Christy Spring

1 week ago | escapismmagazine.com | Christy Spring

Ten years ago, I took my first tentative steps into running, wearing Jack Wills leggings, an I Heart Paris t-shirt, and a pair of trainers whose soles were as inelastic as Donald Trump's jowl. No tracking watch, no app – just wired Apple headphones blasting a loop of Like a G6. Now it’s 2025, and we’ve hit fever-pitch levels of running mania. Distance running, once a niche pursuit, has surged in popularity over the past decade.

1 month ago | escapismmagazine.com | Christy Spring

A stay at Broadwick Soho is an exercise in firsts. That is, unless you’ve previously stayed in a five-star hotel that pays homage to a hotel in Bournemouth, staffed by a concierge in leopard-print waistcoats, and overseen by a proprietor who happens to be both the son of a magician and the grandson of a professional clown. While this may sound like the beginnings of an Ab Fab fever dream, Broadwick Soho is one of the capital’s most captivating, recent independent hotel openings.

1 month ago | foodism.co.uk | Christy Spring

The first sandwich I remember loving had nothing inside it at all. After nursery, my mum would butter two slices of white bread on both sides, press them together in a Breville to make a toastie and serve it with a side of Quavers. Since then, I can match up specific sandwiches to highs and lows in my life. The pandemic tasted like Wilson’s Bread Shop bacon baps slicked with tangy brown sauce, a salve to uncertain times.

1 month ago | escapismmagazine.com | Christy Spring

Having just wrapped up the season celebrating the birth of a baby in a stable, it feels rather fitting to find myself sleeping in one. Though, at Updown Farmhouse, the tale takes a decidedly more luxurious turn. The recently opened stable bedrooms eschew mangers for super-king beds piled high with feather pillows and draped in high-thread-count linens.

1 month ago | escapismmagazine.com | Christy Spring

Taking a city break without going to an art exhibition is like eating a meal without salt, and going to one without spending £15 on a branded tote bag in the gallery gift shop is a crime against culture. There’s no better feeling than spreading your wings and embracing the culture vulture you truly are – but where to begin?