Chapter 1: The Unfortunate Incident

It was a moment of pure shock when my phone slipped from my grasp and plunged into the River Wensum. Staring into the murky depths, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. The recent heavy rains had transformed the river into a dark, muddy torrent, making it impossible to see my device disappear.

For almost three years, my phone had been a constant companion. Its battery still held up well, and all my apps functioned flawlessly. It served my needs perfectly—until now.

On previous canoeing trips, I had always been cautious, keeping my phone secured in a waterproof case. But this Saturday, I made the mistake of leaving it behind. I had assumed that, while on an electric boat, my phone would be safe. Lesson learned: never make assumptions.

We intended to capture footage of the river and its wildlife. My boyfriend offered his phone, but I declined—his device lacked the sturdy case that mine had, not that it would have helped if it sank to the riverbed.

The last time I experienced a phone mishap was at Holkham Beach, where my phone tumbled from my pocket into shallow saltwater. I managed to retrieve it, but it was damaged beyond repair. This time, however, while filming, my phone slipped from my hand, striking the boat's windscreen before vanishing into the depths.

My boyfriend instantly suggested diving in to retrieve it, but I quickly pointed out the risk of Weil's disease for an irretrievable phone. Getting cold and muddy for a device that was doomed seemed pointless.

This incident cast a shadow over our outing. Despite our attempts to enjoy the river, the loss of my phone lingered in our minds, taking with it countless photos, messages, and contacts (thankfully backed up on my Mac).

It felt absurd that a mere phone could overshadow our river adventure. Growing up in Cambridge, my friends and I would enjoy punting without the distraction of mobile devices. If we needed to call someone, we found a phone booth. Life felt carefree back then, devoid of technology.

Yet, I do appreciate the conveniences technology brings.

I resolved to take my time replacing the lost phone, opting to see how I fared without it for a few days. Surprisingly, I found that I didn't miss it as much as I thought. While I enjoy snapping photos while exploring the city, that was the only aspect I longed for. Everything else could be managed on my computer.

Living without a phone isn't entirely practical for me, as I lack a landline. However, I’m not mourning those pesky spam calls. Communication with friends can easily happen through social media, and I'm not particularly chatty.

The only challenge I encountered was with two-factor authentication, which my phone had previously managed—now, I was locked out.

It felt somewhat like a phone-free vacation. Tranquil, yet undeniably strange.

Positive aspects included increased productivity due to fewer distractions and improved sleep quality, as I no longer felt the urge to look things up on my phone. For nighttime notes, I rediscovered the joy of using a notebook—far more satisfying than tapping on a screen. Instead of aimlessly scrolling through social media or the latest news, I picked up a book when sleepless.

Negative aspects included the inability to communicate while out, take photos, and access certain apps, especially my banking one.

When I do get around to replacing my phone, I plan to adopt a different approach to using it.

Of course, it’s easy to make that declaration now.

Chapter 2: Reflections on a Phone-Free Life

The first video, "5 Days Of No Cell Phone | Try Living with Lucie | Refinery29," explores the transformative experience of living without a phone. It highlights the challenges and insights gained during this period, much like my own experience.

The second video, "I Quit Using My Phone For 7 Days..," provides further reflections on the impact of a phone-free lifestyle, emphasizing how it can lead to greater mindfulness and productivity.

Despite the challenges, my brief phone hiatus opened my eyes to a different way of engaging with the world around me.