Gone fishing

Dear Readers: I am on the island of Colonsay. I am ON HOLIDAY. I sort of forgot to tell you. As you can see, there is actually internet, even here on a tiny island in the Hebrides. I could do a blog. I could tell you of sea birds and wide skies and fierce sheep and beaches as white as the Caribbean. I could tell you of Stanley the Dog's first ferry boat ride.

I COULD.

But I won't.

Because this is my five precious days of holiday this summer and even though of course the puritan voice in my head says that there should be no such thing as holiday, not when the world is so fraught with all the things it is fraught with, and not when I have to write a book, and not when there is all the HorseBack stuff to do, and not and not and not, I am in fact going to close down the computer now and not write another word.

I am going to read Scoop, which I suddenly realise I have not read for twenty years. Can't really think of a finer treat.

The only, only use of the internet I shall make is to listen to Test Match Special tomorrow, via the miracle of the BBC iPlayer. Somehow, they can send wi-fi all the way across the sea from Oban, but they cannot send radio waves for the old school kind of wireless. The people in this nice place shall think me very odd as I sit with an earpiece in, muttering 'my dear old thing' under my breath.

The angels of the world wide web even align and make me forget my email password. I am going to live for a moment, in this rushing world of technology, away from internet, away from email, away from all. And when I get home, I shall take the weekend off too, and watch a bit of racing and sit very still in my room, and come back to you on Monday week, restored and renewed. I shall tell you what it is like to exist happily with only boots and elements and a dog and a good old papery book.

PS. I'm not actually fishing, despite the title of this blog. I just like that expression. It's the kind of thing old-timers used to write on a sign, and hang on the door of their shacks, when they were taking a step out of the world. It will do for me now.