Zoe Cummins

We head for the signal tower on Brough Head, two miles outside the village.

We pass a field of sheep surrounded by an electric fence.

I dare you to hold on to the wire, but you won't.

Don't be chicken, I say, but you won't.

I do, and the jump startles me, even though I expect it.

The tower is pretty well preserved, but the ruins of the telegraphic station are strewn around the head, the base of the aerial just about visible.

Nothing to suggest its crucial role in radio communication.

I hold my microphone up to capture some atmosphere, but it's too windy for a good recording.

I pull you in beside me, our backs to the wind to shield the microphone, our heads locked against each other's for warmth.

You're patient for a few minutes, but then you speak into the mic so close your stubble rubs off the windshield.

Back at the B&B, I went to look up Nottage and see what kept him here after the telegraph station closed.

Also, I spotted a house for sale nearby.

I ask you to imagine what it would be like if we just up sticks and moved here.

Just imagine a freer life.

I drop the subject.

Notes for voiceover.

Marconi went from Crookhaven when his work was done.

He was not a man for sticking around the place.

The station itself closed during the Civil War.

Communication definitely in the condition of being terminated.