*Rushes to give you a hug.* You poor thing! I hope you remembered to take a lot of books.

Actually, there's a funny story about that too. I took four books with me and finished them all within the first two weeks of course. Eventually I discovered that the closest 'town' (village?) had a sort of book shop so on one of my very few days off, I decided to walk to 'town' to get more books. (See, this is what happens to us city-dwellers who never learn to drive...).

It was a three hour walk each way. I bought almost ten more books though and read them all, sometimes more than once, over the rest of my weeks of isolation. Oh, and the book shop was the ONLY shop in town. They sold bread and milk as well. That's it. Just bread and milk and books. What a lesson that was. If I ever decide to return (which I may at some point), I'll definitely have a better understanding of packing priorities!

Good grief, that's a hell of a culture shock to me and I didn't even go through it. Just Milk, Bread and Books? Was this seriously a town, with any number of residents? Though I imagine that driving is an utter necessity in such areas, I would have thought that you could have expected to be able to pick up tinned goods and magazines from a short walk, at least. I bet you wish you had a bicycle, eh? z: )

A three hour walk, good grief. I'm guessing that equates to about ten-twelve miles? A brave mission, dear Wolf. Though perhaps I'm a little 'gunshy' after my last long walk, of about two hours, which was what finally set off my appendix for the final and crucial time. z: j

Oh well, you're even braver still for thinking of going through this again, though I suppose I can relate from my teenage experiences of the Northumbrian Army Cadets. There is something definitively good about being cut off from it all for a while... but that was only for two weeks and I was still foaming to get back onto ICQ. z: ) Did you feel likewise, or does this whole internet business feel a little petty and superficial now?

I have to admit that I did actually go through a fair amount of culture shock coming BACK to society. I didn't miss it all that much in the beginning. I kept busy enough and enjoy the peacefulness that was available in that location. I did miss the option to get up and go do something when I pleased. That would have been easily solved by a car, or a friend with a car.

The town couldn't honestly have had more than a hundred residents, and sprawled out through the heavily wooded area. I doubt if there were more than fifty residences along that stretch of the highway. Very desolate.

Internet was available sporadically, but having to share the one working computer with all the other 100+ staff members meant I had no time or privacy for truly keeping in touch, so eventually I gave up on that too. I did manage to get occassional cellphone service (one bar, woohoo) for texting to make sure people knew I was still alive. Definitely a different kind of living.

I doubt that I will return to that particular job, though I enjoyed the season. I wouldn't mind living out there after I learn how to drive. Sometimes now I find that I miss the sounds at night and the air, and the smell of the trees. It's hard to explain, but I do miss that. Very much

Hmmm, I suppose I can understand you preferring that, you've always said you were more of a nature dweller. Alas, I am myself a City-Fox by nature. I do know what you mean about the smells and sounds of the forest though. In so much as we still have them in this once forest-carpeted isle. Ironically, most of the forests I am used to are of non-native fast-growing pine trees planted for lumber purposes. Yet nature makes no waste and moves in quickly.

The internet availability does sound like a bit of a tease. It's there, but you can't have it on acceptable terms. A shame.

Ah well, I'm guessing that at the very least, this was an experience to inspire?

That is was. Gave me an excellent idea of what it is that is truly most important to me, and how much I'm willing to sacrifice to have it. Something one doesn't normally consider so honestly when surrounded by comforts and leisure.