For sanctuary

Winter is for lovers. For the rib-tickling laughter that only happens when clouds burst above the hot tub and raindrops dilute homespun sloe gin cocktails that were months in the making. From bubbling backyard waters, dash indoors to the firelight where the smell of honey-glazed root veg wafts from the Aga and a handwoven basket makes an offering of woollen blankets. These hideaways are for couples in search of the Great British Snuggledown.

Once upon a time there was just one, a solo traveller who retreated to the seaside to paint in the window and dunk local shortbread into cups of cocoa. When quietude calls, going alone is sometimes the only thing that will cut the midwinter mustard. And so we make a case for luxury idleness: throw sticks for pups on beaches bare but for seagulls, set the table for a candlelit dinner for one, and sprawl out on velveteen sofas with the buttons to yourself.