As one amateur canoeist discovered this month, it is difficult to disappear into thin air - especially in the era of the internet, camera-phones and 24-hour news coverage.
With that in mind, how more foolish is it when somebody famous seeks anonymity? It really depends on who is doing the disappearing and, just as importantly, the motives.
When Agatha Christie and Howard Hughes checked out of Planet Earth (not at the same time), they did so with varying degrees of success. Christie eventually turned up safely and subsequently sold even more books. Hughes became so elusive that, having taken eccentricity to new levels, even he did not know where he was.
Jose Mourinho's attempts to disappear, ostensibly to dampen talk about his connection with the position as head coach to the England national team, have only added to his fame and added to the intrigue.
The less he says, the more everybody else will say on his behalf. And so, with the skill of a Machiavellian politician, he can campaign for a job by staying out of the limelight.
Every day, there is a new 'Mourinho for England' story. If the rumours are true, he is supposed to have been in three countries at the same time, talking to officials from the Football Association (in the United Kingdom), officials from Real Madrid (in Spain), or merely Christmas shopping with his wife (in Portugal).
He does not have to do much, other than keep quiet. The rest of us do the dirty work for him, thus making him more expensive to hire and more likely to take up a lucrative position with one of the leading European clubs.
Without actually making an appearance, Mourinho is the leading character in this story. He is like Rebecca de Winter, who, in the Daphne du Maurier novel Rebecca [1938], never appears in person but exists in spirit around every corner, in every room and in the mind of every other character.
For managers who live and work in England, the luxury of disappearing is not an option. Martin O'Neill, the Aston Villa manager, has ruled himself out of the England job so often that he is inadvertently falling into a trap of giving credence to questions about the subject.
One is reminded of the Shakespeare quote: "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
Nobody is questioning O'Neill's integrity. He genuinely is not interested in leaving Villa and has little desire to take up a position with the FA. But, short of taking advertising space in every national newspaper ("Listen folks, I don't want the bloody England job, OK?"), he can do nothing other than grow frustrated at being asked The England Question.
Harry Redknapp, the Portsmouth manager, does not have the personality that would make him comfortable in a state of anonymity. He likes attention and, two weeks ago, liked to be linked with the England job. So when the police came knocking recently as part of an inquiry into corruption in football, Redknapp realised that his celebrity had caught up with him.
He claimed that the dawn raid - police raids are always "dawn raids", even when they occur at night-time - was nothing more than an attempt to "raise the profile" of the investigation. Whatever the truth about that, the incident ended, once and for all, any hope that Redknapp had of being the England head coach.
For once, he probably wished he could disappear, but he had already allowed attention to enter his home like daylight and he could not turn it off. Even in the midst of doing his job (standing on the touchline while Portsmouth were playing away to Villa two days ago), he endured abuse from at least one disillusioned Villa supporter.
Little wonder that Redknapp looked preoccupied during his post-match press conference.
Portsmouth might have defeated Villa 3-1 but all he had to speak about was what happened at the match. Nobody asked him about the England job. The police had seen to that.
If Redknapp has a problem, it is that he is no politician. He might have all the coaching and motivational skills that would make him a good England head coach but, rightly or wrongly, he cannot quite shake off perceptions that he does not conduct his affairs in a manner appropriate for such a position.
Terry Venables, the England head coach from 1994-96, had much the same problem and left the job prematurely after Euro 96.
O'Neill does not have such issues. He is whiter than white and, having failed to land the England job in the spring of 2006 when his interview technique was less than successful, he has since enhanced his reputation. In spite of his desire to distance himself from the job, one should not be surprised if, eventually, the FA makes him an offer that he cannot refuse.
Whether the offer comes before or after the offer to Mourinho, only time will tell. The first problem, of course, is finding Mourinho.
