Ask yourself: could you really live without your cell phone? I had to!

You only really know how much you miss something when you don’t have it.

There are some things we take for granted in our daily lives, like coffee in the morning and bills falling in the mailbox. We no longer think of them, they are always present. So imagine my surprise when a basic element of life was snatched from my hands, my cell phone.

In the approximately 250 miles we have traveled, yes we have traveled about a third of the way, we have seen and experienced a lot. In many ways, every day is an adventure. That’s what makes it fun and exciting. When we wake up each morning, we never know where we will sleep that night, where or even what we will eat, what we will see and do, and how we will “survive” the day. Our daily routine was torn up and thrown into the Atlantic.

Now, this amount of unknown means you have to learn to think and react quickly. Strangely, your mind flips a switch that cuts out all the white noise of normal life and focuses you on a few things – eating, drinking and sleeping. I’m not saying it’s a survival mode, but it definitely makes you see what’s important in life and what’s just scraps and debris that we pick up along the way and give a undue importance.

And in this survival mode, one thing we really need along the way is navigation and communication, in other words our cell phones.

I will never complain about the mobile connection in Croatia again. I once read that 98% of the country and territorial waters have good phone signal. The same cannot be said for the UK!

At first it was a bit romantic and quaint. In today’s modern world, this doesn’t happen very often, so when it does, it’s unusual. However, the romantic quickly becomes frustrating.

Let me tell you the story of a coastal stretch in North Cornwall. There is no doubt that she is pretty, much more than that, she is spectacular, a super model in the world of nature. It is also a technological black hole.

One day we walked all day with no phone signal and no data connection. “There must be something wrong with your phone,” my wife said all day as I waved her above my head. My connection to the outside world was somewhat sporadic throughout the trip. But a complete breakdown now is rare. “We need to find a campground before it gets dark,” I told my wife as I descended another hill to another coastal village that looked like it had been completely repainted and cleaned. They are so cute and so clean. Some of these colonies feel a bit cut off from the rest of the world, well almost from reality. And two disheveled walkers with a dog immediately stand out as strangers.

The one thing you learn pretty quickly is that if you want something in an English village, you head to the pub. The ads are the focal point. The center of social media. So with no mobile phone connection and no way of knowing what accommodation was on offer and how to contact anyone, we went to the pub. “Oh yes, we have free Wi-Fi”, smiles the bartender. This was again a bonus as not all places do this.

“We don’t have a room but if you ask Mable at the post office she’ll point you in the right direction,” he added as he poured our beer.

We now had our first clue, now to find the Post Office and Mable.

“No, we don’t have a mobile connection here,” Mable said with a huge smile when we asked. “We never had it,” she added. Was it English sarcasm? Was she joking? Mable didn’t look like a person who liked a joke. Randomly, I’d say she was a farmer’s wife. A practical and pragmatic person. “We’re looking for a place to stay tonight,” we asked.

Another customer from the post office (which was basically the village shop but sold stamps) turned and looked at us. “Hmmm, that’s a riddle,” he said, pulling his chin. Were we in an episode of Midsummer Murder? All these characters around us. “Why not try the farm,” Burt said. Another man who had appeared behind the wooden crates of fresh fruit. What was the farm? “Oh, yes, you can call them,” said the portly Mable.

“How can we call if we have no mobile signal,” I added.

It was his answer. I’m serious, was his answer. “You have two options. Either go up to the top of Hunter’s Cliff to the second bench on your right, it’s not far about half a mile, and you should get a signal there. Or the second option is to wait for the tide to turn,” she looked at me with a completely impassive face. “What happens when the tide turns? I asked. “Well, the sea stretches for over half a mile, you just walk on the sand, look back towards land and you should get a signal,” came a deadpan response here.

“Apart from climbing the hill or waiting for the sea to change direction when the tide turns, what else can I do?” I tried my best not to laugh at Mable’s stern look. “Well, you could use that,” she said and handed me a 50 pence. “Where?” I asked. “In the phone booth just down this lane,” she replied.

That’s how I found myself standing in a phone booth (first time in decades) talking to a campsite on a farm. Thanks for the advice Burt. I went back to thank Mable. “By the way, can I just ask, how do you communicate with each other in the village,” I asked Mable and a new client who was sending a letter. “Via Facebook messaging,” she replied. “But what if you don’t have a signal,” I replied. “Only when we have Wi-Fi or go for a drink in the pub,” she beamed.

I am still undecided. Was it romantic? Did I do a tech detox day? Or was it just frustrating and pointless? Did the people of the village seem unhappy, well not really. In fact, when I first started thinking about it, everyone in the pub was looking someone in the eye and not the device in their hands. We’re all slaves to our phones, that’s for sure, so being free for a few days was both liberating and limiting.

Track trips on – Travels With Toto 2022

Read more English in Dubrovnik…well, if you really want to