David after a bath in ice water
I am very English. I’m addicted to fried potatoes, often say “oopsie daisy” without irony, enjoy genuine beer and believe that any communal nudity is a surefire way to further the collapse of civilization.
But here I am, wearing nothing but a pair of sneakers in a room surrounded by other men in similarly lacking clothing. I’ve only been here a few minutes and already several sweaty bottoms have slowly slunk past my face or accidentally brushed against my arm.
The door to this particular sauna swings open and a naked, elderly Swede named Kalle enters.
“Good morning everyone!” (Good morning everyone) he says to the group of other naked older Swedish men who are all sitting very close together. He stared theatrically at the wall and looked intently at the thermometer. I sit next to it (bare of course) and watch. It was ninety-five degrees Celsius.
‘This is how it is now. Ska jag hamta nagra trojor?’ Kalle asked entering the room. His question is answered with laughter and various gurgling voices. Loosely translated, he said it was cold here and that he needed to get everyone some sweaters.
I didn’t know, but I came across a sauna filled with a hardcore group of Swedish winter swimmers. This group of retired gentlemen comes to Kallbadhuset on Ribersborg Beach in Malmo, Sweden almost every day. They strip naked, sit in a sauna for 15 minutes, then go onto the pier and jump into the sea. They repeat this process over and over.
This is the Baltic Sea and you will not be surprised that it is cold. By cold I mean that when it freezes, which often happens in winter, it doesn’t stop them. They just cut a hole in the ice and dip their bare bottoms into it a little more carefully. But not much.
I recently moved to Sweden with my wife and two children, so I am new to the country, the culture and the phenomenon of winter bathing. The first time I drove to the beach in the freezing cold and went out on the pier with a towel, flip flops and zero swimsuit in my backpack, I was more motivated to tell a funny story about this “crazy Sweden”. What I found is a health-boosting, mood-enhancing high from nature.
There are many podcasts, books and articles out there about the health benefits of cold water therapy, but to put it simply, very hot, then very cold, then very hot, then very cold activates the lymphatic system, which has a detoxifying effect on the body. The heat of the sauna relieves muscle pain and the cold helps with joint problems. It has also been proven to boost immunity, reduce stress symptoms and improve the quality of your skin.

David jumps naked into a Swedish lake. He says, “The sauna and cold bath routine became an exercise in sweaty and cooling awareness.”
However, if you have heart disease, the shock can also kill you. So think twice before willingly plunging into an icy death.
One might think that the Church of Cold Water was brand new and that high priest Wim Hof was the visionary pioneer. But it is not that. It goes back to at least the fifth century BC. BC back; even Wim knows this. The ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks all took cold baths regularly, and when saunas crept into those cultures, a movement began. Centuries later, the Scandinavians took over.
The health benefits are obvious, but I’ve also snuck in some psychological gains.
One in particular is the rather liberating realization that the human body is so strange. Scratch off almost every edited and composited image you’ve ever seen on your phone. We are all lumpy and oddly shaped. Some people have hair in places others don’t. Some people have broad, strong shoulders but really weird looking feet. Some people don’t have strong shoulders, but have incredible jawlines – and for all people, it just doesn’t matter.
In his new health and longevity series Limitless, hilariously handsome actor Chris Hemsworth spends an entire episode exploring the benefits of sauna and cold water exposure. If you can avoid being mesmerized by its beauty, this is an informative, interesting watch. However, Chris is an outlier because it is his job to look like a mythical superhero. Everyone else is just as shaky and clumsy as you and me.

Ice-cold waters along the coast of Malmo with the famous Turning Torso skyscraper in the background
Sitting in the back of a sauna full of strange people, I found something that had eluded me for many years. Torn between two young children, a wife and a demanding previous job with odd hours, I always felt like I was trying to catch up with my own life. Time was something I chased but never possessed.
In the sauna, you keep track of the time by looking at the 15-minute hourglass on the wall and noting where she sat down.
Eventually you start to ignore it and go with what you feel. When that happens, you start to quit. At the risk of reading like a corny Instagram post, amazing things happen when you start to quit.
Essentially, the sauna and cold bath routine became an exercise in sweaty and cooling awareness. I am present, correct and free from the burdens of life.

One of the many piers on Ribersborg beach, Malmo
I’m also stripped of anything that looks like an article of clothing, which brings us back to the sauna, to me, Kalle and my new old friends. I can speak a little Swedish but still learning a lot. I struggle to keep up with their conversation, but the communication is not just verbal. As I sit there, I get an overwhelming sense of community, camaraderie and calm from these gnarled sauna war dogs.
I stare out the window at the Baltic Sea, sweat dripping from the tip of my nose as thoughts of my upcoming sea dive float quietly in my head. I get Kalle’s attention. He smiled at me and nodded.
It was a knowing nod to a colleague or a smug acknowledgment of his wit in getting sweaters for everyone. Anyway, I had a lot of fun.
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James is an author and travel journalist who writes for The Fashion Vibes. With a love for exploring new cultures and discovering unique destinations, James brings his readers on a journey with him through his articles.