna buddies have become increasingly common on the secondhand marketplace Karrot.

Wellness over necessity

The revival comes at a critical moment for Korea's bathhouse industry.

According to the Ministry of Health and Welfare, the number of public bathhouses nationwide has fallen from a peak of 10,098 in 2001 to 5,668 last year.

Yet rather than preserving bathhouse culture in its traditional form, younger consumers are reshaping it.

Many distinguish between spending an afternoon at a neighborhood jjimjilbang and following a structured sauna routine built around cycles of dry heat, steam and cold plunges. At the same time, others are seeking out premium sauna clubs and wellness facilities, showing that the renewed interest extends beyond traditional bathhouses.

Unlike luxury hotel spas, neighborhood bathhouses remain inexpensive enough to visit regularly, making them an accessible way to build a wellness routine rather than an occasional indulgence.

"For me, a jjimjilbang is where you spend the day eating snacks and relaxing," said the owner of the sauna curation account Saunabum. "A sauna is about following a deliberate wellness routine."

For SNU research fellow Lee, however, the resurgence reflects something deeper than evolving fitness habits.

"It seems many young people feel that, in a rapidly changing and unpredictable society, one of the few things they can truly control is their own health and body," Lee said.

"They increasingly see wellness as a form of luxury — something that requires time, effort and money to actively pursue. Rather than spending on expensive luxury goods, they're investing in healthy habits that help them care for themselves."

The trend is also attracting international visitors. According to travel platform Creatrip, spending at private seshin shops — which offer personalized Korean body scrubs where you soak in warm water to loosen dead skin before scrubbing it away — surged 462 percent in the first half of the year compared with the same period last year. In addition, spending on spa-related experiences rose 67 percent, underscoring the growing appeal of Korea's bathing culture.

What was once an ordinary neighborhood amenity is being reinterpreted by a younger generation as a place for recovery, community and intentional rest.

"I don't think this is a fleeting fad," said the creator of Godoghan Sauner. "Saunas are becoming a core pillar of wellness culture. What used to be seen as a space mainly for middle-aged and older people has become somewhere anyone, regardless of age or gender, can find their own way to rest."

BY CHO JUNG-WOO   [[email protected]]