Ok friends, I suppose the lovely picture of the Margerie glacier above might give away the end of this story, but here it is anyway.
If you read my previous post, you know that last Saturday I managed to destroy my iPhone beyond all repair by putting it in the washing machine with our sheets and letting it smash around in there for about five minutes in the soapy water. No amount of drying, shaking, ricing, or taking aparting was able to save this phone. The screen was cracked in half, and water was dripping out of every port.
For some crazy, ridiculous reason, in the eight months I had the phone I never backed it up. I also never bothered to set up iCloud. I brought it to a computer repair shop on the off-chance they could revive it long enough to get a backup, but after two days of drying out and a new battery, it was still just a glass and aluminum brick.
So, with terrible defeat in my heart and bits of broken glass trailing behind me, I trudged into the Apple store late Tuesday night. I couldn’t get an appointment with such late notice so I waited on a stool at the genius bar, sitting in front of my smashed phone and feeling shame. After about ten minutes, a cheery but sympathetic tech person came to talk to me.
She asked if I had backed up the phone to iCloud, to which my response was, “I don’t really know what that is.” Probably not the ideal answer.
For $299 + tax they gave me a brand new phone, even though I had no insurance and the warranty obviously doesn’t have a section for washing machine damage. Plus one for Apple.
When I got home, I popped in my old sim card into the new phone and started it up. Almost immediately the phone asked me if I wanted to restore from an iCloud back up. Dates available were August 9, 10, and 11. Wait, what?!
Well, it turns out that you don’t have to know what iCloud is for it to back up your phone for you. I must have turned it on, or at least not turned if off, when I set up the original phone. It contained not only all the pictures I had taken but also every setting from the old phone.
Mr. Paradise was right, it’s only things. But somehow the memories in those photos from the last eight months meant more to me than I could have realized. The phone is now backed up in about five different ways.
In any case, I might have cried a little. Don’t tell anyone.