Today you can never really leave. For one thing, most of the world looks alike now anyhow. For another, if anything big happens back home, friends will text you. And not just big things either. They'll tell you who's been fired on The Apprentice. They'll phone you from the toilet for help in their local pub quiz.
Just to make things worse, shortly before leaving I bought a swanky new "smart phone" aimed squarely at absolute cast-iron wankers. Go on, treat yourself, I thought. Be an unashamed cock and buy it. Turns out it does everything. Email, internet, GPS system, Google maps ... there's probably a can opener on it somewhere. If you're standing in the middle of nowhere you can push one button to be told precisely where you are and another to find out where the nearest synagogue is. Or sauna. Or both. Punch in a query and it'll recommend eight local restaurants, give you their phone numbers, and ask if you want to ring them. Then it'll give you directions. Since I'm on a road trip, it's proved incredibly useful...
The usually reliable Charlie Brooker moves close to the new century...
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