I have been a wild swimmer for over a decade. Cold water, all year round, rivers, lakes, the sea when I can get to it. I already knew what the cold could do: the sharpness of it, the way it empties your head of everything except the present moment. I loved it. I did not need a sauna.
And then one day, a funny little wooden cabin appeared at Warleigh Weir.
Six of us piled in, mostly friends, my husband Rich among them. It was fun, it was sociable, it was hot. And I was, honestly, a bit nervous about the contrast. I had always gone straight into cold water. The idea of being absolutely toasted and then plunging felt almost violent.
Reader, it was delightful.
'I got so toasty in the sauna that when I finally plunged into the weir, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like the cold water was welcoming me back.'
What it actually feels like afterwards
People always ask me this, and it is genuinely hard to describe. The best I can manage: calm and energised at the same time. Whatever busyness had been rattling around in my head during the day, the social noise, the to-do lists, the low-level hum of modern life, it quiets. Not dramatically, not in a spa-brochure way. Just quiets.
Physically, I feel stretched and released in a way that swimming alone never quite creates. There is something about the heat working into muscles first, then the cold resetting everything, that leaves the body feeling genuinely recovered rather than just exercised.
Sleep is better. Always. I do not know the science of exactly why, but I know it is true in my body every single time.
How my routine has evolved
I have been doing this long enough now that I have a proper method, not rigid, but considered. It goes like this:
Swim first. Get into the cold water before the sauna. It wakes everything up and means you go into the heat already feeling alive rather than sluggish.
Long sauna session. I take my time with this. I want to really sweat, to feel the tension leaving. No rushing. Plenty of water to drink.
Quick dip to refresh and reset. In, out. Just enough to feel the contrast sharply.
Back in for round two. This second sauna session is different, softer, more meditative. I love adding eucalyptus oil to the steam at this point. It opens everything up.
Finish cold. Always. Without fail, I end on a cold dunk before getting dressed. It seals everything in. I cannot explain it better than that, it just feels wrong to end warm.
For anyone who is nervous
Honestly? Good. Being a little nervous means you are paying attention to your body, and that is exactly the right instinct.
My advice is simple: go easy, and do only what works for you. Never feel pressured to get in, and never feel pressured to stay in. You are the expert on your own body, listen to it.
When it comes to cold water specifically, I always say: it is better to get out too soon and wish you had stayed longer, than to stay too long and regret it. The cold will always be there next time. There is no prize for toughing it out.
Start with your feet. Then your hands. Breathe through the sensation, it passes within about thirty seconds. And if you decide to stay on the bank and just watch the first time, that is absolutely fine too. The sauna alone is worth the trip.
The moment that stays with me
There have been a lot of good sessions over the years. But the one I come back to is a family sauna, my kids, all of us together. Away from life's busyness. No phones, no rushing, just the heat and the steam and each other.
That is what this is really about, underneath all the wellness science and the routines and the eucalyptus oil. It is about being present with the people you love, in a moment that cannot be hurried.
That is what I want Devon Sauna to give people. Not a treatment. A moment.
, Helen