Of the planet. Or at least the frozen north where aeons ago continental plates smushed inot one another with enough force to form an island. Where the rock strata has more in common with canada than Norway, and we are on the same chilly
this is obviously why there is no cellphone reception and no internet.
The thought strikes a frisson of fear into my gadget driven heart, beating as it does on the 2.4ghz wavelength, expecting regualr updates and patches and new facilities on a reasonable release schedule.
I’m voluntarily heading off in the Stupid Little Car ™ 6 hours north, and then a left turn at Perth, across Rannoch Moor, which is pretty desolate if you ask me. Hang a right at the bottom of loch ness, look for the single track roads, and I’m there. Without a single access point within range.
I’m not sure this is so much as to prove that I can do it voluntarily for a week if i must, or if I need to be looking for the local chapter of internetaholics anonymous so i can get support.
I can give it up anytime I like, right?
There’ll be castles and brewerys and distillerys, and lonely tragic moors and heaths to look at. Deer upon occasion. more irn bru than anyone can shake a stick at, and Katie Morag storybooks in every twee tourist place.
Hot scones with butter.
I’m not sure i have enough jumpers. I better go pack some more.
And a really, really really long ethernet lead.