Being away from my usual news sources here in Mallorca takes a bit of getting used to. I’m a news junkie back in England, forever bringing myself up to date with what’s happening in the world by means of the TV, radio, or a click of the mouse. Barely an hour goes by without me checking that I’m not behind events. It’s hard to imagine the 24/7 news cycle not existing.
Therefore, going on holiday to a place like Santa Ponsa requires a bit of an adjustment. No BBC. No CNN. No Sky, even, unless I traipse down the hill to one of many ex-pat Irish bars. No newspapers at the hotel. Internet chargeable by the quarter-hour. It’s like I’ve been living in a bubble for the past three days. So I’ve decided to embrace it. I’m going on the Internet for 15 minutes every day to post this blog, but that’s it. I don’t know the footie scores. I probably won’t be able to watch the Grand Prix tomorrow. Has a General Election been called? No idea.
It’s a regression, and I often find myself willing the usual sources of information to come to me. But at the same time, being away from the hurly burly of modern life and not feeling ruled by the media is, in many ways, a refreshing change of pace. Sure, I wouldn’t want to be out of the loop for too long. Too much of my daily discourse is based upon it. But there’s something rather liberating about it all. Here, the world beats to the sound of a different drum. If Sangria can be called a drum. Which it can’t. Although the beat in your head after drinking too much of it probably can be.