It’s late afternoon and low tide when I park my little red rental car in front of Connemara Seaweed Baths in Clifden, Ireland, a coastal town just over an hour’s drive northwest of Galway. My shoulders are tense, primarily from the twisting Irish lanes during my first-ever week of driving on the left. Perhaps they’re also tense knowing what awaits me: two hours of soaking in a tub of slick, slimy seaweed.
When I initially planned this Ireland road trip—and stumbled upon the concept of seaweed bathing—I was intrigued. Quirky, culturally specific wellness practice? Count me in.
Now that the moment is here, I’m apprehensive. Seaweed is what I usually yelp and swim away from if my toes encounter its slippery fronds in an ocean. But perhaps in the more controlled environment of a spa, I can receive some of its purported benefits—of which there are many.
History and benefits of seaweed bathing
Seaweed bathing is sometimes referred to as Ireland’s oldest spa treatment. After all, seaweed and algae are some of the oldest forms of complex life on this planet. Neil Walton, owner of VOYA Seaweed Baths in Strandhill, County Sligo, says that dedicated seaweed bathhouses started popping up in the early 1800s, but he adds, “In saying that, there seems to be evidence that seaweed bathing went back much longer than that; however, it would have been a very personal experience.”
In the early 1900s, Ireland had approximately 300 bathhouses dedicated to what have some called Ireland’s only indigenous therapy. However, these numbers dwindled as people moved to cities and in-home baths became more commonplace.
Most of Ireland’s original 19th- and 20th-century bathhouses fell into disuse or were destroyed by hurricanes. One exception is Kilcullen’s Bath House, which opened in 1912 and remains in operation today in Enniscrone, County Sligo, under the fifth generation of its founding family. In 2000, it was joined by VOYA, the earliest in Ireland’s “second wave” of seaweed bathing. Now a slew of new spas have opened along the Atlantic shores of counties such as Sligo, Mayo, and Galway.
According to Walton, Ireland’s seaweed-bathhouse resurgence can be felt especially along the Wild Atlantic Way, the 1,500-mile driving route that hugs the country’s western coast. “The supply of fresh wild seaweed and the quality of the water [in this area] is a big factor, as well as the old wisdom of seaweed bathing,” he says.
“We feel that VOYA Seaweed Baths aided the revival in seaweed bathing, as we were the first [new] seaweed baths to be established in nearly 80 years in Ireland,” says Walton. “Others followed in time.”
One of those is Connemara Seaweed Baths, where I’m bathing today.
“[Seaweed] is the purest and simplest organic treatment for our skin,” says Brian Foyle, owner of Connemara Seaweed Baths. “Our hand-harvested detoxifying seaweed baths deeply moisturize your skin, promote healing, increase circulation, and are stress relieving.” Skin conditions like eczema, dermatitis, psoriasis, and acne can particularly benefit, he tells me.
“More and more people are understanding the benefits of thalassotherapy,” says Foyle. Thalassotherapy, a term coined in 1867, refers to using seawater and associated substances like seaweed for health benefits.
The scientific evidence regarding the benefits of sitting in a bath of seaweed isn’t exactly extensive. Still, proponents of Ireland’s seaweed baths often cite absorption of seaweed’s iodine content—an essential mineral—as well as its anti-radiation, anti-bacterial, and anti-pollutant properties as sources of its benefits.
Beyond bathhouses, there are also a number of Irish seaweed products you can take home. VOYA’s are the most ubiquitous. The internationally distributed luxury skincare brand has local roots: It was founded by Mark Walton, brother of Neil Walton, who opened VOYA Seaweed Baths. Connemara Seaweed Baths also offers a selection of skincare products from Rí Na Mara, an Irish-owned cosmetics company that uses organic, hand-harvested seaweed from the coast of Connemara.
Photos by Sarah Bence
The art of the seaweed bath
When I arrive at the spa’s front desk, I’m given a white robe, a cold bottle of iced tea, and a rundown of seaweed bathing protocol. First, I’m to sit in the steam room, which will open my pores, then soak in the saltwater seaweed bath, and finally take a dip in the outdoor cold plunge pool to close my pores.
The seaweed bath is, quite literally, a bath. And in the center of my white, claw-footed tub sits a heap of seaweed. It quickly expands when a bucket of boiling hot salt water is poured over it.
I slip one foot and then my whole body into the steaming water. I’d like to say that the tension of driving immediately lifts from my shoulders, but it doesn’t. My first impression, actually, is the smell. The salty, briny stench is everywhere, but it doesn’t disturb me. It’s immersive. As I layer the seaweed over my legs and arms, I notice that some leave a silky coating, while others just feel rubbery. Barnacles cluster along some of the dark green leaves. I even pluck off a couple of small snails.
After all, the seaweed (Fucus serratus, or toothed wrack) was harvested locally along the Irish Atlantic coast this morning, before being hand-cut and quick-rinsed by the bathhouse owner himself. That coast is visible from the spa’s cold plunge. Beneath the balcony, the Owenglin River connects to Clifden Bay, but all that’s visible at low tide is pile upon pile of seaweed, and fishing boats tilted in the wet sand. It’s clear that the seaweed in my bath didn’t have to travel far.
Eventually, it’s time to drain the bath. I’m struck by the silliness and simplicity of this ritual. Outside the window lies an expanse of seaweed that I’d actively avoid when swimming. Instead, I’ve spent an hour sitting in a tub full of it.
This is not to say that all the wildness has been manicured from this experience. In fact, it’s this juxtaposition of the natural world with the human-constructed wellness routine that makes it special. My skin feels soft—whether from iodine-rich seaweed residue or from soaking for an hour in hot salt water, it’s hard to say. My mind is calm, and I feel ready to return to my rental car and tackle the Irish lanes.
Where to go seaweed bathing in Ireland
Seaweed bathing is an ancient Irish ritual having a revival. Below are six stops for a seaweed bath on your next Irish road trip.
Connemara Seaweed Baths
Website | Market St., Connemara, Clifden, Co. Galway
Overlooking Clifden Harbor, this spa is the only saltwater seaweed bath in the northwest of Ireland. Choose from a one-hour seaweed bath and steam ($54) or a two-hour seaweed bath and access to the outdoor thermal suite ($87), which consists of a hot tub, sauna, steam room, and plunge pool—the latter is my recommendation.
VOYA Seaweed Baths
Website | Shore Rd., Carrowbunnaun, Strandhill, Co. Sligo
VOYA Seaweed Baths is a traditional bathhouse with a modern spa twist. It’s located in the coastal village of Strandhill and has an associated seaweed skincare brand. Seaweed baths start from $49, and you can choose from ocean-view rooms and two-person suites.
Kilcullen Seaweed Baths
Website | Cliff Rd., Carrowhubbuck South, Enniscrone, Co. Sligo
Kilcullen Seaweed Baths in Enniscrone holds the title as Ireland’s oldest bathhouse. The building dates from 1898 but opened for business in 1912 (the same year the Titanic sank) and is still operated by the same family. Its process includes a steam box, seaweed bath, and seawater shower, starting from $33.
Wild Atlantic Seaweed Baths
Website | Fisher St., Ballaghaline, Doolin, Co. Clare
Step closer to nature with a hot bath in an Irish whiskey barrel with ocean views ($54). This pop-up is currently parked for the summer in Doolin Harbor, not far from the Cliffs of Moher, but will eventually find another spot. Previous locations have included West Cork, County Kerry, County Clare, and Galway Bay.
Sneem Seaweed Baths
Website | Goldens Cove, Drimna Beg, Sneem, Co. Kerry
Farther south in County Kerry, Sneem Seaweed Baths is another barrel-based bath. Enjoy a hot seaweed soak in a wooden barrel along Sneem estuary, with views of the South Kerry mountains ($52).
Seaview House Hotel & Spa
Website | Ballylickey, Bantry, Co. Cork
Pause for a night (or longer) at this old Irish country house, now a four-star hotel and spa. You’ll get a classic Irish touch as your hosts are the fourth-generation family to operate the hotel. The spa uses VOYA seaweed products, and hot seawater/seaweed baths start from $65.
Sarah Bence
Sarah Bence is a travel and health writer whose words and photos can be seen in Time Magazine, Condé Nast Traveler, Roadtrippers, and more. She is also the founder of gluten-free travel blog Endless Distances. Originally from Michigan, she now lives in London, England.
