I did the usual family stuff at my parents house in Poole on Christmas Day, we did end up doing one slightly unusual thing though… at 9am my mum, dad, brother and I all went down to the beach at Boscombe Pier on Christmas morning to join 1000 other crazy people in festive fancy dress ready for the annual ‘Christmas Day Dip’.
Before you ask, the Christmas Day Dip doesn’t involve anything normal like opening presents or prepping lunch. Oh no, it involves running into the murky (and slightly stormy as it turns out) waters of the English Channel. This all takes place whilst the rest of the world are being sensible, tucked up in bed opening their stockings.
Unsurprisingly it was bloody cold and unsurprisingly it was all my idea.
Before taking the plunge, we stood nervously on the beach with the other ‘dippers’, trying to keep warm before what felt like our impending doom! I was seriously wondering why the hell I suggested this would be a good idea. Whilst the feeling drained from my fingers and toes, onlookers were wrapped up in coats chatting and giggling merrily with each other without a care in the world. On the plus side, my reduced body temperature meant that the shock of the water wasn’t quite as bad(!)
Luckily, before I knew it, the 10 second countdown had begun and we were all galloping apprehensively towards the sea. It. Was. Freezing. The icy 8 degree water completely took my breathe away but I was so full of adrenaline by that point that it was actually quite fun! Yes. Fun. Then I came back down to reality with a bang. The cold hit me like a ton of bricks. I only went waist deep but I honestly couldn’t get out of the water fast enough.