An urban chick in The Cotswolds: My 24-hour reset at Norton Grounds

Alright, mums, gather ’round. It’s a crisp, grey Tuesday morning. I’m on a train, hurtling away from the comforting chaos of East Sheen towards a place that sounds less like a location and more like a brand of organic butter: Honeybourne.

My mission? To trade the hustle and bustle of London for a countryside wellness retreat at a place called Norton Grounds.

My wardrobe? A sartorial cry for help. I’m clad in my most “practical” London mum attire: a smart Mac coat and fashionable (read: utterly useless) boots. I look less like I’m ready for a farm and more like I’m about to interview a minor royal.

I step off the train and… silence. The kind of silence that’s actually a bit deafening. I wander into the village, a collection of impossibly quaint little cottages that look like they’ve been hand-painted by Beatrix Potter. I spot a sign for a coffee shop: Sliced (Cake Kitchen and Bakery) . My city-girl radar pings. Caffeine! Wi-Fi! Civilization!

I push open the door and am hit by a wall of warmth and chatter. The place is packed, a vibrant tapestry of local ladies, from young mums to glamorous pensioners, all putting the world to rights over giant mugs of tea. I spot a single, lonely chair at the corner of a large table and awkwardly hover.

I clearly look like a city girl. My sleek Mac is a world away from their fleeces and practical wellies, a uniform that makes sense when you realise most of them have a menagerie waiting at home. One lovely lady enters with a Chihuahua wearing a raincoat so disproportionately large, I briefly wonder if it’s a new type of pram.

I order an Earl Grey and a fruit scone. It arrives looking… normal. Like a scone you’d get in any London bakery. But my dears, let me tell you, that scone was a religious experience. It was buttery, crumbly, and tasted of sunshine and happiness. It was so much more delicious than its city cousins that I nearly wept into my teacup. Welcome to the countryside, I thought, where even the baked goods have a secret superpower.

My saviour arrives in the form of my friend Sacha, the organiser of this whole shindig. And what’s the first thing she does? She takes me to feed her horse. A horse. This is an activity I have only ever seen in period dramas. Sacha, sensing my city-girl panic, hands me a carrot and an apple with the calm reassurance of a hostage negotiator. My over-enthusiastic approach is probably terrifying the poor beast, but I feel a ridiculous surge of pride. I am practically a farmer now.

A few miles later, we pull into Norton Grounds, and even under a typical British grey sky, it’s breathtaking. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s stunning in the sun, as Sacha insists, but there’s something evocative about the moody, atmospheric weather. The fiery red autumnal leaves on the main building, tangled with lush green wisteria, are a sight to behold. Nature, it seems, is a far better set designer than any Hollywood studio.

We’re here for the launch of a new wellness programme, so I get stuck in, helping set up in a magnificent big barn that’s used for weddings. The owners tell me with pride that people are desperate to tie the knot under their huge willow tree on the grounds. It’s poetic, romantic, and just like the movies. The whole place is licensed for weddings anywhere, a detail I file away for when I need to drop a serious hint to my (future) other half (if Mr Right number 2 ever comes along).

At 5 PM, the guests arrive at the Tipi, a gorgeous space that feels like a secret clubhouse for grown-ups. We’re plied with botanical, alcohol-free cocktails from The Drinks Kitchen and incredible veggie, vegan, and gluten-free canapés from The Cotswolds Nutrition Chef. I sample a taster cup of Thai soup from The Big Cheeks Cook that warms me to my (soon to be relaxed) bones. The room is a mix of local women and a few journalists like me, all here to experience this new ‘Norton Grounding’ concept.

And what an experience. The first session is Feldenkrais Movement with Silke Weeks in the Threshing Barn. Now, I’m a bit of a dinosaur, having done competitive fencing and football for years, so the idea of gentle, slow movement felt almost alien. But Silke, an intuitive energy healer, guided us through a sequence so subtle it was profound. It was like a self-massage for my soul, untangling deep-seated tension I didn’t even know I had.

Next up: Gentle Flow and Yin Yoga with Barney. This is where it got real. I haven’t practised yoga regularly for 20 years. I had a baby, life got in the way, and I started fencing instead on top of my competitive football. Those of you who have read me for the past 20 years might remember my sporty journey which I have narrated here in abundance. But yoga has seen me through everything: childbirth, grief, and the anxiety that followed. It’s a tool I’d misplaced and this session was a reminder of its power. Barney’s class was the perfect blend of calming and restorative. I could feel my stubborn, city-stressed body finally surrender.

Yoga instructors are like hairdressers: you have to shop around, kiss a few frogs, and endure a few dodgy fringes before you find ‘the one’ you’d trust with both your om and your highlights. Once you do, you cling to them like a life raft, because consistency is everything and a good yoga teacher, like a good colourist, can quite literally save you from a mid-life crisis.

By the end of Barney’s practice, I was in a state of profound relaxation. I felt mentally clear and physically rebooted. It’s that feeling you chase for weeks in London, only to end up buying a new treadmill that becomes a very expensive clothes rack. This was better. This was the good stuff.

Now, let’s talk about the sleep. I am a notoriously terrible sleeper, especially the first night away from my own (very nice) bed. But at Norton Grounds, I slept like a log. The silence of the farm, the quality of the mattress, the soul-soothing bath in the fabulous roll-top tub, and the day’s activities all conspired to give me the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.

The kitchen has the most brilliant detail: seats made from upcycled milk churns topped with tractor seats. It’s this kind of thoughtful, stylish touch that makes the place so special.

I sadly missed out on the mobile Steamy Pheasant Sauna and ice plunge, which has the best views in the world over the fields. Next time, I’m prioritising countryside bliss pampering over FOMO (fear of missing out).

This launch marks the start of a whole new chapter for Norton Grounds. The Norton Grounding programme is a weekly Wednesday event designed to help you ease that mid-week slump with calming, restorative sessions. Barney will be back every Wednesday evening from 7-8 PM in the Cowshed. There are also regular monthly Happenings, including brand-new events like Breakfast Bounce, a sober morning dance party with coffee, a live DJ, and good vibes. Yes, please!

As I took a final walk around the farm the next morning, I met a lady with a Border Terrier whose main concern was how to get her horse to ride out alongside the dog. “Countryside problems, hey?” she laughed. I laughed too, feeling a million miles from the SW London school run. I was a different person. A person who had fed a horse, eaten the world’s best scone, and reconnected with her yoga soul.

For all you London mums feeling the burnout, this is your sign. Ditch the Mac, find your wellies (or just bring your most stylish ones!), and head for the hills. Norton Grounds isn’t just a place; it’s a feeling. It’s a proper reset for the mind, body, and soul.

And if you find a yoga teacher in Barnes or Putney who’s half as good as Barney, do let me know. This urban chick is officially back on the mat.

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