What happened when I tried a traditional Russian wellness ritual loved by biohackers

Independent

30-01-2025

If I were to tell you I'd planned to attend a ' wellness ritual at a bathhouse', this would no doubt conjure a mental image of aromatic vapours wafting through steam-filled rooms coupled with an air of peace and tranquillity. All of this is technically what you can expect when you step inside Banya – a traditional Russian bathhouse. But you'd do well to reserve all expectations beyond this point.
Banya offers a stripped-back experience with nary a fluffy towel or wind chime to be found. These bathhouses have become the mainstay of biohacking bros and those seeking a no-frills approach to contrast therapy – a blend of cold plunging and sauna that boasts a raft of health benefits.
The bathhouses boast ancient cultural significance – the first recorded mention of them is from 440 BCE – but today, you'll find them in your local high street, offering the same ritualistic treatments that were practised in Russian villages of old. These treatments include Parenie – a mixture of hot and cold therapy which includes being wafted and whipped with oak, birch and eucalyptus branches in an incredibly hot sauna, followed by a drench with a bucket and a dip in a freezing plunge pool.
I'd read about Parenie in the past and the concept had piqued my interest, if not intimidated me slightly. But I'll try anything in the name of wellness and contrast therapy in its various modern iterations has become a viral sensation on social media, so I was keen to see how a more traditional version of the fire and ice treatment would measure up compared with the infrared saunas and ice baths favoured by the modern wellness community.
I visited Banya No 1 in Chiswick and was greeted with a towelling robe and a dome-shaped boiled-wool hat. The hat is an essential part of the Banya experience – everyone wears them to protect their heads from the intense heat of the sauna and regulate body temperature. I was also met with the sound of buckets being emptied from a height and guttural grunts as visitors were doused with cold water.
When visiting a bathhouse like this, you're encouraged to hydrate before entering the sauna. An intense sweat offers many health benefits, like detoxification, pain relief and nervous system regulation – in fact, the heat of a sauna places the body under a similar amount of stress as a treadmill workout which can boost adrenaline and regulate metabolism. However, sweating profusely does mean your body loses water rapidly, along with essential salts and minerals, so dehydration is a risk if you don't load up on water and Siberian tea beforehand.
The heat from the sauna hit me like a punch to the gut and the room was hazy with water vapour. The room itself was huge in comparison to the smaller cedar-lined Swedish saunas I was used to. In the corner, a wood-burning stove was pumping out heat and staggered benches lined the walls like an amphitheatre. In the centre were massage tables covered with branches and towels.
I hadn't realised I'd have an audience for my baptism of fire and felt a little self-conscious as I hopped up on the table and lay face down, as instructed by a huge topless man in a woollen hat. But community is central to bathhouse culture – the whole idea of visiting a place like this is that traditionally, you'd go with friends, family, colleagues and in some cases, people you don't even know to share the experience.
I tried to focus on my breathing as a pile of ice was placed in front of my face to keep my head cool and I listened to the other people in the sauna chat about their various health routines and how often they visited the bathhouse for a sauna and cold plunge. Then the strange ritual of the branch whipping began.
The intense heat from the sauna is wafted towards the body using bundles of leaves called Venik and forced to engulf each limb resulting in a sensation that's only just bearable. When the heat hit my feet I thought I was done for and had to dig deep, practising my box breathing to get myself through the experience. Leaves are pressed against the skin, shaken, wafted and whipped while the air fills with an earthy aromatic scent and you wonder whether you'll make it out alive. Venik massage supposedly boosts blood circulation, improves the immune system and relieves muscle tension and stress but it didn't exactly feel normal.
There are very few times in my life in which I've longed to plunge into cold water – I've never enjoyed cool water immersion and the self-imposed flagellation of cold water swimming isn't something I'm a huge fan of. But on this occasion, I couldn't wait for the icy embrace of the plunge pool. I happily stood under the bucket – the sound of which had intimidated me as I'd walked into the bathhouse – and let the room-temperature water rush over me.
Then into the cold plunge pool I went. One of the shirtless attendants encouraged me to stay in the pool for longer but I had no intention of pushing myself to my limit. A dip was enough. I emerged feeling invigorated and like I could genuinely kick a hole through a wall. The whole idea of contrast therapy protocols is that you're supposed to stay in the cold for as long as possible, but I'm no Wim Hof and was looking forward to a hot bowl of borscht to round off the experience.
The benefits of chasing heat therapy with cold therapy are myriad, which is why practices like Parenie have been around for thousands of years. However, though several modern studies show how contrast therapy can improve muscle recovery, cell health and immune function and reduce inflammation in the body, this practice isn't for everyone. The shock this sort of activity can send through your body is significant so it's not recommended for those with heart conditions or respiratory issues.
But if you're generally healthy and brave, a trip to Banya could leave you feeling cleansed, vital and as though you could take on anything. I can see why Parenie has been relied on for so many years as a way to feel good and it's certainly a bonding experience, best enjoyed with others and not alone. For days afterwards, I felt more awake and focused and my sleep tracker showed that for the first couple of nights after the experience, I slept better too.
Banya is far more rough and ready than the soothing spas you might be used to, so if you're uncomfortable in enclosed, very hot spaces with strangers and you don't fancy undergoing the twig treatment in front of a crowd, no one would blame you for it.
The cold plunges and buckets of water get the blood pumping and provide a hard reset for the nervous system but it's an experience that will push you to your limits. My advice? Approach with caution and wear a swimsuit – not a bikini. This is a hardcore wellness experience, not a walk in the park.