An introduction to urban life off grid.

Answering many of your questions.

I left the clothes washing at the launderette this morning and was walking to meet Marc in town. I heard a voice behind me. She was beaming as she said, "I saw on Facebook that you beat Octopus Energy. You won!", she said joyously punching the air twice with her fist! Wow. That lifted my spirits. Then it happened again in a shop. Another person rejoicing at our win. The town residents and community that know us, have been rooting for us. They're all sick of the rigid, robotic and corrupt system that is bringing us all down. Anyone that shows that any part the system can be beaten by the ordinary people brings them joy and hope. A shared victory.

I said to Marc, as I slipped my coffee at the pub, "You lived off grid every year on holiday from as far back as you can remember. Was it a burden or a joy?". He replied, without hesitation, "Those were the best times of my life". Every year, the family packed up the car and drove from Bulawayo, Rhodesia to the wider family owned little cottage by the sea on the Wild Coast in the Transkei, South Africa. No electricity. No mains water, or sewerage. Indeed a long drop toilet in a tiny shed away from the cottage. They ate like kings on their freshly caught fish and crayfish (like lobster). By night they would chat or play games in the soft, yellow lighting of paraffin lamps. A tin bath was the washroom with rainwater boiled on the old wood stove. They slept soundly, a myriad of stars watching over them and only the sound of the waves and crickets disturbing the peace of the night.

That was in the 60s and 70s.

By 2020, Marc and I were living a life bound by long working hours in order to pay for a mortgage, electricity, gas, water and sewerage. Pay for landline, broadband, Wifi, TV license, Council Tax, insurances, weekly bus ticket, smart phones, groceries and the car needing petrol, MOT, insurance and road tax. For sure we had central heating, a washing machine and tumble drier, fridge and freezer, gas hob and oven. And a vacuum cleaner. But where was the joy? I spent 15 hours a week travelling to and from work on the bus, only to slump on the sofa after 5 pm. and watch TV until going to bed, then to start it all again the next morning at 4:30 am.

What were we thinking?!!! What had we achieved?

My parents were Salvation Army Missionaries. 9 years after the second world war they were appointed to a rudimentary mission station in a remote Tribal Trust land of Rhodesia. With two children under 4, my mother endured bathing with tadpoles alone in the remote bush, whilst Dad inspected the Salvation Army primary schools in the Semokwe Reserve, away sometimes a week at a time. She recounts that time with happiness. The people of the villages around. The challenges, failures and successes.

By the end of April 2020, Marc and I realized that something was badly wrong with the world. It looked way too much like Revelations in the Bible to me. It became apparent that a global coup d'etat had taken place under the guise of a pandemic. Where it was all going was "the mark of the beast" where no one could buy or sell without it. Complete surveillance and digital control. We wanted out. We wanted to outsmart the smart grid for as long as possible.

It took a few months more than two years. An early retirement with a package. Paying off the mortgage and then the preparation. Only after my mother was safe, could we proceed. We went off grid on 1/12/2022. In the next article, I shall explain how. The pros and cons. The pain, hard work, the joy and the freedom. The ugly head of digitalism and a system that tried to get us back into it by fraud, because the system is always right. The people are always wrong.

The next part will be written in collaboration with my husband, Marc. The chainsaw wielder, woodchopper, water fetcher, chimney cleaner, maintenance man and fire maker, aside from cook and vegetable garden grower.

A man's and a woman's view of life, almost independent of the system. Aged 68 (Marc) and 66 (Karin).

To be continued.