<span>As I edge the car to the side of the single-track path, I indicat</span><span>e out of habit rather than for anyone's benefit, and slowly come to a stop. My water bottle is empty and the nearby river looks like the perfect place to refill it.</span> <span>I clamber down a grassy embankment, step over a few rocks and plunge my bottle into the cold rushing</span><span> river. </span><span>After it's full, I take a huge gulp</span><span>, tasting the peat-infused water</span><span>.</span> <span>I’m surrounded by boundless stretches of green blades of grass waving eagerly in the summer breeze. I hear the rushing of the stream, the melody occasionally broken by the splash of water when the brook takes a turn a little too quickly, causing a moment of friction. </span> <span>I'm</span><span> only a few miles from Barnhill, a remote farmhouse on the isle of Jura in the Scottish Inner Hebrides, and the place where </span><span>George Orwell </span><span>wrote the</span><span> dystopi</span><span>an masterpiece </span><span><em>1984</em></span><span>.</span> <span>This is the end of the road for vehicles. Lying </span><span>about six kilometres further north, Barnhill can only be reached by foot. My </span><span>journey </span><span>there has involved a ferry crossing, a 14</span><span>k</span><span>m</span><span> drive to Craighouse – Jura's only real town – and a further 35</span><span>k</span><span>m</span><span> drive </span><span>along a winding single-track lane. </span> <span>Up ahead is the white cottage-like building of Barnhill. On the northernmost tip of an island that's home to </span><span>fewer than 200 people, it comes with sweeping ocean views</span><span>. Orwell's most prominent company when he lived here would have been the thousands of deer that call this </span><span>island home.</span> <span>I'm struck by the beauty of the place. </span><span>Trees laden with blossoms surround the cottage</span><span> and </span><span>purple wild thistles </span><span>speckle</span><span> the terrain</span><span>. Stags, hinds and even a few fawns graze across breeze-swept</span><span> land.</span> <span>Standing here, surrounded by nature, it's easy to appreciate the impact it can have on life, or, in Orwell's case, on a story. In </span><span><em>1984</em></span><span>, protagonist Winston and his friend Julia feel the most free in nature. It's where they escape to for a sense of freedom. It</span><span> also plays a key role in Winston's final moment of rebellion in the book.</span> <span>That's something that's easy to forget when you live in </span><span>a city. But it's something we should try to remember, especially as spending time in nature has proven benefits. A </span><span>study by the University of Exeter Medical School found that spending </span><span>two hours a week in nature, even if that time is split into short bursts, can boost well-being.</span> <span>Starting your day </span><span>by drinking coffee in </span><span>your garden or on the balcony is a simple way to </span><span>increase your exposure to the great outdoors. </span><span>And while summer weather in the UAE doesn't lend itself to nature-filled walks, getting up as the sun rises to walk along the beach or </span><span>in a park is a worthy addition to your schedule, even if it's only once a week. If, like me, you're counting down the days until you can escape city life for another flurry in the country, grow some indoor plants, add a window box or install a bird feeder outside. It's not quite the same as being out in the open, but every little helps.</span> <span> </span><br/> <span>On Jura, </span><span>as I gaze at cotton-ball clouds drifting overhead</span><span>, a high-pitched </span><span>noise </span><span>interrupts my thoughts. Fumbling in </span><span>a pocket of my windbreaker</span><span>, I silence the culprit</span><span>, my vibrating phone that even here, on the most remote point of</span><span> the most secluded Scottish island, has followed me.</span>