It’s minus three and the wind chill factor makes it feel colder.
But Old Shaw Lane is a sea of white calm. Despite our frozen digits, it feels like we’re in Narnia as we walk past the toboganists on Shaw Ridge.
And there’s a distinctive holiday air to the West Swindon Centre.
A squabble of leggy teenagers in Costa leave a trial of snow as they stamp their Uggs. (Add a shot of Drambuie to your Latte, squint slightly and you can imagine yourself in Kitzbuhel or Chamonix.)
Then you open your eyes fully and do a quick reality check. Yes, the Berghauses and North Face parkas still outnumber the shellsuits and trainers. But only just.
And what about that bloke in the shorts and fitflops?