Aire Ancient Baths, Toronto: The experience
The darkness smacks me in the face as I stumble over myself into Aire Ancient Baths, one of the latest Toronto spas to open. The international chain houses its spas in restored historical buildings in cities all over the world, and this location is no different. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust from the bright courtyard at Front and Portland to the dimly lit lobby. Sinking into a couch to wait for my turn to enter the change rooms, I start to notice the shelves of ancient-looking books, glowing candles and a flickering fireplace.
Guests are brought in individually (unless you’ve arrived with someone), each with their own attendant to show them around and help them settle in. The change rooms are brighter than the lobby, but not by much, and I’m not entirely sure I’ve managed to wipe off all my makeup before heading into the baths. But I quickly find out that it doesn’t matter what I look like, because no one can see me anyway.
Yet another attendant tours me around the dark, cavernous space, pointing out each glowing turquoise pool and explaining its temperature and features. It feels more like being in a temple where I’ve come to heal and worship my body rather than a luxurious spa for pampering. The stone walls and floors are lined with real candles, spreading a warm orange glow that’s mimicked by the unseen lights that actually illuminate the space. The other guests are just silhouetted shapes moving through the darkness — I can’t make out anyone’s face or defining features. It adds a feeling of serene privacy to the experience.
With our eyesight dimmed, the volume is cranked on the meditative, hymn-like music. Coupled with the ever-gurgling sound of the water — whether from a large stone fountain or from the pools themselves is unclear — it fills my head, preventing my thoughts from wandering to work or chores or other distractions. I’m wholly in the moment, focused entirely on myself, languorously moving from one pool to the next.
Aire Ancient Baths, Toronto: The features
Between the varying temperature baths, a sauna and a steam room, there’s plenty to explore during the 90-minute session. A warm, salt-filled pool allows you to float endlessly, staring up at the large wooden beams intersecting the gaping double-high ceiling. I’ve never been a fan of those frigid, icy cold plunges, so I’m relieved to see that among the three cooler baths, there’s one inside the steam room and one that’s a refreshing 14 C, which is more my speed. If you can manage to dunk your head under the water in a hot tub (ick, I know) and swim through a little door, you’ll be outside, soaking in the heat of the pool and staring up at the sky.
Aire Ancient Baths, Toronto: The treatments
There’s no set time for treatments, no clocks to be seen in the baths, and phones are securely stowed away in lockers. If you’ve booked a treatment, an attendant will simply come and find you at some point during your time in the baths and escort you to one of the many rooms upstairs. I was sceptical about receiving a massage from a “wellness practitioner” who isn’t an RMT, but five minutes in, I’m desperately holding in the urge to gasp a series of expletives as I receive one of the best massages of my life from Hassana, who is exceptionally professional and soothing throughout the experience.
Aire Ancient Baths, Toronto: The extras
The thoughtful touches are really what set Aire apart from the other hydrotherapy circuit spas I’ve been to. In the lockers, guests are given a little foot mat so bare feet or socked footies never have to touch the ground. (Thank god, because the hopping-on-one-foot-floor-is-lava game of trying to get my outdoor shoes off and on is never fun.) Change rooms are fully stocked with a whole arsenal of lotions and potions — they even stock Black hair care products, which is rare to see at any spa.
During my massage, my wellness practitioner takes the liberty of warming up my wet swimsuit for me before I have to slither back into it. Guests can serve themselves from coolers of water or pots of hot tea throughout the space, but the cordial staff somehow manage to always be nearby but never intrusive, in case you need anything at all.
To signal when the session is halfway through and when it’s finished, an attendant walks through the baths tapping a singing bowl, but no one rushes me, even as I exit sluggishly, prolonging my visit for just another moment.
Aire Ancient Baths, entry from $205, beaire.com
