Super Useful Holiday tips

Why You Shouldn’t Take Your Smartphone on Vacation

Give yourself a break — for once

Next time you go away, why not consider leaving your phone in your drawer.

‘Can’t be done,’ you’re going to say. ‘From airplane tickets to hotel bookings to street map to credit cards. It’s all linked to my phone.’

You’re probably right. But here’s the thing. I only bought a smartphone last Christmas, and I managed OK for 47 years.

You’re thinking I’m another of those jerks from the smug brigade always telling folks what to do.

You’re probably right.

But look at this below!

It’s the Merlin Bird App, and it’s incredible! And is one of the many nature identification apps I have on my phone.

But I’m not going to take it on holiday with me. Because when I go on a trip, I like to do the exact opposite of what I do at home.

And because smartphones are now such an integral part of our lives, to the point where it’s become an addiction. It follows that the smartphone is the one thing we should leave behind.

Think about it.

Thirty years ago, would you take your phone book with you on holiday? Your TV, radio, music player, DVD selection?

Would you consider taking a friend? Your boss? Or your work colleagues. Of course not. But that’s what we do these days. Instead of leaving our life at home, we take it with us.

The only thing I used to take from home was a book. Or not even that. As one of the glorious things about travelling is finding a dog-chewed paperback stuffed behind a water pipe.

I found this one in a hostel in Galicia a few years ago — such a great read.

‘Yeah, Phil, but you’ve forgotten one thing.’

I know what you’re going to say. ‘What about photographs?’

I’ll admit this is a tricky one. Photos are good, but most people don’t have separate cameras any more — just their phones. And the ones that do never risk taking them on holiday in case they get nicked or damaged.

A friend of mine bought himself a fancy NIKON for his 40th birthday. When I asked him about it when he visited me here in Normandy — that place which has inspired so many of the great Impressionists because of the glorious light! — he admitted that he hardly ever uses it.

Then whipped out his iPhone and took a rapid fire montage of my garden that would have taken Monet a month to paint.

In 1997, I was travelling in Australia, doing the usual dumb Brit down-under working visa thing, and in the course of six months I took 24 photographs.

I know that because I still have them. One film’s worth that I took over that six-month period.

Here’s one below. Christmas Day 1997. Cook Town. Queensland.

I’m glad I have it. It’s a nice memory for my kids to look at.

The guy who took it though — who I kept in touch with for years — didn’t agree with cameras at all. ‘It’s all in my head,’ he said.

He had a point. But try telling that to the folk who spend their entire holiday snapping photos, then posting them on Instagram.

Naturally, I don’t expect anyone to take any notice of what I’m saying. I don’t take notice of myself.

I went to Paris recently, and I was like some kid with a new toy. Snap here, snap there. Google that restaurant. Find directions to that museum.

But here’s the thing. And the reason I’m writing this.

By the end of the trip, I was exhausted. Not just my body from all the walking. But my eyes, my head, and my brain. Simply from being a slave to my phone all day. Like I’d set on exam on how not to enjoy a holiday.

So next time, I’m going to leave it at home.

Thanks for reading, for more travel pieces, check out