A lot of people assume that because I write for Wired I have some deep abiding love of technology. I don't. In fact, the more I experiment, test and use technology, the less it impresses me and the less I want to do with it. One thing I have realised about technology though is that it creates its own desire. The more you use technology the more you realise it can do things and through some twisted logic, that seems to make you feel obligated to do them -- perhaps because you fear you're missing out on something if you don't, perhaps because you think what you're doing is somehow worthwhile, perhaps just because you can. Whatever the case there's an underlying theme to technology: it engenders the belief that you need it. The other main selling point of technology is that it connects you. There's nothing wrong with thinking that, but it does threaten something very fundamental -- the ability to be alone. Travel affords us a chance to see things many will only encounter in books, a chance to learn about ourselves and the world around us, but there’s another thing I’ve started to think is equally important — travel gives us a chance to be alone. But technology keeps us connected. I’m not a Luddite, far from it. I love Twitter, I love Facebook and some of my best friends are people I met traveling and have kept in touch with via various websites. I like those connections, tenuous and frail though they may be. But I also like to believe in the notion that I can escape them as well. Physically escape them. People love to talk about the ways technology helps us "stay connected" or bridge some percieved communication gap. That might be wonderful for some; me I enjoy being disconnected, I enjoy deliberately severing connections with my friends and family and dropping off the edge of the earth for a few months. You know what happens when I do that? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Everyone is still there when I get back. While I like the idea of a totally connected world and recognize its inevitability, I think there is also value in having a few dark spots on the map. Even if I’m not there, I think the psychological impact of knowing such places exist is valuable. But forget the obvious, here's what staying in touch really does: it validates our own inflated sense of importance. There is something terrifying about dropping off the edge of the earth and realizing that by and large the world does not need you. By posting to Facebook, Twittering or blogging we in some way validate our existance to ourselves. It's reassuring to know that other people like to hear from us, never mind whether or not they *need* to hear from us. The uncomfortable truth is that most of us can be wiped off the face of the earth without more than a dozen people really missing us. That's not meant to be callous. I'm not saying no one will miss you when you're gone. Just that very few will. Deal with it. The same goes with the much touted "making connections" Yes, I travel with a laptop, I use it to store photos, occasionally to write things. I sometimes go weeks without opening it. I deliberately hacked together a laptop setup that's an utter pain to connect to wifi, consequently I never use it online, no e-mail, no blog reading, nothing, it's a lightweight typewriter. I really don't understand the travelers that hunt out wifi, i don't even really understand people that blog about their travels. I do it because I can't help writing, I have no idea why normal people do it. Rolf Pott's recently suggested that using Twitter while you're traveling is not a good idea. People who use Twitter naturally reacted about the same way I do when people say that I shouldn't smoke -- defensively, angerly. I write for Wired.com. I use Twitter every day, both for work and for fun. It's likee an RSS feed that updates much more quickly than RSS feeds. In theory I should disagree with Rolf, but I don't. In fact I think he's absolutely right (just like the people who say I should quit smoking). The Twitter fans argue that Twitter offers a way stay in touch with friends and loved ones, that it can provide valuable insight from locals. Bullshit. Twitter, Facebook and the rest are an entertaining distraction, a mildly amusing waste of time. If you seriously think they're anything more than that you need to unplug, take a break, spend some time in the sunshine. As for recommendations, try walking the streets and asking strangers Here's a litmus test for you, Between my own account and the vagablogging twitter account I keep tabs on some 200 people writing about travel related stuff on Twitter. It's the single biggest echo chamber I have access to (there are some notable exceptions: worldhum, gadling, And Potts and I aren't alone, Arthur Frommer called social networking sites "absurd... they're a waste of the time for a lot of people who should be reading." Zing.