I was born in the middle of Manchester; a buzzy city known for its industrialism. Before I was five years old, we’d moved to Birmingham, and then Nottingham, until I flew the nest at 18, desperate to get to the Big Smoke, where I’ve been, happily, for over a decade.
I am, quite proudly, a city girl. Always have been. Always will be… or so I’ve assumed. I usually thrive when zig-zagging tourists, careering down a busy street, on my way somewhere. I don’t mind stinky tube carriages or overpriced lattes. So why, oh why, has my Instagram saved folder recently become an advert for bucolic country living?
As a travel writer, I’m not plotting trips to Paris, but dreaming of evenings spent at Devon’s Fowlescombe Farm, watching the dusk, wrapped in a big jumper, with a book on my lap. Instead of spending my payday packet on sparkly dresses for party season, I’m on Vinted, favouriting antique petticoats and vintage overalls. You can’t get me out of my Gardana Clogs.
This feeling – or, you could say, yearning – for misty landscapes and simple, analogue pleasures, like the turn of a page or holding a wicker basket, affects more than just me. On social media, the ‘romanticise your life’ trend sees users take a moment to slow down and contemplate drinking a coffee alone or sketching a scene. Albeit, filming as they do, which comes with a heavy dose of irony. In the travel world, staycations are offering unplugged, seasonal experiences, like harvest dining or festive fireside reading, rooted in wholesomeness. Heck, Gen Z has even picked up bird watching.
But it’s not just about chilling out at a spa weekend. We’re pining for a time before scrolling. It’s a pushback from the digital age, right? With every AI news story notification, I feel drawn more to the past. I want shared experiences with my friends, my family – even myself – that feel sentimental, whimsical. While visiting my parents recently, a friend and I spent an evening picking apples from the orchard; and yes, okay, we took a few snaps – but no phones allowed.
So, it’s no surprise that the pull of Jane Austen’s stories feels stronger, and more relevant, now than ever. And, when better to release a film full of candlelit dances, heaving bodices and muddy petticoats than autumn? Sense and Sensibility hits cinemas in late September, setting us up for a season of wistful looks out the window, followed by the Pride and Prejudice series later this year.
Period remakes are always popular, but right now, we’re craving an emotional slowness in a culture that has made almost everything immediate: dating, communication, entertainment and travel itself. Instead, Austen’s characters must walk, wait, observe, misinterpret and receive life-changing information by letter. In 2026, this notion is radically unhurried.
So here, I’ll recommend places that’ll let you disappear from the digital world for a weekend and let out your inner Elizabeth Bennet (a personal favourite of mine) with rustic barn stays, atmospherically lit libraries and historic cottages. It’s time to roam, pine, read, and perhaps, clasp hands with a stranger at a dance.
The CandoverMegan Murray
The CandoverMegan Murray