As I cycled across Provence last week, I was wrapped a smug blanket of self-sufficiency. My wobbly legs pedalled my heavily laden old bike up long winding hills, eagerly earning the intense exhilaration of racing down the other side; I picnicked on the edge of dramatic gorges and in the shade of olive orchards; I camped out wild, sleeping in woods, beside lakes, and on the edge of rolling lavender fields. 

My mind was un-interrupted by intrusive advertising and relentless marketing telling me I needed to buy more stuff, I was fully in the moment and I loved it. Over the four days, I spent a grand total of £34.50 – I felt like I was sticking two fingers up to our ad-driven consumerist society.

The irony of that didn’t escape me given my destination: the Cannes Lions festival of
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