There is a quiet kind of luxury in watching the battery percentage creep upwards while the road unwinds under your…

It started, for me, on a drizzly afternoon in Rotterdam. Down by the docks, where ships exhale rust and history,…

On a drizzly Tuesday in Bristol, I visited a friend who grows an improbable jungle of herbs and tomatoes on…

On the first autumn morning we spent fully off-grid with our children, the house was still half-finished. The walls smelled…

Why “off‑grid” in the UK doesn’t have to mean “off‑life” Somewhere between the fantasy of a cabin in the Highlands…

Some homes begin with a sketch on tracing paper. Others begin their lives crossing oceans, stacked like colorful bricks on…

On a cold morning in January, I discovered that my favourite place in the house wasn’t the living room or…

Terraced homes have a particular kind of romance to them. Rows of brick and stone, chimneys like punctuation marks, a…

There is a quiet pleasure in cleaning a home with products you could almost eat. The gentle bite of vinegar…

Some winter evenings in Britain arrive not with drama, but with a quiet, creeping chill. The kind that seeps through…