There was only one way to find out. Less than a month later, I had sold almost everything I owned – my furniture, most of my clothes, my DVD collection, the guitar I’d never learned to play – everything, basically, that wouldn’t fit into a small suitcase on wheels. And I’d used the money to buy a plane ticket to New York to begin a ridiculous experiment. To see if it was possible to enjoy a ridiculously high standard of living on the road, at absolutely no extra cost, simply by embracing spontaneity and putting my faith in the power of technology. What I couldn’t possibly have predicted at the time is that it’s not only possible, but massively preferable. The adventures I had since February – more on them soon – are such that I literally do not understand why people who are able to work remotely, and who don’t have a spouse or children to worry about, don’t buy themselves a suitcase and hit the road.
Iceland hates Gordon Brown, but in a brilliantly childish way. One of the best-selling T-shirts in Reykjavik reads (in English) “Brown is the colour of poo“. By way of retaliation, I wee-d the words “Bjork: yer mum” in the snow outside the town hall.
