The water temperature is around 9°C — far from freezing — but there’s something about jumping straight in that feels like being hit in the chest with a lump hammer. I’ve been cold before but truthfully nothing like this.
This is the kind of cold that soaks right through to your bones in seconds. It’s so cold, in fact, that getting out of the water and standing dripping on the stony beach feels positively warm. And yet at 8.20am on a grey Thursday morning in December, there are around 30 people at the cove in Greystones to partake of this daily ritual.