Say spa, and most people think fluffy robes, soothing, monochrome decor, pitchers of chilled cucumber water and a soundtrack heavy on flutes and wood pipes. But gold-leafed pyramid rooms? Fluorescent-lit coats of armor and Italian rococo furniture? Even, could it be, a karaoke bar? Welcome to the culture-rattling thrill ride that is King Spa and Sauna, a 34,000-square-foot palace of Korean-style pampering and family fun on Royal Lane just west of Interstate 35 in the Asian trade district. The exterior's steep granite steps flanked by growling stone lions offer the first hint this isn't your standard-issue spa. Step inside the lagoon-muraled lobby, plunk down the $18 day fee, and prepare for a trip down the rabbit hole. My tour guide is Sunny Kim, Baylor grad and daughter of King Spa's owner, Sang Kim, who also operates the original King Spa in Palisades Park, N.J. Entering the spa's main hall, we're greeted by a massive two-story chrome steed rearing back, mouth open in equine primal scream. Above his head is a cartoon bubble in Korean. "What's he saying?" I ask. "It's basically something about 'I am the king,' " says Kim, "because, you know, we are King Spa and Sauna. It's like a joke, you know?'" I nod my head, but really, I don't know. By the time we enter the women's locker room – filled with naked women and accented by a glass divider etched with scenes from the Simpsons – I decide it's best just to relax and enjoy the out-of-culture experience. King Spa and Sauna King's men's and women's locker rooms offer a total of 12 "spas," essentially hot tubs, each with a different purpose. The Wormwood Steam Bath, for instance, is meant to help unclog pores. The Jasmine Bath promises to hydrate dry, sensitive skin. Expect to go au naturel. "The spas are perfectly balanced and any article of clothing will contaminate them," Kim explains, noting that visitors are instructed to shower pre-bath. Every other woman seems happy, so who am I to hesitate? Hey, when in a Korean spa, do as the Koreans do. Though the spas are a good place to start, they're hardly King's main attraction. In the main hall, nine co-ed saunas (clothing required, of course) are based on generations of Eastern therapies. There's the Air Room, designed with wood that releases the natural anti-fungicide phytoncide said to help asthma, allergies and skin disorders. Then there's the Yellow Soil and Wormwood Room, with amethyst geode niches and chunky black charcoal. Kim says the crystals produce skin-penetrating "far infrared rays" to kick-start metabolism, while the charcoal absorbs toxins. Even more out there is the purifying Gold Room, a pyramid-shaped space leafed in 23-karat gold and guarded by a Pharaoh statue. The room's shape is said to channel metaphysical energies. The heated vapors are touted to fight aging, improve mental power and promote nerve relaxation. The nearby salt igloo is built with 350 million-year-old salt rocks said to help the body soak up calcium, iron and zinc while softening and preserving skin. Next door is the Bul Ga Ma, billed as the world's largest sweating bath. Four times a day, mineral bricks heated to 800 degrees roll on a track to the center of the room. Patrons are alerted by the PA system when the bricks arrive – the announcement is in Korean, but the rush of bodies doesn't require a translation. Among the bricks' touted benefits: ridding the system of alcohol and nicotine, among other toxins. I went in with a hangover and came out feeling like Superwoman. And daring enough to enter the kiln of death. OK, the room's actual name is the Fire Sudatorium, an unadorned, 170-degree room with canvas sacks as chairs (without them, your derriere would burn). In contrast to King's other saunas, this room seems vaguely sinister, made of "elvan," or "living," stones (they look suspiciously like cinderblocks) and lit with a single, exposed light bulb. It literally looks – and feels – like the inside of a kiln. "Instead of sweating from the first three layers of your skin, you're sweating from your core," explains Kim, "which gets your blood flowing and releases a deep layer of toxins from the body. We recommend people stay in there five to 10 minutes, max." In the intense heat, I struggle to sit comfortably – moving a finger feels as though I'm sitting in fire. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move my eyeballs. Emerging after less than five minutes, I feel awesome and brave and purified. I'm also panting and a little disoriented, which draws the attention of other patrons who gaze in awe at my sweat-drenched clothing. (That is the goal of the saunas after all.) A few rush to give it a try. Post-kiln, I stagger to the Ice Room, refrigerated to 35 degrees and decorated with a snowy woodland photo mural, to reset my body temperature. "The King Ice Room feels as though you are in the North Pole," a Korean inscription advises. Not quite that cold, perhaps, but still welcome after my total body baking. At Kim's urging, I cap the day with a body scrub. After a brief wait in the women's locker room, I'm called to the row of plastic beds partially concealed behind the Simpsons partition. Hmm, this might not be what I'm expecting. For the next hour-and-a-half my Korean scrubber, wearing only rough-hewn gloves, a bra and panties, goes to town. My skin comes off in sheets, leaving me baby smooth if not entirely relaxed. Word to the wise: This service is not for the modest. Afterward, I claim one of the sauna's numerous sleeping mats and, head resting on a Korean wood-block pillow, doze off. Sleep is encouraged at King. On weekends, when King is open round-the-clock, it's not uncommon for entire families to spend the night. "In Asia, space is at a premium," Kim says. "Families come here and use this as their hotel. ... It's like a minivacation." Indeed. A movie room shows both Korean and American films, and the karaoke room is a popular spot for kids' birthday parties. ("Koreans love karaoke," Kim says.) A cafe serves kimchi, or spicy pickled cabbage; baked eggs; brown rice; and scrumptious entrees such as Korean-style short ribs. Jasmine and rice teas are also available. "The reason why we're here is so that people can come here and relax," says Kim. "Stress is known to cause certain diseases, but here it's about a healthy lifestyle and we truly believe in the health benefits." As for me, I'll be in the "kiln of death," heating my soul. And looking forward to King's next phase: an indoor water and ski resort. January 23, 2009 By PAIGE PHELPS