I had a computer called Lucy - a lot of us did back then. From the abyss of black, fluorescent green commands scuttled across the monitor as she booted up.

I could control the world with one word. "Run."

A myriad of commands would play out my desires. World domination unfolded in my imagination while the floppy disk spluttered and coughed like my father's Cortina on a frosty Irish morning.

I soon got the hang of global connectivity, although a brief spell in Wellsford with nothing more than dial-up and letter writing was a nightmare. I learned to live without technology, reluctantly.


Years later, I'm unable to sit still on the sofa with my husband.

I watch television with the globe on Twitter - through my iPad. I stay in touch with emails on my smart work phone. I text friends from my cell.

Hubby says something.

"Huh?" I reply.

I return to the world.

There are times when I leave the world alone - in the kitchen or the cupboard. I plug out and walk on the beach. There the world is free from my opinions, observations, 140 character musings.

The world survives. Without those disconnected moments, I doubt I would.

Matapouri is set to come online shortly as Telecom announces its $175,000 investment into cellphone infrastructure.

We almost lived there once but chose not to as the mobile coverage was non-existent.

There are people who will not like cyber reality descending on the sandy beaches of the Tutukaka coast. There are more, however, that welcome the security in knowing they can work and play like the rest of modern civilisation, connected to a wonderful resource.

But technology is like anything in life - take it or leave it. We might live in a connected world, but we still have the old-fashioned gifts of freewill and choice. Oh! I have to go. My phone is ringing!