How the shepherd’s hut became the last word in luxury

I wake to a lingering dampness. The air feels cold – and thick, as if it’s heaving with the historic breath of every hiker who has ever spent the night here. There are bodies in sleeping bags scattered around; they look like multicoloured logs. I roll onto my side, and pick up my phone to check my Oura sleep score. No service.

I wouldn’t say it was a comfortable night’s rest. It’s 5am and I slept in a bothy, an ancient farmland refuge deep in the heart of Wales. My back feels stiff,…