The art of doing nothing

On the first afternoon, almost everyone asks what there is to do. It's a trained question: we spend our lives filling time so we never have to feel it pass. The honest answer — nothing — tends to unsettle before it relieves.

EDEN is designed against the itinerary. The houses have no screens. The wifi is deliberately weak. The only thing we ask is that you look out the window long enough for the forest to stop being background and become event: the cloud coming in, the bird crossing, the rain walking up from the river.

By the second day, the question changes. No one wants to know what to do anymore. They want to know how long they can stay.