s like standing in front of a giant refrigerator, but instead of taking out a pint of cold milk I’m about to step inside.

The temperature is minus 120 degrees and all I’m wearing is a pair of skimpy shorts, knee-high socks, gloves, and a sweatband. Plus a pair of white leather clogs.

I look like a cross between a sparsely clad John McEnroe and a laboratory technician. Indeed it all sounds like someone’s nightmare. In fact I’m actually at a health spa in Battersea, about to experience the latest alternative health fad: ‘whole body cryotherapy’.

This rather bizarre sounding treatment involves exposing yourself to extremely cold, dry air in a sealed room for up to three minutes at a time.

In Poland cryotherapy has become a popular treatment for rejuvenating and revitalising the body. It is also widely used by eastern European athletes as an alternative to the ‘ice bath’ to aid post-training recovery.

But it seems there could be also serious medical uses for the treatment. Some experts claim it can alleviate the painful symptoms of everything from rheumatism and osteoporosis to multiple sclerosis, chronic fatigue syndrome and depression, and even suggest it as an anti-cellulite and skin-firming treatment.

Cryotherapy apparently shrinks the molecules in the body and then, when you emerge from the cold, the molecules then expand, increasing the blood flow which then helps ease pain and swelling, as well as fighting inflammation.

Previously devotees - among them British sportsmen - have had to travel to eastern Europe for treatment. Now entrepreneur and former racehorse trainer Charlie Brookes has brought cryotherapy to the UK, and I am one of the first people to try it.

When I arrive at the London Kriotherapy Centre in Battersea I am first interviewed by Renata Sinicka, the cheerful ‘specialist cryotherapy nurse’ from Poland, and Irvind Simota, the clinic’s physiotherapist.

I have to complete a disclaimer stating I do not suffer from high blood pressure, epilepsy, diabetes, excessive sweating and claustrophobia, and have my blood pressure and pulse checked just to make sure.

Then it’s a quick change into the shorts, socks, gloves and clogs - all made from 100 per natural fibres, because any synthetics will instantly freeze and become completely solid in the chamber.

"The point is to wear as little as possible so you’ll get really cold," explains Irvind. "But obviously we don’t want your fingers, toes, or, er,anything else dropping off, so it’s best to keep those bits warm."

The face mask is to protect the lips and nasal lining, and I’m told to blot myself down with a paper towel before entering so there’s no chance of my sweat causing freezer burn. Liquid nitrogen or oxygen has been used to chill the air to minus 120C.

To give you an idea of just how cold that is, the lowest natural temperature ever recorded is minus 89.2C, at the Vostok research station, Antarctica.

Minus 120C won’t kill you immediately because air is a poor conductor of cold — if you stay inside for two minutes it will only chill the outside layers of your body, not your internal organs.

But stand in the chamber for longer than eight minutes and you’ll be dead. Seasoned cryo-chamber users have the temperature set ten degrees colder, at minus 130C. As I’m a first-timer I’ll be in for just two minutes rather than the usual three.

It still all seems quite dangerous but I’m assured I’ll be out of the chamber long before the cold can do me any harm. Irvind, who is wearing the same outfit as me, will be with me the whole way through: "We always go in with first timers so they don’t panic," he says reassuringly.

Even so, as I step into the first of the chamber’s two rooms, which measures 6m by 3m by 2.5m and is cooled to minus 90C, I feel a bit like Captain Oates leaving his tent for certain death in the inhospitable Antarctic.

I wonder if I should tell the cryo-chamber staff I may be some time. It is, as you’d expect, absolutely freezing. The cold air stings and my first instinct is to hug myself, but Irvind tells me off.

"You have to let the cold get to your body," he says. Instead he tells me to stamp my feet and shake my arms. After ten seconds, they open the vacuum-sealed door to the main, minus 120C chamber.

We step through and Irvind closes the door behind us with an ominous thud. Copying him, I stomp around in circles, shaking my arms and flexing my hands - a sort of frozen ‘funky chicken’ dance.

It’s a bizarre experience and I know I look mad but if I stop moving for even a moment I begin to shiver uncontrollably. The temperature is like nothing I’ve ever felt before and there is a needle-like stinging in my legs and arms.

Irvind keeps asking me how I’m feeling (‘b****y cold’), telling me this is all normal, and that he feels the same. Today, because of a ‘slight technical hitch’ the fog in the chamber is so thick it’s hard to see more than a foot in front (on a ‘normal day’ it’s far lighter).

I’m not scared of confined spaces but it’s so ridiculously uncomfortable, the stinging in my limbs has quickly intensified into a burning, and then a peculiar, almost numb sensation after what must be a minute in the chamber.

I’m seriously tempted to grab the large handle on the exit door and make a run for it. As it happens, I barely have time to process the rush of strange sensations when the time is up, the door is pulled open and I clatter out on my clogs.

I’m not sure about the ‘refreshed, energised and exhilarated’ I’d been promised, the main thing I feel is a huge sense of relief to be out of the cold.

In the cold, my peripheral blood vessels will have contracted to try to maintain my body’s temperature.

On leaving the chamber, they will have expanded to around four times their normal size, and the fact that my face is bright red is proof that my blood is pumping faster, delivering more nutrients and oxygen to the organs.

After the session I take a ten-minute ride on an exercise bike to boost this effect. Pedalling feels the same as it would normally although I’m warmer.

Katherine Kowalska, a 24-year-old architecture graduate from South West London, claims the treatment, which she first tried three years ago while living in Poland, has vastly reduced the rheumatic pain she’s suffered in her knees and arms since childhood. She has a series of ten sessions, twice a year.

"I didn’t notice a difference after the first session but within four sessions the pain in my legs and arms was almost gone. I felt lighter, more flexible and energetic. I got used to the cold, too, and actually began to quite enjoy it, says Katherine.

"For months after I didn’t feel any pain at all, for the first time in my life. The effect seems to wear off gradually. I travel back to Poland for treatment every six months. Many of friends use it, too, just for general wellbeing."

One of the few Britons who have tried whole body cryotherapy is rugby international star Will Green, now with Irish team Leinster. He first experienced the cryo-chamber during trips to the Olympic training camp in Spala, Poland, with his former team the London Wasps, two years ago.

"We used it twice a day, every day," he says. "Normally you need a day of rest between training specific muscle groups. The cryo-chamber meant we recovered faster so we could train every day and just keep going and going.

"It really gave us the edge. I put a lot of our successes down to those sessions."

The Battersea clinic’s medical advisor is Dr Richard Freeman, who specialised in muscular-skeletal medicine in Lancashire before becoming club physician to football team Bolton Wanderers (he took the players to Eastern Europe for cryotherapy).

He says that people must commit to ten or more sessions at a time, each taken a day apart, in order to experience real benefits. While this works for sports injuries, he says it could also help people suffering from conditions such as arthritis and even multiple sclerosis.

"We’re not sure exactly why it happens yet, but there is a cumulative pain killing effect." Some experts thinks cryotherapy helps stimulate the natural production of the hormone ‘cortisol’, which regulates blood pressure, and blood-sugar levels, as well as being linked to the immune system and mood.

Sportsmen who have used the cryo-chamber have been shown to have much lower levels of ‘creatinine kinase’, an enzyme released from damaged muscle membrane.

However, despite the fact that thousands of people have used cryo-chambers in Poland, there is very little scientific evidence to support its benefits.

But what about its dangers? When I tentatively ask Dr Freeman whether the treatment might be at all risky he reassured me as ‘a healthy young man’ I had nothing to worry about.

"But people with poor circulation, heart problems (raising the blood pressure could trigger a heart attack), or epilepsy should avoid it. It isn’t suitable for those who experience claustrophobia either."

In fact ,most of us will have had some kind of cryotherapy, quite literally, ‘cold’ therapy, at some point in our lives. Icing an inflamed joint with an ice pack or bag of peas to reduce swelling and ease the pain of minor burns, joint sprains and strains has been a common practice for a long time.

Exposure to cold shrinks blood vessels, reduces inflammation, and numbs the area. A form of cryotherapy, in which liquid nitrogen is either painted or sprayed onto an area of skin by the GP or nurse to freeze and kill the unwanted tissue, is commonly used to treat warts, and also as an alternative to a laser in the treatment of abnormal pre-cancerous cells on the cervix, under local anaesthetic.

Most recently, in November last year the National Institute for Clinical Excellence (NICE) approved a kind of cryotherapy, often known as ‘cryosurgery’ or ‘cryoablation’, for treating prostate cancer, as an alternative to radiotherapy or completely removing the prostate, also known as ‘radical prostatectomy’.

During this surgical procedure fine metal probes, called ‘cryoneedles’, containing nitrogen or argon gas are put through the skin and into the affected part of the prostate, with the aim of freezing and destroying the cancerous tissue.

This can be done under either general or spinal anaesthetic, is minimally invasive and can be carried out as a day or overnight treatment.

Whole body cryotherapy, albeit a far cruder incarnation, with less accurate temperature control, was first used in 1978 in Japan, where it was developed to aid rehabilitation after surgery; the theory was that patients would be able to stand more intensive physiotherapy after using the chamber.

However, British medical experts are not convinced by it. David Scott, Professor of Rheumatology at Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital, and former president of the British Society of Rheumatology, best known for his studies into groundbreaking drug treatments for inflammatory arthritis, is cautious about its efficacy as a medical treatment.

"It’s true that applying ice to swollen joints increases blood floor and shrinks tissue, which can help alleviate pain in the short term. But there is no evidence that there is a long term effect," he explains.

"I certainly wouldn’t dismiss this treatment, but I’d like to see a proper controlled study proving it works before recommending it."

Consultant neurologist Professor Gavin Giovannon from the Institute of Neurology at University College London is also wary of claims that the treatment could help MS sufferers.

"It may help some people with MS who find hot and humid weather conditions cause ‘fatigue’ - an extreme tiredness that affects many sufferers," he says.

"Clothes made of cold-gel packs have been shown to help some people but the effect of any cold therapy will be short-term and is unlikely to modify the course of the disease.

"Unfortunately, there are no convincing studies on the impact of cryotherapy in MS as proper trials are virtually impossible to set up. As with any such therapies, people with MS should consult their GP or neurologist first."

I have to admit that I left the cryo-centre doubtful as to whether the treatment was anything more than a short, sharp shock. It was hard to see how standing in an icebox could be anything more than unpleasant.

If anything it left me feeling worn out. But that night I slept extremely well. The next day I felt focused, alert and full of energy well into the evening. And it did seem to have had one significant affect on my body.

I have suffered from eczema around my eyes for four years; I use a medicated cream daily to stop flare ups, but remarkably, since having cryotherapy it’s been itch and pain free.

I’ve not needed to use my medication for the first time in a year and a half. As bizarre as whole body cryotherapy sounds it’s worth remembering that commonplace alternative treatments such as reflexology, acupuncture, massage and osteopathy, now available on the NHS, were once considered ‘loony’ and ineffectual.

So while it’s difficult to imagine whole body cryotherapy ever becoming mainstream, who would have thought sticking pins into your ears could become practically a commonplace pain relief therapy?

But I can’t helping thinking with winter approaching, a short dip off the Dorset coast might be a cheaper alternative, and do just about the same thing.

For more information or to book a sessions visit the London Kriotherapy Centre at or call 020 7627 1402. Costs £300 for ten sessions.