Unplug

When was the last time you dreamt about a book?

Last Saturday I woke, bleary-eyed¹, staring at the ceiling confused—for a moment—by my surroundings. Where was I? The room was dark and quiet, smelling sweetly of pine. Birds chirruped gently in the distance, and a dog was snoring beside me (said dog isn’t allowed to sleep on the bed at home).

I had just emerged from a dream about the book I was reading, Golden Hill by Francis Spufford. A strange, nostalgic feeling accompanied this realisation — it’s been a long time since dreamt about the contents of a book.

My wife and I were in the middle of a 3-day digital detox retreat. This is a fancy (and quite expensive) way of turning off your phone. But it’s the second one we’ve done in the last couple of years, and I think I enjoyed this one even more than last time!

The one photo I took before putting my phone away

The trip was instigated by my wife, whose busy city job has been even busier and cityish than usual, and was feeling the need to come up for air. We booked a cabin in the woods, just an hour’s drive from London, through Unplugged.

The idea is to take a mini-break with no screens. You lock your phone away, and try to remember (if you ever knew) what life was like before the internet. We went on a couple of decent walks (about 10k each at a gentle amble) and visited a local brewery, yum.² We took photos (a polaroid camera is provided), drank Moth cocktails (a revelation) and asked each other deep and meaningful questions over the open fire.

Oh, and we read. A lot.

Dogs, an open fire, reading, and breakfast. Polaroids definitely don’t flatter the dog.

I read much of Golden Hill during our brief stay. I wasn’t rushing. The book is a bit like eating nouvelle cuisine; you want to savour every moment. I found that by unplugging, I was able to plug in to the book far more deeply, and enjoy it significantly more than I have in some time.

Often when I’m reading at home, I feel nudged by the promise of an email or WhatsApp message.³ Instead, my mind was filled with sunshine, a great book, stimulating conversation, and a little wine.⁴ I slept as soundly as I have in years (not having Vauxhall Bridge Road ten meters away from my head) and dreamt of eighteenth-century Manhattan.

It’s a strange thing to vividly dream about something you’ve read. In London, my mind is so visually stimulated every day that I generally dream about stuff I’ve seen. But when all that’s around you is woodland, dreams draw on another set of visual imagery — your imagination.

When was the last time you dreamt about a book you’ve been reading?

1. In fairness, at 42ish bleary is probably the default state of my eyes

2. We had assumed The Mad Squirrel was a pub, so the brewery was a surprise! The beer was excellent, and the food too, although I have a feeling the kitchen only has a pizza oven; the menu consisted of Garlic Pizza (starters) followed by 12” Pizza (mains) followed by Sweet Pizza (dessert) to finish up. Even for me, thassa lorra pizza.

3. Side note: I have a theory that every time I reach to check WhatsApp (or my emails, or social media) I’m doing it because a tiny, rather insulting voice in my head is whispering, “Let’s see if anyone loves you enough to remember that you exist…”

4. A long-lost variety of Bordeaux that was recently discovered in Chile - hand delivered (shop to mouth) by a lovely friend of ours.