Whenever I read an article about how my phone is destroying my posture/attention span/ability to get anywhere without my Maps app, I like to imagine what life would look like if I threw my tech into the Thames and relocated to a wifi-less cabin in the countryside. It’s a daydream that, until recently, I thought would be a last resort – something I’d reach for when my screen time hit code red. Then I started seeing posts for Unplugged and its self-named digital detox cabins pop up as I scrolled through Instagram (the irony of this is not lost on me).

I saw influencers declare themselves cured of their bad phone habits after spending a weekend in these cut-off cabins and I was intrigued. In fact, I was so intrigued that I decided to follow suit and quite literally lock my phone away in search of an off-grid weekend. 

Unplugged – a company set up by two friends who, as tech start-up founders, were regularly seeing their screen time hit 14 hours a day – has a simple premise: digital detox cabins one or two hours outside of major cities (London and Manchester at the moment, plus two cabins in rural Wales) that guests stay in for three nights, each with a lockbox for your phone and a ‘digital detox kit’. This kit, the company explains, is everything you need to enjoy an off-grid weekend: a map, compass, torch, instant camera and old-school Nokia brick phone for emergency communication. 

Cut to 9pm last Friday night, in the middle of a pitch black, tree-lined farm with nothing but the light of my boyfriend’s phone torch to guide us to our cabin, and I was genuinely questioning every choice I’d made that had led me to this point. I should have known something was up when, as we explained our plan to the taxi driver who took us from Hemel Hempstead train station (32 mins from Euston) into the countryside, he gave us a worried look and asked: “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Lesson one: do not arrive somewhere with no streetlights (the countryside) late in the evening in winter. It will be dark, and you will start imagining yourself in a horror film. 

Once safely through the woods and in our cabin, things took a turn for the cosier. It was much bigger than I expected, with lots of little luxuries dotted around: herbal-smelling toiletries in the bathroom, coffee beans to be ground in the morning, sage green linen sheets on the bed – and the lights and hot water both solar powered. It was the perfect place to crash out after a full-on work week – in fact, I fell asleep almost immediately after arriving (and locking my phone away).

It was only in the morning that I really came to terms with what I’d signed up for. As my hand reached for my phone to ‘check the time’ (read: spend far too long scrolling through TikTok) it grasped thin air. Ah yes, I thought. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Instead, I found a radio next to the bed, something I have never owned and, it turns out, had very little idea how to use. Once eventually up and running, it was exactly what my phone-less, background noise-loving brain needed. Lesson two: I think it’s time to enter my radio era. 

After a morning spent making porridge, listening to Radio 2’s questionable devotion to Take That and watching it rain. When the weather finally cleared, we decided to go for a walk. Unplugged gives you a map that’s been custom-made for your cabin – where you’re staying is marked, as are a few local amenities and destinations. A farm shop a 50-minute walk away? Sounds perfect: off we went in search of overpriced chutney. 

What I didn’t anticipate was how unfamiliar I’d become with navigating using a paper map since my orienteering club days in year six. Trying to follow a roughly marked path across the Hertfordshire countryside is harder than it sounds – but, after a few ill-advised shortcuts and backtracks across sheep-filled fields, we were close. To find the exact location, I even asked a stranger for directions: something I’d never do in London for fear of being ignored or, worse, having to have a conversation with someone I don’t know on the street. But it worked! After a dogwalker pointed us in the right direction, we made it to the aforementioned farm shop and secured some spiced chocolate that felt pleasingly festive (but no chutney). Lesson three: paper maps really do work.

Next, we made our way to a local pub for dinner, navigating a similarly lengthy walk – this time with the help of no strangers – and making it through the doors just before dark. The only reminder of my digital detox was when my boyfriend got up to go to the bathroom and my hand, without thinking, darted into my bag expecting to find my phone for company. Shock: no phone was found. So, instead of scrolling, I just… sat and looked around. I’d love to tell you it was a lifechanging moment where I noticed little details in the room I would never have picked up on before, but to be completely honest, I sat there for a few minutes feeling a bit bored. I can’t help thinking that might still have done me good, though.

Crunching up the woodchip path to our cabin after an admittedly dark walk back, I was inexplicably exhausted. The day had seemed, on the surface, broadly stress free compared to, say, a workday. But, nonetheless, I quickly fell into one of the deepest sleeps of my life.  

The following morning, while I tuned into the now-familiar lilt of Radio 2, I finally figured out why I’d felt so de-stressed and yet so worn out the day before. All of the mindless moments I’d typically rely on my phone for were gone: scrolling to pass the time, finding a walking route, even playing music (Spotify’s daylists definitely reduce the need to use your brain). Also gone were the stressful moments my phone sometimes provides: the unexpected news alerts that fill me with dread, the temptation to check my work emails, the feeling of urgency I get when I hear the ping of a WhatsApp notification.

What replaced these, though, was something much more valuable: a new, present-in-the-moment feeling that I probably, truly, haven’t felt since becoming engrossed in something papier mâché-related when I was a kid. After all, when you’re trying to avoid straying into a field bearing a sign that reads Danger! Bull in field using a rudimentary paper map, you can’t really have one eye on Instagram in the background, can you? 

Lesson four? Phoneless weekends are here to stay. 

Book three nights in an Unplugged digital detox cabin from £360 at unplugged.rest

Image: Rebecca Hope