Ever since I slipped onto the Viking Trail in Newfoundland’s Northern Peninsula two days ago it’s been hit and miss to hitchhike digitally onto the local networks to the information highway.
And I have also discovered I will also go to great lengths to get cell phone signal bars, which are at times so elusive it’s like a sneeze that just won’t come.
I have at times had one arm stretched high and stood stork stark still, just hoping that the invisible forces will channel voices though my body to my smart phone speaker.
Last night, just before the sun started to set on the eve of my Viking encampment sleepover, I was desperate to get word out about my upcoming stories.
So I set out on foot with my cell and headed for high wifi ground, which was the Parks Canada Interpretation Centre office.
With a view to definitely Tweet for if I could, I stood on the top of the long stretch of stairs, leaning this way and that, trying to get some reaction from the outside digital world.
I even pressed it tightly against the glass doors an Oliver Twist “Please, sir, may I have some more bars?” plea.
No luck, but with no distractions it was easy to settle in for a good night’s sleep in the little recreation Viking sod house.
Little did I know those sleep disturbing distractions would not come from without, but from within . . . .