The Man Who Drove 1,700 Miles to Make 52 Phone Calls and Save a Remote Red Phone Box
In an age when almost everyone carries a powerful computer in their pocket, the idea of driving more than 1,700 miles simply to make a few dozen telephone calls sounds almost unbelievable.
Yet that is exactly what artist and photographer William Arnold did.
Arnold travelled from Cornwall in southwestern England all the way to the remote Isle of Lewis in Scotland, undertaking a roughly 1,700-mile (2,735-kilometre) round trip for one surprisingly specific purpose: to make 52 calls from an old red public telephone box.
He was not trying to contact 52 people for business. He was not conducting a scientific experiment. And he certainly did not need a phone box to make the journey possible.
Instead, he was trying to keep a historic public telephone kiosk connected.
The kiosk, located at Einacleit, also spelled Enaclete, on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, is a particularly unusual example of Britain's famous red telephone boxes. It is a rare double-door version of the K6 design, an adaptation associated with the harsh and windy conditions of the Scottish islands.
Arnold had learned that the phone line could be at risk of being disconnected if it did not receive enough use. Under current Ofcom rules, one of the factors that can prevent a public payphone from being removed is whether it has made at least 52 calls during the previous 12 months, provided other conditions concerning the kiosk and its location are also met.
So Arnold decided to do something extraordinary.
He would personally give the phone the calls it needed.
He travelled north, arrived at the remote kiosk, brought roughly £36 worth of coins and spent close to two hours making 52 separate calls.
The financial cost of the calls was relatively small.
The journey was not.
And that contrast is what makes the story so striking.
A 1,700-Mile Journey for an Almost Forgotten Technology
For decades, the red telephone box was one of the most recognisable features of British public life.
Before mobile phones, smartphones and widespread home internet, a telephone kiosk could be an essential link to the outside world. People used them to call family members, contact businesses, arrange appointments and, when necessary, summon emergency services.
Today, however, the role of the public payphone has changed dramatically.
Mobile phones have transformed the way people communicate, while internet access has replaced many traditional forms of communication. As a result, thousands of public payphones have disappeared from Britain's streets.
The decline is understandable from a technological and economic perspective. Maintaining an extensive network of old public telephone equipment is expensive, especially when many kiosks receive very few calls.
But the situation becomes more complicated in remote communities.
A telephone box that appears almost unnecessary in a city can serve a very different purpose on an isolated island, in a rural village or in an area where mobile coverage is unreliable.
That distinction is central to Arnold's project.
His journey was part art project, part protest and part practical intervention.
The artist has described the idea as deliberately unusual and even slightly ridiculous, but he has also argued that there is a serious issue underneath the humour: what happens to forms of public infrastructure when they become old-fashioned but are still potentially useful?
His answer was to make the phone ring.
And ring it did.
Why Exactly 52 Calls?
The number 52 was not chosen at random.
Ofcom, the UK's communications regulator, has rules governing the removal of public call boxes. Under the current framework, BT and KCOM cannot remove a public call box when it is the last remaining box in an area — defined in the rules as more than 400 metres' walking distance from the next public call box — if certain criteria are met.
One of those criteria is usage.
A box that has made 52 or more calls over the preceding 12 months may qualify for protection from removal. Other relevant factors include the absence of coverage from all four mobile network providers, a high frequency of accidents or suicides in the area, or evidence that the box is reasonably needed for local emergencies or to call helplines.
That means the number 52 effectively represents an average of one call per week.
For most people with a smartphone, making one call a week is insignificant.
For an isolated public telephone box, however, that level of use can become an important indicator in determining whether the infrastructure remains.
Arnold realised that this created an unusual opportunity.
Rather than simply campaigning for the phone box to be preserved, he could demonstrate its usage himself.
He could turn an obscure regulatory requirement into a physical performance.
So he set himself the task of making all 52 calls.
The Beginning of the Idea
Arnold's interest in public telephone boxes did not begin with this particular journey.
According to the BBC, his interest in preserving rural phone lines dates back to 2022.
The story began on the Isle of Lewis itself.
While working there on a photographic project, Arnold wanted to call his partner, who was elsewhere at the time. His mobile phone battery was almost dead, and he came across what appeared to be a pristine old British Telecom telephone kiosk.