Observations from the road and why you should leave your phone at home

Can you imagine a world where strangers interact with one another in a calm, polite and even interested manner? Taking their time to look up and notice the world around them? Actually acting as if they’re not using their handheld devices as some sort of protective shield against human emotion? A commute without your in-ears so far into your skull that the filters have melted into your eardrums?

Utopia, surely. Or is it?

Here’s how a trip to the Lake District restored some of my ever diminishing belief in humanity.

As my train pulled up to Windermere station on a Monday morning, I began to notice how none of the other travellers seemed to be on their phone. Seeing as I had a 2 to 3 hour walk through unknown territory ahead of me, I had of course spent my train journey anxiously looking at my phone every few seconds just to make sure it was still charging – what would I do if my battery died and I’d be unable to rely on the magic of GPS?

What I had done, however, was put my headphones away to preserve what little juice remained in the battery, and for the first time in a long time I discovered that the noise around me didn’t bother me at all. Because, apart from the calming chug-chugs from the train itself, there was none. (To be fair, this was the 6am service from Birmingham via Oxenholme, so it wasn’t as if the carriage was full, but still).

Myself being very me, I had discovered a gem of a place in Windermere beautifully named Cockshot Point, which I’d included in my route despite the 4 mile detour. As I disembarked the train I started up the mapping app, but left my headphones in my massive rucksack and started making my way through the town centre.

Strangely enough, the distance down to the lakeshore seemed not so far now that I wasn’t telling the time by the duration of the songs in my playlist, so I walked around for a bit before starting on the last leg of the trek, the 6 mile hike to Ambleside – still forgoing the familiar soundscape and trusty companionship my Heaviness playlist has provided me with since the dawn of music streaming.

Again, it seemed as if time stood still, despite the traffic constantly going past as I walked. The sound of wind in the trees, bleating of sheep and the lake in the distance seemed to amplify everything around me. The green of the grass, the brown of the endless tree trunks seemed more vivid than I could remember. And as I was walking along the same road for most of it, I didn’t have to keep checking the app either.

I was sweating like a pig in a volcano, but not even that seemed to bother me. Also, if it got to a stage where seeing my sweaty person would traumatise other hikers, I could just throw myself into the lake.

Another plus of leaving the music behind was the fact that I could hear the cars coming long before I’d have to find somewhere safe on the narrow pavement. But enough of all this walking business – I’m sure you’ve got better things to do. The point is, it got me thinking about something I’ve thought about a lot in recent years; that we could all benefit from leaving our devices behind once in a while.

When was the last time you spent a night out (or day, for that matter) actually enjoying yourself, rather than trying to find the perfect photo-op for your Instagram, for instance? The Internet can wait – and by keeping certain things private, they might even become cherished memories that are just yours.

Anyway, I hit Google to find something to support my theory; is reducing screen time beneficial to my overall wellbeing?

The sciencey bit

A study published by the National Institutes of Health found that smartphone screen time reduction can be beneficial to your mental health. Click on the link for the full article. Not surprising, but interesting nonetheless.

Then, on Unplugged.rest, I discovered that a study finds that only 72 hours away from your phone is enough to “rewire your brain against phone addiction”.

I’ve also been reading about how ChatGPT – and AI in general – can be detrimental to mental health. In fact, it’s dubbed chatbot psychosis. Here’s an article from The Telegraph on the topic that we should all read.

The observation

I think that the above indicates that we should take a step back from relying too much on technology in our everyday lives. And I wish, now, that I’d asked to photograph the people in the situation I am about to use to illustrate my point. Alas, I didn’t have my phone to hand.

After 24 hours in lovely Ambleside, a pal and I set off on a 45 minute bus journey that would take us to our train to Edinburgh. Once we’d stopped uncontrollably perspiring due to the heat and lack of air conditioning, I noticed something so surreal that I had to grab my pal by the arm and go, ‘are you seeing what I’m seeing?’

Not a single person had their phone out, or any visible earphones or headphones, even though they seemed to all be solo travellers. Most of them we’re gazing out the window at the passing landscape, whereas others sat there, seemingly content. Even a young kid, about 15, sat there with no phone, and when an elderly gentleman with a dog got on, he even moved to give him his seat AND asked if he could say hi to the dog. And then… they had a full-on conversation. Strangers. This type of behaviour has been unheard of on any public transport I’ve been on in the past decade! And that’s when I noticed how content they all looked, some even happy. Relaxed, even though the bus was running about two minutes late.

And that’s when I decided, there’s hope.

I don’t think fitness apps, calorie counters, games apps – all that shite – is doing us any favours. It certainly adds to the stress and anxiety in my own life, so I assume I am not alone in this. Some of these apps are designed to give you some sense of accountability, of course, but it’s just too much with the obsessive logging and the constant need to add one more thing to the list or log another activity – and what happens if you don’t make it to 300 kilometres of running this month?? ‘Heeeeeeeere’s DEPRESSION‘, as Johnny’s less homicidal brother would say.

So, do yourself a favour. Put your phone away and go for a fucking walk. Read a fucking book. Go see your fucking friend without posting about it on social media.

But, before you go, listen to this podcast episode about Hans the Hedgehod on Three Bean Salad (link below).

See ya next Tuesday.

Piemageddon

It is August. A week-long mini interrail is coming to an end, and I have journeyed to the Lake District in an attempt to cleanse my soul.

Having caught up with old friends, and made quite a few new and unwanted acquaintances along the way, I am now eagerly awaiting my pal’s arrival in the mysterious village of Ambleside, Cumbria, so that we can go on a culinary adventure we’ve dubbed Piemageddon. (Word has it, Ambleside is home to the UK’s premier pies).

What brought this on, you ask? Do I have an insatiable hunger for pie? Absolutely not. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had a single piece of pie in my life. But after seeing a rather graphic Instagram reel (bordering on vulgarity) of gravy being poured over shiny pastry and buttery mash, I was suddenly convinced that pie was something I needed in my life. I forwarded the reel to a friend and a plan was forged.

So, that’s how I find myself on the shore of lake Windermere, dripping with sweat from the 2-hour long walk from Cockshott Point, contemplating a fully-clothed swim (spoiler alert; swim, she did), before heading towards our accommodations.

I’m sure the soon to be wheatgasm will fuck up my low fodmap diet immensely, but I am certain a bit of bloating will beat the deranged occupant of the room directly above me in the Birmingham Comfort Inn throwing furniture around and shouting constantly from 10pm until my departure at 5 this am.

Anyway… What’s the pie hype, you ask? Well, the pie that inspired the journey came from The Great North Pie Company, and its shop is situated just far enough from the high street to not be inundated with the many, many tourists crowding the streets on this rather lovely day. The perfect location. (And it may or may not be the only eatery in town where you’re not in any danger of getting a serving of dog hair along with your meal.)

I’m not, and will never be, a ‘foodie’, so I will not even try to describe the meal as anything other than what it is; nutrition. But I will say this – the pastry alone had me uttering the word ‘tasty’ without even a hint of irony, possibly for the first time in my life. I do not normally enjoy food, never mind the process of eating, so this should be taken as a big sign of my approval.

I can wholeheartedly recommend a visit to Ambleside for the pie alone (there are a few other cafes that do excellent pies, both sweet and savoury, in the village), if you ever find yourself within hiking distance. The views are grand as well.

Bonus? A little peace and quiet away from the day to day is very good for my mental health – didn’t get my headphones out once for a full 30 hours. Only downside was the fighter jets that broke the wall of sound over the picturesque lake a total of six times within those hours.

Anyway. Whether you consider yourself a pie connoisseur or not, you might enjoy a wee getaway with a side of Cumbrian cuisine – just remember to get there early, before they run out of pies!

If you enjoy pies, you may also enjoy a good podcast. Find in the link below, a rather good episode of one of my favourites, Three Bean Salad.

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