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I’m lying in a warm bed in North Wales. As I drift off to sleep, the sound of gentle rain patters on the roof above my head; the following morning, I awake to a smattering of soft birdsong just outside the window. I wonder to myself: have I fallen into a meditation app? I certainly feel calmer than I have in weeks, the ongoing soundscape very different to my usual city concerto of bleeps, pings and bustling tube platforms. But no, I am in fact nestled in a shepherd’s hut without Wi-Fi in the haven that is Bert’s Kitchen Garden.
