Here’s the thing nobody tells you. You forget your phone exists. You just sit there, steam rising, and listen to the weird, ancient quiet of the forest.
You might have a conversation that’s not about work. Or just sit in happy silence. The hot tub does the talking with its gentle gurgle.
And when you come down? You smell slightly of wood smoke and relaxation. It’s the best perfume. Trust me, your friends will hate that you went.
Final Verdict? Do It.
Is it twee? A bit. Is it wildly unnecessary? Absolutely. Is it the best way to spend a weekend in the UK? I’d bet my favourite pyjamas on it.
So go on. Find a tree house with a hot tub. Embrace your inner child. Just make sure the inner child brings a grown-up bank card and a sense of adventure.
You deserve to be a human squirrel for a few days. Hot tub included. Go book it. I’m already jealous.
