I’m not much of a lad for the birds and the trees and the great open spaces as a rule, but there’s no doubt that London’s not at its best in August,” declared Bertie Wooster in The Inimitable Jeeves (1923). “It rather tends to give me the pip and makes me think of popping down into the country till things have bucked up a trifle.” Almost 90 years on, many metropolitans feel the urge to flee. A …

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