Now, blogging. The thing is, while I was enjoying the view up Bavarian mountains I was out of internet range and due to general travelling incompetence had no 3G signal on my mobile either. And - do you know what - I didn't miss it. I know. Whisper it in hushed tones. I - who consider myself addicted to it, who gave up reading newspapers to devote more time to it - didn't miss it at all. Neither did I miss Twitter or Faceache or Foursquare or Instagram or any of the other online wastes of time I happily allow to consume hours of my existence. I thought I would. I really expected my right thumb to atrophy and be incapable of texting when I got back home. But - apart from half a hundredweight of emails awaiting me when I was back in wifi range - I felt no ill-effects, suffered no cold-turkey, showed no signs of missing the online world at all.
Which is itself a worry.
I mean, to an increasing number of people I'm defined by blogging (or Tweeting). It's what I do. So to find myself immune to its charms came as something of a surprise. But maybe I needn't worry. Because apparently, it's listening to the radio that really makes you happy. According to an (oddly, on-line) survey conducted recently, 'Listening to the radio makes people happier and gives them higher energy levels than watching TV or browsing the internet'.
So now we know. We should both be listening to the radio. Which is precisely what I'm about to do. As long as it isn't the insufferable Chris Evans, of course.