When your home is on this tiny clearing in the middle of the Swedish forest surrounded by miles of trees, you know a thing or two about self isolation.

Briton Will Dean, 40, and his wife Emilia, 42, bought the 3.5-acre clearing in the middle of a Swedish forest 11 years ago and moved there full time in 2012.

It had no access road and their selfbuilt home, located 90 minutes north of Gothenburg, can only be reached along a winding tree-lined dirt road, weather – and moose – permitting.

A twice-monthly trip to the one shop in their nearest town – which is 30 minutes drive away – sees them have to take a chainsaw in case they come across a fallen tree.

So for Mr Dean it’s much easier to be as self sufficient as he can be – with water from his self-dug, 110-metre well, potatoes from the vegetable patch and wood from trees around his home.

The successful crime writer – the author of a series of books featuring deaf reporter Tuva Moodyson – and his lawyer wife work from home in separate wooden huts.

They meet in the middle for lunch when work permits. Along with his six-year-old son, Alfred, he has a massive Norwegian forest cat called Monty and Bernie the Saint Bernard for company.

Apart from bears and wolves, their nearest neighbour is two miles away, and before they had a child, he would frequently go for a month without seeing anyone apart from his wife.

But he admits remote living and working is not always easy.

And, while confined Britons in the UK might not need his advice on how to keep moose off their carrots, his tips on entertaining your children in isolation might prove useful.

He advised working on long-term projects with your little ones to keep them busy and said growing things – even cress on the windowsill – can make a difference.

The couple have a “pause word” to use to indicate it’s time to take a moment away from each other to stop pointless cabin fever arguments.

And he stressed you don’t need endless trips to the shop or bulk buying to feed your family as simple, easy to store staple basics can feed you for weeks on end.

Mr Dean, who grew up in towns cross the Midlands, said: “We’re kind of set up for this so life hasn’t changed for us at all.

“It’s very quiet and isolated. I think most people wouldn’t want to live here, including most Swedish people, who wouldn’t be able to go to a coffee shop.

“But we’re used to it, and really like it. We aren’t totally off grid, but we almost are.

“When you see that photograph, it feels as remote as it looks. It feels like being in the middle of Alaska or Siberia.

“In reality, we’re a half-hour drive from a small town with a shop.

“Of course, that’s on a good day with good weather and if there are no trees you have to chainsaw to clear the track. It’s a15-minute drive to a road and you never know what you are going to face when you leave.”

Mr Dean met his Swedish wife when they were both living in London. They moved into a small flat and he worked in IT. But he dreamed of a quiet and cheap place to live where he could write novels.

The pair scoured the Swedish equivalent of Rightmove for a plot of land to call their own.

And, unlike the other adverts which boasted of charming log cabins, readymade vegetable plots and paddocks, they chose one “no other Swedes wanted”.

“It had no services to boast of so the advert was all about berries and wild mushrooms and butterflies,” he said.

“The real estate agent stopped and parked half an hour walk from the spot and we had to hike in from there. We found a clearing with a hut. I fell in love instantly.” Water comes from a 110m-deepwell with a pump at the bottom and tastes “a bit like screws” because it’s full of iron.

They are at the very end of the electricity line so power is available, but unpredictable, thanks to frequent cuts, so they also have solar and hydro power. While they went without a TV for four years, they have one now and even have Netflix and love audiobooks.

“It’s tough, but it’s 2020 and I feel so lucky I’m not doing this in 1920,” Mr Dean said.