The New Normal

Where Have All The Wi-Fi Free Zones Gone?

I stopped flying when they banned smoking. Chain-smoking Marlboros was the only way to pacify the growing panic I felt as we shot through the Stratosphere at 500 mph.

This was at the time of the Lockerbie bombing. For younger readers, on 21 December 1988, a 747 was blown out of the sky over the Scottish town of Lockerbie, killing everyone on board plus 11 on the ground.

During the late 80s and early 90s, I regularly flew to see my aunt in South Africa from London on the same model of 747 that was bombed. This was when I started smoking. I’d never been a keen flyer, but now I was positively terrified. But as my aunt was one of my only living relatives, I couldn’t jib out, and taking the boat wasn’t an option.

When the plane finally reached its cruising altitude and I overcame my fear, I actually enjoyed the flight. For 12 hours, there was nothing to do except read or sleep (and smoke). There were no laptops, no phones, no gadgets, and certainly no Wi-Fi. It was quiet and peaceful. Just the rumble of the engines and those strange noises you hear from beneath. And as long as I kept a cigarette burning and a glass of whisky at hand, I knew things would be alright.

I haven’t been on a plane with Wi-Fi yet, but I can imagine how utterly irritating it must be. The whole cabin mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. A million WhatsApp pings from relatives asking if everything is OK.

I’d love to reply to that one.

‘Is everything OK? Well, I dunno. We’re kind of in the lap of the Gods. Blasting through the sky at 30,000 feet in a small cigar-shaped tube. But I’ll let you know if anything happens. If I have the time….’

So where else isn’t Wi-Fi free these days?

I saw someone freaking out in a pub in the UK recently because the place didn’t have Wi-Fi or a phone signal. The lady confronted the landlord, demanding to know what sort of place this was.

Fair credit to him. He remained calm and simply explained to the irate customer that this was a public house built in the 16th century, where people came to chat among themselves or simply enjoy a quiet pint on their own. And he intended to keep it like that.

I couldn’t agree more. If you’ve got your phone on you, you can be contacted by your boss, your family, and your friends. And who needs that?

I was on a beach in Devon a few weeks ago. I was sleeping there with a buddy for a few days. It was hot. We had a fire, we had food, and we had wine. We had no phone signal.

My friend missed a call from work. Some urgent problem he needed to tackle IMMEDIATELY, according to the voicemail he picked up three days later.

When he phoned back to see what catastrophe had taken place, his boss said it was all fine. ‘No need to worry…’

Idiot!

A few years ago, Wi-Fi was a must, and bars, cafés, restaurants, hotels went out of their way to advertise it. Now, places are going out of their way to advertise the fact that they don’t: WE DON’T HAVE WI-FI! GET A LIFE!

I use Wi-Fi myself. I’m a sucker like everyone else. But if it’s not there, it feels good. Really good. Soon, we’ll all be turning off the Wi-Fi in our homes and pretending we’re on holiday.

All you’ll need to do is press OFF on your router, crack open the gin, get in the tub, and pretend you’re in the Costa del Sol.

Cheers!

Thanks for reading this anti-tech piece. For more cynicism, check out: