Heat. Cold. Community.
A dedicated contrast therapy space for Eastbourne. Cedar saunas. Proper ice baths. One open room, with good people in it.
Join the waitlistEastbourne, East Sussex — Opening 2027
An hour. Heat, then cold, then back again. Around good people.
That's it. No app telling you what to do, no one gasping for the camera. Just a warm room, cold water, and the feeling after.
Come for yourself. Come for the company. Both are the right reason.
Two cedar saunas, built properly. Fifteen minutes in and your shoulders drop. Twenty and you've stopped thinking about whatever you walked in with.
Three purpose-built ice baths, always cold, always clean. The first thirty seconds are hard. That's the point. Then your breath settles and you're more awake than you've felt in a long time.
A social space between rounds, not a corridor. People talk here. Properly, without phones. You'll come for the heat and cold. You'll come back for this.
We're building the brand first — out loud, on our social channels — while we search for the right space. These are concept visuals of where it's heading: one open room in a converted industrial unit. Tall ceilings, honest materials, a lot of warm light. Concrete that looks like concrete. Timber that looks like timber.
Concept visuals. Real photos coming once the walls are up.
I first sat in a sauna at 18.
Before that, life had mostly been about competitive sport, being the best player I could. The swimming pool, then cricket.
What I didn't expect in the sauna was the conversation. People who'd barely met each other, opening up with no phones in sight — just people being present with one another. I'd never seen strangers get that open that fast, and it seemed like the room did it to them. It became a daily habit.
The ice came later. Brisbane, 2023. I was labouring long days in the Australian heat, and one Sunday I stumbled into a small contrast therapy space. The cold hit and every instinct said get out. I stayed, kept my breathing steady, kept my focus there instead of on the cold — and somewhere in that thirty seconds my mind started picking up on things I wouldn't normally notice. Birdsong. For the first time in a while, I wasn't replaying the past or planning the next thing. I was just there. Thirty seconds was enough.
Cricket kept taking me back — three winters in Australia over three years, the last two in Perth, working the floor at one of the best contrast therapy spaces in the country. I watched builders, teachers, athletes and retirees walk out of the same sauna feeling the same thing. That's what stayed with me.
By then it wasn't something I only did on a Sunday. There's a sauna and an ice bath at home now, and most days start there. Not because it's a routine but because it works.
Every time I came back to Eastbourne, I looked for somewhere that felt like that. Nothing came close. And I noticed something else — people here wanted a different option to a bar on a Friday night. Somewhere to be social, to do something that actually lined up with how they wanted to feel, and to leave better than they arrived.
So I decided to build it.
I sat on the idea for months. Why me? The risk of getting it wrong. What people might think. I kept finding reasons not to.
Then one Sunday in Perth, after church, someone was praying for me. Asking God what was next, post-cricket, post-Perth. Before I'd said a word about it, my dad turned to me and told me this was the thing. Not a suggestion but a certainty. I realised all the arrows point to this. I started the plan that day.
I'm building this with my family behind me, my partner Abbey as the first face you'll see when you walk in, and a lot of gratitude for the people in Australia who taught me how to do saunas properly.
We start in Eastbourne, East Sussex. Not because it's the easiest place to start, but because it's home. And honestly, I'm grateful it gets to be here.
I want Revival Space to be simple. A place where you arrive carrying whatever the day has given you, spend an hour in heat and ice around good people, and leave feeling slightly more like yourself.
“Arrive carrying whatever the day has given you. Leave feeling slightly more like yourself.”
The waitlist is open.
— Tom
Sessions are an hour, on the hour. Smaller sessions, never crowded, across two saunas and three ice baths. Come for yourself or come for the company — either way you'll leave better than you arrived.
One session, no commitment. The right place to start if you've never done this before.
Four sessions, yours to use. For people who know they'll be back but aren't ready to call it a habit yet.
One session a day, every day if you want it. For people who've felt the difference and want it built into their week.
The first thirty. A price locked for life. Waitlist members get first refusal.
Prices and booking open closer to launch. Join the waitlist and you'll hear first.
Yes. Nobody's timing you and nobody's watching. Most people manage a minute on their first go, and a minute is plenty. The sauna's right there when you've had enough.
Swimwear or activewear, two towels — one to sit on and one to dry off — and a water bottle to refill and stay hydrated. We have hydration salts available to purchase. Showers and changing rooms are on site. Leave your phone in the locker — you'll be glad you did.
One hour. Most people do two or three rounds of heat and cold in that time, with a sit-down between. There's no set routine — you'll find your rhythm quickly.
For most healthy adults, yes. If you're pregnant, have a heart condition, high blood pressure, or any condition you're unsure about, speak to your GP first. Everyone completes a short health form before their first session.
No. Builders, teachers, sea swimmers, retirees, people who've had a rough week. If you're willing to try, it's for you.
Yes. NHS staff and Blue Light Card holders, students, and over-65s all get a reduced rate. And if money's the thing standing between you and the door, talk to us — quietly, no forms, no fuss. We'll sort something.
18 and over, for now. If you've got family or friends under 18 who'd want to come with you, get in touch — that might change, and it helps to know who's asking.
2027. The waitlist is where we'll say exactly when. Founding member spots go to the waitlist first.
The plan's done. The brand's locked. We're searching daily for the right space. Doors open 2027.
Join the waitlist and you'll hear before anyone else — opening date, founding member spots, and the first sessions. No spam, no daily emails. Just the things worth knowing.
Thanks, you're on the list.
Founding member places are limited to thirty. Waitlist first.
