THE FIRST inkling that there was something out there, beyond my understanding, lurking in the depths of cyberspace, came early in the 21st century. An e-mail popped up on my screen from a friend in America inviting me to click on a link and visit his “blog”.

This turned out to be a personal site called a “web log”, or online diary. He is a journalist and used the site mostly to sound off on subjects that he hadn’t had room to tackle in a column, or that were inappropriate for his professional writing. I have continued to visit the site and discovered those of other hacks, including Andrew Sullivan, the prolific British-born writer and blogger who provides details of his personal life along with his US political analysis under the motto: “The revolution will be blogged.”

I was vaguely aware that blogging was popular among non-professional writers, but only very occasionally stumbled across one of these diaries while trawling the internet. And I was happy to avoid reading them — I took the view that I couldn’t read everything I wanted to each day as it was, and I certainly didn’t need to spend time cringing at other people’s mundane ramblings.

Then, the other day, I came across a claim that there are now three million bloggers in the US and about 25,000 in Britain. Blogging, while still in its infancy, is a growing phenomenon. Surely they couldn’t all be egomaniacs, exhibitionists or desperate loners. And if they weren’t, what — in the name of whatever god rules the cyberverse — did they think they were doing? I decided to enter the blogosphere and travel to the wilder shores of blogging.

Monday: I sign up with “Blogger”, one of the biggest American blogging sites, but after paying $10 for a superior package, I can’t seem to log in to the thing and, after a couple of frustrating hours, give up.

Tuesday: After a little research, I decide to sign up with 20six (named after the number of letters in the alphabet), a new European outfit that has been running for just six weeks in Britain but already claims “thousands” of members. The service, for now, is free. The company plans to start charging for premium packages that will allow greater customisation of sites and flashy tricks involving mobile phones.

Setting up is easy and in ten minutes I have my own site. Despite myself, I feel rather pleased to have become an entity on the web. But what to write? I’m not usually stuck for words and remind myself that the number of people who are likely to read this will be infinitesimally small compared with the readership of The Times. But this is a whole new world.

I introduce myself as a journalist, but don’t say specifically that I’m researching an article on blogging. I want to gauge reaction without people knowing that I’m writing about the experience. I post the entry, then e-mail a number of friends and colleagues with a link to the site.

I quickly receive e-mailed responses. My friend in America congratulates me for blogging on. Some are puzzled — “What is a weblog? Don’t understand. Boo hoo” — and others, particularly fellow hacks, are appalled. One asks: “Should I be worried about you?”

Within minutes there are also comments on the blog from other members of the 20Six “community”. The first, within seven minutes of me posting my message, is from one KSpragg, who invites me to visit his blog, which he has called “my so-called mundane life”.

Keith, who has a 2:1 in computing from Sheffield Hallam University, is looking for work. In the meantime he is one of the busiest 20six bloggers. His recent entries include news about job interviews, e-mails from his grandparents and chat about Harry Potter.

Keith explains that he and I are in a minority because we are blogging under our real names. Damn. I feel like I’ve missed a trick there. During the course of several e-mails he also explains why he sometimes spends hours a day online. He uses the blog partly to keep friends up to date with what he’s doing, but admits that “there is probably a bit of ‘wanting to be known’ by others — ie, ‘celebrity’ (kind of) in there”. He also uses it to expel “some of the loathing I get” by means of regular “rants”.

Later in the day, after a colleague comments on my site that “blogging is pathetic; who do you imagine is interested in this self-indulgent tripe?” Keith leaps to the defence of blogging and lays down the challenge: “Enlighten us with your objections.” No response is forthcoming.