Going plastic-free: can you get by using only cash in 2020?

Marianna

Britain’s high streets are fast turning into cash deserts, as bank branches close their doors and switch off hole-inthe-wall machines. Rishi Sunak, the Chancellor, was due to announce a solution to the cash crisis in the Budget. However, as coronavirus took centre stage, access to cash was reduced to a vague pledge that the Government would introduce laws to “meet the changing needs of cash users”.

For the two million people who still rely on cash, will it be enough? I decided to find out what it’s like to rely on cash alone. Here’s what I found…

SUNDAY

Things are already off to a bad start. I ask my employer, Telegraph Media

Group, if it would pay my salary alary in cash and am given a firm no. o. Instead I head off to the bank and withdraw a wad of notes from a machine. ne. I don’t want to have to keep going to a cash point – they’re hard to come e by these days – so I take out £100 in one go.

MONDAY

I head to the Tube station for or my morning commute. The only ly way to pay in cash to ride on London’s ndon’s public transport system is by buying an Oyster card, so rather than an using my contactless card, I have to wait until the one ticket machine e out of five that accepts cash is available. ilable.

Buying the Oyster card costs osts me £5 even before I feed in five e crisp notes to top up the balance to £50. I sprint to the next train: all that waiting around has made me late for or work.

TUESDAY

Mid-morning I go in search h of a cool drink from the vending machine chine in the office. It only accepts cards, ards, so I have to buy a drink from the e lobby café instead, w where it’s pricier. At lunchtime, I po pop to Sainsbury’s. All the self-checkouts are card only, so once again I find my myself waiting in a long, slow queue to use my coins. One bonus: all this cash business is making m me more charitable. My stray pennies pennie are now going in the charity box rather than my purse.

WEDNESDAY WEDNESD

I remembe remember that my rent and bills are due. My landlady tells me she will accept m my rent in cash, but that would mean an hour’s journey each month to drop dr off the money. As for my bills bills, I could pay my energy provider, B Bulb, in physical money but I woul would have to travel to a drop-off p point two miles from my house and pay a handling fee.

THURSDAY THURSD

I plan to grab a coffee on my way to w work, but my usual spot only accepts plastic. Later, I try to buy a drink in the pub with a £20 note and the barmaid looks like I have just spat in her face. She also gives me the wrong change, but I decide not to risk mentioning it.

Urban millennial Hunt ditches her cards and discovers first-hand the cost of surviving on notes and coins

FRIDAY

I’m late to meet a friend for dinner but have run out of cash. It takes me 20 minutes to find a cash machine and when I get there it charges me £1 for the privilege of accessing my own money. A quarter of all cash machines now charge up to £1.99 a time.

SATURDAY

It turns out my total cash spend for the week is half my usual outgoings. Rather than flashing my card without a thought, relying on cash has made me more aware of what I’ve been buying.

Link, a cash machine network provider, has warned that Britain could become cashless within a decade unless action is taken. How much longer will the Government leave us waiting for a solution?

Marianna Hunt lived on cash for a week