If you’ve ever read classic Victorian fiction – Bleak House or Little Women, for example – you’ll know that tucked between elaborate sentences about forbidden love and stuffy social convention is a recurring preoccupation with wellness. If you needed to “get well”, retreating from the city was considered essential. For centuries, people ventured into the countryside – or were sent to seaside or spa towns – to convalesce, in the belief that nature possessed curative powers. It’s a belief that lingers to this day: to truly get well, it seems, you now need cedar saunas in Scandinavian forests, longevity retreats in Ibiza, and minimalist cabins in the Oxfordshire countryside – all of which still depend on retreating from city life.

It’s an idea that sits uneasily with the reality of the Tube commute or the traffic-filled drive to work. Sure, you can take steps towards grounding yourself over your overnight oats, but if wellness requires escape, what does that mean for everyone who can’t — or simply doesn’t want to — disappear into nature for a week? Despite countless innovations across the wellness and health spaces, with burnout on the rise and the lingering effects of the COVID-19 pandemic leaving us more health-conscious than ever, it’s clear that not much has changed in our approach to getting healthy. Wellness still adheres to one rigid script — but is it really impossible to get well in the city?

It’s true that spending time in nature is linked to a range of health benefits. A 2019 UK study of nearly 20,000 people found that those who spent at least 120 minutes a week in green spaces were significantly more likely to report good health and higher levels of psychological well-being. Time in nature has also been linked to stronger immune systems, enhanced cognitive function, improved heart health, better sleep and reduced stress. But many of these benefits can still be accessed in cities. Research from the LSE found that good urban planning — including access to green space, walkability and opportunities for social connection — can play a significant role in shaping mental health outcomes.

“There’s a romanticised idea that wellness lives in converted barns, wild swimming lakes and places with better air” – therapist Jodie Cariss

“There’s a romanticised idea that wellness lives in converted barns, wild swimming lakes and places with better air and fewer emails,” says therapist and Self Space founder Jodie Cariss. For Cariss, this idea carries a sense of superiority. While environment does matter, since our nervous systems respond positively to nature, she argues that cities aren’t inherently incompatible with wellbeing. “Cities are noisy, fast, ambitious and relentless, but they’re also alive, connected and creative. So often the work we need to do doesn’t require escape, but building nervous system literacy inside it.” In other words, wellness isn’t about removing yourself from city life. It’s about learning how to regulate within it.

The wellness industry has responded to this urban burnout by opening up a wave of city-based brands and spaces designed to create the restorative feeling of a retreat without asking people to leave their daily life behind. Companies like Neko Health, which launched in 2024, offer people full-body health scans, alongside a GP consultation, that aim to detect risk factors early. Wellness social clubs like London’s Mission or Othership in New York are offering everything from cryotherapy to flotation tanks. Even Tramp – the London nightlife staple that’s played host to many debauched nights out – has turned its hand to city-proofing wellness, opening a health and wellness club with, among others things, IV therapy and facilities for hyperbaric oxygen and red light therapy.

But with extensive waitlists, membership fees and price tags in the hundreds, if not thousands, many of these options resemble the rural retreats they supposedly replace, and fail to offer the average person a consistent gateway to ‘well’. But there are more accessible options too – public parks, programmes like the Sivananda Yoga Centre in Putney which offers free yoga sessions every weekend, and Peckham’s Community Sauna Bath which offers concession pricing from just £5 for those facing financial barriers. Relatedly, community initiatives such as the Black-founded birdwatching collective Flock Together and the Feminist Library in Peckham provide the social connection that is crucial for balanced mental health – and it’s fair to say that often, community can be easier to find in cities than in remote, isolated retreats.

Cities offer more opportunities for socialising and nightlife which, when not done in excess, can be just as important for physical and mental wellbeing. Dancing, after all, has been proven to be beneficial for treating depression and helping social bonding. “Life is about balance,” says Dr Mikhail, medical director of diagnostic and longevity at Tramp Health, who argues that hedonism is far from incompatible with wellness. “A few more years on this planet is not a good enough trade-off for a life without enjoyment.”

“You don’t need a rural fantasy to justify caring for yourself. You need small, repeatable acts of self-respect inside the life you already have” – Jodie Cariss

And really, it’s this balance that is a key element to feeling well, particularly in the fast-paced environment of big cities. “We’ve normalised exhaustion as evidence of ambition. We wear burnouts like a badge. Rest has to be earned and being calm can feel indulgent,” says Cariss. “The biggest barrier to getting well in the city isn’t lack of information or hacks. It’s permission. Permission to rest, to admit when you’re struggling even when the world around you appears relentlessly productive. Real wellbeing is unphotogenic. It’s having difficult conversations. It’s going to therapy instead of pretending you’re fine.”

Wellness, both in and outside of the city, has become commodified and aestheticised in the last few years. But ultimately, wellness can't be bought or outsourced. It has to be internal, not external. As Cariss says: “You don’t need a rural fantasy to justify caring for yourself. You need small, repeatable acts of self-respect inside the life you already have. [Historically,] wellbeing practices were communal and accessible shared meals, movement, rest and conversation”. These things are, if anything, much easier to find in a bustling city than in a £1000-a-night converted barn in the middle of nowhere.