The first day of cold bathing was scheduled before dawn, and it was snowing. Many assumed, surely, this won’t happen today—not with a forecast low of 26°F, wind gusts up to 35 mph, and a “feels like” of 5°F. They were wrong.

Then came the second surprise: clothing was discouraged—and on day one, first-timers arrived in swimsuits like sane, responsible adults. The veterans seemed to think stripping down in a blizzard was a small detail. After the first plunge, the newbies shed the extra layer, too.

THE FIRST DIP

The cold bathing took place in Helsingborg, Sweden, on the Øresund Strait—the stretch of water separating Sweden from Denmark. Denmark’s Kronborg Castle sits on the facing shore—the inspiration for Shakespeare’s “Elsinore” in Hamlet. Kallis, Helsingborg’s northern cold-bathing spot, is where many take a first “dip,” as Mia Jansson, a dipping expert extraordinaire, calls cold bathing.

Mia describes the sensory effect after plunging in near-freezing water as “champagne bubbles on your skin.” She’s been dipping for fifteen years and claims, “I haven’t had a cold since I started.” Jansson helps newcomers overcome the initial dip jitters and explains that alternating cold baths with sauna use is like “exercising your arteries.”

The moment before a cold plunge is all about internal negotiation, and it quickly becomes clear that much of the experience depends on mental discipline. A common strategy is a mantra—something steady to hold onto when instinct argues for retreat.

The initial shock of the frigid water is tempered by the jolt of walking naked, with