I survived a week without my phone! I know that on the grand scale of human achievements, this doesn't rank particularly highly, but it was a real revelation. I wrote in this column previously about my plan to go phone-free, and some of my friends got in touch to say they thought I'd lost the plot.
Luckily, though, my wife Sofia took her device with us to the Canaries, otherwise I would have definitely struggled with a few things. For one, my Fitbit decided to stop working halfway through our holiday, as I think it had a wobble and needed me to update the app. Either that, or I forgot to put the water lock on when I went for a brief doggy paddle in our salt water swimming pool at the hotel. I can't be entirely sure.
I have decided on the basis that it's given up the ghost to revert to a Casio-style digital watch, that just tells me the time and date. No more obsessing over reaching that 10,000 step daily target, and less stress when I've slept for my usual five and a bit hours. At least I can just be cranky with my first double espresso of the day alone, without some machine nagging me and telling me I haven't reached my goals yet again. Bah humbug!
We checked into our hotel, and soon realised that to book a meal, a spa day, request a shower cap, or reserve an excursion, the easiest way was via their app. Admittedly, there were other ways of doing it, but there was a strong push towards using the smartphone-based booking system.
The only other thing I wanted to do whilst away that I couldn't is access the Cineworld website. For some reason, when I tried to check the cinema times on my wife's phone, it was blocked on the hotel's WiFi! Maybe it was the universe telling me to stop thinking about the cinema for once, and just enjoy the sunshine and the swimming pool. And the endless gin and tonics.
Aside from the practicalities, it was lovely to switch off and live in the moment, rather than via a screen. I have been inspired to try and do that more often. On Bank Holiday Monday, I took a trip on the train to Ilkley Carnival in West Yorkshire. Gorgeous part of the world if you haven't been. Surrounded by rolling hills and picture postcard countryside, it's also the home of the annual Ilkley Gala.
The only complication was attempting to get there via train on a Bank Holiday Monday. I was on a bus replacement service in the morning that was the most bone-shaking ride on a bus I've had since the school bus to Tad Grammar in the late 80s! It was definitely not one to ride whilst trying to sip a flat white or do any work on your laptop, unless you fancied wearing the beverage or a smashed Dell screen.
Getting home was just as much fun, with flash flooding hitting parts of the north, and train services being cancelled at a rate of knots. I was literally standing on the platform at Leeds looking at the train we were due to board when they announced there was no driver available! Back on the bus we went, and this time it was a slightly more luxurious vehicle, albeit packed to the rafters.
I was thinking two things whilst trying to avoid the temptation of a doom scroll on Twitter. Firstly, someone should write a play based on the bus replacement service. You really do see some splendid characters! A real slice of life. Secondly, people in London get cross when they miss a Tube train, knowing the most time they'll have to wait for another is five or six minutes. Levelling up has definitely got a long way to go when it comes to public transport. A few roads being given pothole repairs feels like tokenism, given the cancellation of HS2, and more being spent per head on public transport elsewhere. I know a lot's been done to improve things on the buses, but the trains have some catching up to do. And I say that as someone who loves getting the train.
I feel pretty rested after my holiday, anyway, and my other lesson was that social media raises your blood pressure. You can find me on Twitter, but I won't be tweeting as much angry political stuff as I did before my break. At least not this week.
