A Journey Worth Taking – Reflections on the 2025 GCYFRG Writing Retreat
Ruiqi Deng, 3th year PhD candidate, University College London
As a third-year PhD candidate, I often find myself navigating the solitary terrain of thesis writing—long hours facing the screen, surrounded by books, yet feeling quite alone. When I received the bursary to attend the GCYFRG Writing Retreat, I saw it as a rare opportunity to break away from that isolation and begin shaping the outline and first draft of my thesis. What I didn’t expect was how transformative the experience would be, both academically and personally.
The journey to the retreat itself was unexpectedly memorable. On the first day, while heading from London, our train was disrupted by a fallen tree on the tracks. Plans were thrown into disarray, and for a moment, I worried the retreat might begin with stress rather than serenity. But in a twist of fate, I met other attendees who were also stranded at the midway station. That shared experience—of being stuck, uncertain, yet hopeful—became an early bonding moment. We laughed through the chaos, helped each other navigate alternatives, and eventually made it to the retreat together. It was a hard journey, but one that set the tone for the camaraderie that followed.
Once at the retreat, I was struck by the flexibility of the environment. There was no rigid schedule, no pressure to conform. You could join others for Pomodoro-style writing sessions or find your own quiet corner to work (which I often did). This freedom allowed me to discover a rhythm that worked for me, and to my surprise, I completed far more of my thesis outline than I had anticipated. The peer pressure here was gentle but motivating—seeing others write with focus and dedication inspired me to do the same.
What made the retreat truly special was the people. I met amazing individuals who, despite working on different topics, understood the emotional and intellectual challenges of the PhD journey. Their suggestions were thoughtful, their support genuine. It was comforting to be surrounded by others who were experiencing the same highs and lows, and who offered encouragement without judgment.
Beyond writing, the retreat offered moments of joy and connection. We shared meals that reflected our diverse backgrounds—local dishes, cultural stories, and laughter around the table. Game nights became a highlight for me, a space where we could unwind, bond, and simply enjoy each other’s company. These moments reminded me that while the PhD path can be isolating, it doesn’t have to be walked alone.
One morning, we woke early to watch horse trainers cross the misty countryside. The view was poetic—like something out of literature. It’s hard to describe the peace and beauty of that scene, but it stayed with me, a quiet reminder of the value of slowing down and appreciating the world beyond our research.
I’m deeply grateful to the GCYFRG for the bursary that made this experience possible. The retreat was more than a writing event—it was a space of inclusion, inspiration, and renewal. I return not only with a stronger thesis outline but with new friendships, fresh motivation, and a sense of belonging in a community that understands the PhD journey.
Writing, Connecting, Breathing: My Time at the GCYFRG Writing Retreat
Haoyue Guo, Final Year PhD Student, University of Manchester
Delayed Trains, Unexpected Kindness
This summer, I was in the final stages of writing my PhD thesis — doing revisions, checking every reference, and preparing for submission within the next two months. I signed up for the GCYFRG Writing Retreat because I was desperately looking for a space where I could focus, reset my disrupted routine, and be around others who understood the demands of thesis writing. As an international student living alone in the UK, it’s been hard — most of my friends have already graduated and left, and loneliness was starting to feel overwhelming.
I still remember the first day: my train to Kingham was delayed by over three hours. Luckily, Kelly waited for me at the station so we could share a taxi to the retreat cottage. On the way, we chatted about our research and personal lives. Her warmth made me feel instantly welcomed, and it helped ease my anxiety about joining a group of people I’d never met before.
Writing, Eating, and Belonging: Days in the Cotswolds
The retreat took place on a lovely farm in the Cotswolds — a part of England that looks like it’s been pulled straight from a postcard, with gentle hills, stone cottages, and open countryside in every direction. Each morning, a soft layer of mist hung over the fields, and by midday, the sun would come out and light up everything in warm gold. It was incredibly peaceful. You could hear birds all day, and there was a calm in the air that made it easier to breathe and think. The farm dog would sometimes wander over to say hello, which made the place feel even more welcoming. It didn’t take long for the quiet to feel less like isolation and more like a kind of quiet companionship — the kind you don’t get in a city.
Each morning after breakfast, I’d head over to the shared writing space, a quiet meeting room with a big table in the centre, a coffee machine in the corner, and a few cosy sofas in the connected room. Sitting there with others, all of us typing away in quiet focus, gave me a sense of calm and purpose I often struggle to find when I’m working alone. There was something quietly motivating about being surrounded by people who were also deep in their work. When I needed a break, I’d make a cup of tea, have a quick chat in the kitchen, or step outside for a short walk through the nearby fields. During the retreat, I focused mainly on editing my thesis and reviewing the interview transcripts — tasks that had felt overwhelming before but somehow felt lighter in that space.
We stayed in warm, comfortable cottages with kitchens stocked with everything we needed. Breakfast and lunch were simple and self-catered. We could eat whatever we liked, whenever we liked. Dinners were a team effort. One night, I led the cooking team with Alice and Ruiqi, and we made a Chinese-style tomato and scrambled egg noodle dish. Everyone loved it and ate it all up, which made me really happy! Sharing something from my culture through food was a small but meaningful moment, and it made me feel more connected to everyone. It was nice to see something familiar to me bring joy to others.
Evenings were my favourite time of day. We’d gather around a big wooden table outside, surrounded by open fields. The light would turn golden as the sun began to set, casting everything in a warm, soft glow. Some evenings, the sky would be painted in shades of pink and orange, and we’d pause our conversations just to take it in. These dinners weren’t fancy, but they were full of laughter, good food, and a real sense of community. After months of writing alone in my flat, those shared moments reminded me how much it helps to be with others who understand what you’re going through.
From Strangers to Supporters
One of the most memorable parts of the retreat was a long evening conversation with my roommate, Alkim. We sat in the living room for hours, talking about our journeys studying abroad, the ups and downs of academic life, family stories, and plans after the PhD. It was one of those rare, open conversations where you feel seen and understood. In the middle of the PhD’s often isolating final stretch, that moment reminded me how deeply we need connection, and how grounding it is to share space and stories with someone who truly listens.
In the evenings, some of us took walks through the countryside. One night, we stopped by a tiny beer shed tucked away on a local farm. Inside, there was a small metal box mounted on the wall — the Honesty Box. You simply took a bottle of beer from the box and left your payment inside. It was such a simple and surprising setup, built entirely on trust. That quiet act of mutual respect felt deeply charming!
Moving Forward
For me, the retreat was a rare time when I had a healthy routine — three meals a day, consistent sleep, and hours of uninterrupted work. I left with clearer thinking, stronger motivation, and more confidence. I began a new round of thesis edits while I was there, which made it much easier to continue working once I returned home.
I’m incredibly grateful to the organisers, especially Alice, and to everyone who shared this week with me. If you’re a PGR looking for space to think, work, and feel supported, I highly recommend this retreat. If I get the chance to attend again next year, I’d look forward to seeing familiar faces, hearing how everyone is progressing, and offering support to others as they once did for me.
I am also a Yoga Teacher
Manuela Ferreira Torres, 5th year PhD student, University of Groningen (Netherlands)
I remember that on Monday night, after arriving at the GCYFRG Writing Retreat, I said I am also a yoga teacher, and that I could offer a class the next morning.
After that, I barely slept, but perhaps rather in anticipation of the productivity I expected of myself.
At 6:00 on Tuesday morning, I went for a run to blow off some steam. The surroundings were beautiful. I passed by two little settlements with stone-walled houses, many decorated with summer flowers by the corners and doors. There was a girl wearing her school uniform at the bus stop. Horses. The palette was composed of this straw yellow, darker green, and the different shades of grey on the houses. I learned you could go watch the horse trainers at 7:00.
The sun was coming through on my way back to the farm.
Teaching the yoga class felt a bit stiff, I hesitated on the physical strength of the group and offered more straightforward poses. Lost myself while queuing a few times, thinking too much.
After a good shower, we did Pomodoro writing sessions in the conference room, so we would take breaks together. People were coming in at different times, and the beginning was a bit loose, but then we all got the hang of it. Each in their space, some in the shared areas, others on their own.
There was a lot of space to propose things, to take the lead, but also to follow along. Some people ate lunch at the same time, others came and went from the table outside.
We continued writing in the afternoon.
The evenings were very joyful, sharing foods we enjoy making, and talking about amenities. Some of us walked to a low-key brewery nearby for nice beers. Some walked back there again, just for the joy of seeing a bit of the Cotswolds. Sheep. Swans.
People went to sleep when they felt like it. Others stayed talking a bit longer.
The houses were very comfortable, and not having much around brought a lot of peace of mind to sit down and work during the days.
I offered yoga another two mornings, at the most beautiful outdoor location I may ever teach at. People joined with their towels on the grass. The classes got better, ever more adapted to the group we were. The sleep got better.
The same goes for the writing. I felt the discipline that came from the group, and the productivity increased.
When it didn’t feel good, I shared, and received a lot of support. Someone said it goes so quickly, a PhD, and it doesn’t come back. The time should be enjoyed. I reckon we all left quite satisfied with the whole retreat, especially after some sweet games during the last evening together. Wrapping up with some laughs.
I felt very inspired by the academics in other moments of the career, of different ages and backgrounds, everyone very open and ready to share experiences, while also doing their thing and respecting their own and everyone else’s rhythms. Afterwards, I felt super accomplished and motivated to keep going.
Very thankful for how things were organised, to the people who joined, and that there was so much room for contributions, but not many obligations, and zero pressure.
I’d wholeheartedly recommend joining this retreat, and hope to come again.
A welcome opportunity to meet a group of friendly CYF academics.
Sophie Milnes, Final Year PhD Student, Loughborough University
I am incredibly grateful to GCYFRG for the opportunity to attend this writing retreat at a critical stage in my thesis progression. Approaching the end of PhD submission, endless days spent writing and editing can be overwhelming and, at times, isolating, so this retreat provided a welcome opportunity to meet a group of friendly CYF academics.
It's fair to say that my approach to writing during this retreat did not go entirely to plan, as is often the case with large writing tasks. On Day 1 and Day 2, I found myself oscillating between editing and writing in various sections of my thesis with little direction. I had firm goals to ‘achieve’ something substantial during this time, and as a result, I was searching for a sense of finality, envisioning myself leaving the retreat on Day 5 with a ‘polished’ empirical chapter, or having written my thesis conclusion from scratch. Eventually, despite my initial determination to make for a ‘productive’ week (i.e. word count), I decided to take a slower approach, channelling the opportunity to immerse myself in ‘thinking time’. Motivated by the support and advice of those around me, I chose to tackle the chapter of my thesis I was finding most challenging, using the dedicated time and space to really think. I took smaller steps, getting a grasp of my key arguments and focusing on my own criticality and voice in my writing. The atmosphere and spirit of the retreat enabled me to take things at my own pace and always promoted well-needed ‘brain breaks’. To chat with colleagues that face similar processes of writing blocks, as well as more personal feelings of self-doubt and imposter syndrome, was an emotionally validating experience, and I am grateful for the advice of senior colleagues, whose words will stick with me when faced with future writing challenges.
In the weeks that followed, I found myself making a lot of written progress. I had re-discovered a sense of energy and passion for my writing, and although I certainly did not achieve a polished thesis conclusion as I may have intended, the framework I developed for my most challenging chapter remains unchanged as I approach submission and underpins my fundamental argument across the thesis. Indeed, the week’s writing allowed me dedicated ‘thinking time’ that is rare to achieve in other settings, but is a critical part of the doctoral process.
I would recommend this opportunity to fellow postgraduate students who find themselves in a ‘writing rut’ or who are approaching submission. Above all, this is a good opportunity to distance yourself from other distractions, put your ‘Out of Office’ on and dedicate focused time to your written outputs, whatever that may look like for you. I am extremely thankful to the GCYFRG bursary and wider committee for the opportunity – and I am especially grateful to Alice for her incredible organisational efforts and words of wisdom throughout.