On the 6th of December one of the main mobile data providers in the UK, O2, suffered a software failure that left over 30 million of their users without mobile data for a whole day.

Read one survivors harrowing account below...

It was still dark when I left for work. My train was on time and I hopped on eagerly, glad to be out of the rain.

Aah, this was my favourite time of the morning. The early commute to work. Time to get a seat and get my phone out for some quality Steeming.

The train carriage was oddly quiet.

All the better.

I grabbed a seat and whipped my phone out like it was a sugarlump for an angry horse.

My internet browser was already open on Steemit. I dragged it down to refresh my feed.

No data connection.

Stated a plain message on my screen.

I chuckled. Stupid phone, of course there was an internet connection. This wasn't the nineties after all.

I checked that airplane mode was off. Yep. Checked my mobile data was on. Yep.

My stomach clenched and gave a little jump as if it were trying to get out of my body and chase a mouse.

No internet? That's odd.

I tried to swallow but my throat was dry.

I rebooted my phone. I'd worked in IT long enough to know all the tricks.

It came back on.

No data connection.

Sweet Jebus!! My phone was fucked!? I had no internet. How in the hell was I supposed to get through the next twenty minutes!?

I looked around the carriage. It was only then I noticed the depressed pale faces of my fellow passengers. No-one was on their phones? No-one. It was like I had traveled back in time.

Fuck! What was that!?!

Nearby me someone had pulled a book out of their bag!? A fucking book? In this day and age?

Hot flaming shit, this was obviously the end of days. I looked around again, panic stricken that I might see a skeleton charging through the carriage on a white steed, mowing people down with his cold iron scythe.

Fuck, there's no fucking internet?

Muttered the guy next to me as he glared at his phone. He turned to me, his mouth slowly opening.

No! Don't do it!? He wasn't going to do it was he? Surely he wasn't going to break the unwritten covenant of public transport travel and talk to me?

He did.

You got the internet on your phone mate?

What the fuck? Did I look Italian? Oh no wait, he said internet not spaghetti.

I spoke back. Part of me fearful he would murder me if I didn't join him in his internet lacking.

No, no signal at all.

I croaked in terror.

Whit, fuck sake. The network must be down.

He said with only mild annoyance.

He was right, none of us had the internet. Nearby someone started reading a big newspaper as if the world wasn't going to shit.

The train barreled on through the suburbs. I gripped the armrests of my chair and looked out frantically.

What should I do!? What could I do?

Should I be setting fire to some toilet paper and throwing it the window? I felt about in my pockets, damn, I had none.

I let out a tiny whimper as if a guinea pig were flirting with my beard.

Here mate, I'm getting off at the next stop.

Some burly red faced geezer pressed a newspaper into my hands with a wink.

Fucking internet eh!

I have him a watery smile as I looked at the newspaper in bafflement. What was I meant to do with this? Make a hat?

I tried to find my happy place and look out the window instead of fannying about with the big inky pile of cheap paper.

As I looked out a thought struck me. Was this the usual route? It didn't look like it.

Then realisation dawned on me. As it did, I felt a certain peace steal over my body. It all made sense now. This was obviously a train to hell.

I closed my eyes in acceptance and let the train take me. Onward.