Everyone's familiar with the frenetic energy of Tokyo, but fewer people have discovered the area's ancient, calming waters.

Photographs by Geoff Johnson

Central to the human condition is our capacity for self-befuddlement. For example: Never before did I think I would travel 7,000 miles just to take a bath.

Yet here I am, a grimy pilgrim from the West at the doorstep of theBunzan ryokan, a hushed dwelling nestled deep in the autumnal magnificence of the Gunma Prefecture in central Japan.

The sweet-faced, kimono-clad woman at the front desk speaks as much of my language as I do of hers. I know enough to take off my shoes. She studies the fax from the reservation agent and mumbles out the phonetic rendering of my name: "Ro-bo-to."

Then she stoops, carefully wipes the invisible dirt off of the wheels of my suitcase, and conveys it and me to my room. ¶ One hour later, I, Ro-bo-to, am standing outdoors in a sweltering pond of water, disrobed in the presence of dozens of Japanese strangers, and they in mine. It's how we'll be all weekend. Hadaka no tsukiai - a naked relationship. Never did I think that I would have such a thing, much less that I would want one.