Put Your Phone in a Box

The author painfully locking his phone away ad the start of the trip.

I recently did something that not many people would be willing to do.

I gave up my phone (and all electronics) for a week.

Not “checked it less.” Not “turned off notifications.” Actually gave it up. Locked in a box with no access.

This was on a UTV trip I’ve now done twice, once through the Grand Canyon and once through Baja, with a company called Wilderness Collective. Think ATVs meets dune buggies, long days on trails, dust, breakdowns, great food, and a group of people who all agreed, voluntarily, to disconnect.

At first, it’s uncomfortable. Your hand keeps reaching for your phone like phantom limb. Photo? Phone. Random fact check? Phone. Three seconds of boredom? Phone.

Except… it’s not there.

And then something happens.

You stop reaching for it.

I wrote previously about traveling in the pre-internet, pre mobile phone days, when getting lost wasn’t a failure, it was the point. When you had no idea what was around the corner, and sometimes that led to a great meal, sometimes something terrible, but it was always yours.

That kind of travel has slowly disappeared.

Today, we don’t explore, we optimize. Google or ChatGPT tells us where to go. Instagram tells us what’s worth seeing. TikTok tells us what’s trending this week. And we follow along, efficiently moving from one “must-see” to the next. Taking the same photos everyone else does along the way.

What struck me on these trips wasn’t just the lack of phones, it was what replaced them.

Conversations lasted longer. People paid attention. You’d sit at dinner and instead of everyone drifting off into their own digital worlds, you actually stayed in the moment.

During the day, you noticed things. The terrain, the people, the randomness of it all. And when no-one was around you had time to think and reflect.  This has become known as mindfulness and before phones, it was just the default setting.

You weren’t documenting the experience. You were just having it.

The tour companyh has a film crew, so you still get great photos and videos. But because you’re not the one taking them, something shifts. You’re not thinking about the shot. You’re not framing the moment. You’re just in it.

While this is not realistic for most situations, it makes one thing obvious. Capturing the moment changes the moment and you realize how much mental space documenting things actually takes.

Not a phone is site! Just good conversation.

Which got me thinking…

If giving up your phone makes travel better, why isn’t anyone in hospitality leaning into this?

Hotels, tour companies, resorts, restaurants, everyone is investing heavily in technology. Apps, mobile check-in, digital concierges, AI assistants. All designed to make the experience smoother, faster, more personalized.

But what if the real opportunity is freeing people from their personal tech prisons?

Not everywhere, not for every guest. But selectively.

What if a hotel, restaurant, tour company offered:

• a “digital detox” package

• curated, phone-free experiences

• photography handled for you so you don’t feel the need to capture everything

• spaces where being present is actually the point

Right now, the industry is optimizing for convenience. But some of the most meaningful experiences come from friction, from uncertainty, from not knowing exactly what’s next.

That’s hard to productize. It’s even harder to sell. But it’s also increasingly rare.

I’m not naïve enough to think we’re all going to start handing over our phones at check-in. Most people wouldn’t go for it. Honestly, two years ago, I probably wouldn’t have either.

But having done it twice now, I can say pretty confidently:

It changes the experience.

Not in some abstract, philosophical way. In a very real, very noticeable way.

You remember more. You engage more. You come back with stories, not just photos.

And maybe that’s the point.

Because somewhere along the way, travel became something we document instead of something we experience.

I’m as guilty of that as anyone.

But for a week on a UTV, with no phone in my pocket, I got a glimpse of what it used to feel like.

And it was better.