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Thursday, March 26, 2020, Day 11, Week 2, of Self Isolation.

Global Cases 537,017
Global Deaths 24,117
UK Cases 11,811
UK Deaths 578

Woke at 4am again but managed to go straight back to sleep until 7.30am Great! It makes such a difference to how the day pans out if I get a decent nights sleep.

We had another yoga session. I enjoyed it a bit more this time because I was more psychologically prepared.

Spent the morning writing. I worked on this journal and my biography project again.

I did a bit of reading. I’m reading a Dean Koontz at the moment, called Breathless. I haven’t read a book by him for many, many years. I used to love his work when I was young. I’m not sure now. He’s clearly very successful but the writing style is very “best-seller” and not my cup of tea to be honest. The plot is interesting however, and I’m going to persevere.

My friend messaged me in the morning to say that, just as she thought she was over the virus, it seems to have come back with a vengeance. She’s having chills and aches and pains again and has had to go back to her bed. There are lots of accounts like this circulating. People who have had it for a week and seemed to get better before being hit again and again by waves of new symptoms. One guy in our village, who has been sharing his experience in social media, is on day 16. He’s had good days and bad days and now seems to have lost his sense of smell and taste. When people get it badly, it seems to be a really nasty little bugger!

M has still not had a letter saying he is in the “highly vulnerable” group. but, as his nurse said, we shouldn’t put any store on that and carry on doing what we are doing. I’m not sure I’d want him to be “officially” in that group anyway. The guidance is far more stringent than what we are doing. It suggests that we should be living in seperate rooms, using separate bathrooms and cooking separate meals. No way are we going to do that! I’m confident that what we are doing is enough to protect him.

I popped round to our local Tesco for a few bits. Things had improved considerably since my last visit. A lady at the door was regulating who came in and out and making sure we all kept 2 metres apart. They provided alcohol and tissues to clean basket handles and there was a security guard outside. At the counter, the floor was marked out with tape to ensure the cashier was protected. I put my basket down and stepped back behind the line while she put the stuff through and packed it. Then she stepped away while I paid with contactless and picked it up. It all felt very calm and well-organised. Still no bread so I bought some yeast to go with the flour I got from my Ocado delivery!

When I got back I used some of the yeast and flour to make some cinnamon buns!

It’s yet another sunny spring day! We went out for a bike ride again in the afternoon. I can feel myself getting fitter already! We’ve only been doing a couple of miles or so, down to a nearby pub and back. Next week I’m going to ramp it up to a five mile circuit.

M cooked and after dinner we went outside the front door for the NHS Clap.

At 8pm, the country was encouraged to go outside onto doorsteps, balconies or at open windows and clap and cheer to show our support for the NHS, and all the carers, working so hard and putting themselves at risk for the rest of us.

I was dubious about whether people would do this in our street. Our neighbours on the left, are both hospital doctors with a young family. A divorced GP lives opposite us with his children. They weren’t going to come out an clap for themselves? The couple who live on our right keep themselves to themselves in normal times. He chats to M from time to time and, by all accounts, she has been in lockdown for weeks. She is a diabetic and has had Chronic Fatigue Syndrome over the past few years. She’s very fearful of catching the virus. I haven’t set eyes on her for weeks. Another hospital doctor and his family live further down, and next door to them are a family who only moved in a few days ago.

So, when we opened the door and stepped outside at 8pm on the dot, and the sound of clapping and cheering echoed round the village, my skin tingled with emotion. Windows were opening all down the street. People were hanging out of them, cheering and clapping. As expected, our immediate neighbors didn’t come out, but a lot of people did.

Yes, it was for the NHS and the care workers, but it felt as if it was about more than that. We are all shut up in our houses and generally only speaking to people on the phone or by video call. When we go out shopping and to exercise, other than a smile, we tend to avoid interactions of any other kind. We are all dealing with this situation pretty much in isolation. This felt different. It felt as if we were all in it together somehow, all connecting emotionally for a moment, in the middle of the most bizarre and frightening experience we have ever had, and hopefully will ever have, in our lifetimes.

For me though, clapping for the NHS was a tad ironic from a country that has failed to support the health service and its staff for years, happy to vote in governments time after time, that underpaid and undervalued its staff and underfunded the service. It’s not enough! Just saying.

The big news of the day was that the government has announced its support package for the self-employed. My basic understanding is that, through HMRC, people will be paid 80% of their average profits of the last three years, if these profits are under up £50,000 if their income from self-employment is their main income. I probably won’t get anything, as I only set up as self-employed a year ago and my pension (although small) has been my main source of income as I have tried to build up my business. M on the other hand should be eligible for some support.

London hospitals are reported to be experiencing a tsunami of COVID-19 cases. It sounds as though the worst is very much still to come.

Wednesday, March 25, 2020, Day 10, Week 2, of Self Isolation.

Global Cases 472,529
Global Deaths 18,890
UK Cases 9529
UK Deaths 465

Woke at 4am again today. Early, but not as early as 2am!

Went through some emails, to try and distract my mind from COVID-19, and discovered one from Ocado (our online grocery delivery service), saying that they were back in business, but with a few changes and restrictions.

I decided to have a go at placing an order, after hearing about accounts of people breaching social distancing rules in our local Tesco Express.

I was placed in an electronic queue for less than 5 minutes, then I was in! New rules state only one order a week and only one interaction – that is, no facility to go back in and modify your order once it has been placed. I didn’t have a list to hand, in bed at 4am, but placed an order for a few essentials and a few treats that I couldn’t carry from our local shop, such as cans of diet coke. When I came to check out, around 50% of what I had ordered came up as “out of stock” but I was still happy!

The only delivery slot I could find was 9.30 to 10.30 the same night! Exciting!

Got up then and did a bit of writing until around 9am, when M had scheduled an isolation exercise session. He had promised a little circuit training session but had changed his mind and gone for yoga instead. I arrived in the kitchen, sorry yoga studio, to find mats laid out on the floor, gentle music playing in the background, a waterfall image on the TV and glasses of iced water on the counter. You have to love him! But I hate yoga!

Putting the lid firmly on the can of my swelling negativity, I stood on my mat and awaited my first instruction. It was ok I suppose. I have arthritis in both my shoulders and the left one was replaced about 8 years ago, when I was in my early 50’s, so it was a painful experience, but I gritted my teeth and got on with as best as I could.

I spent the rest of the morning at my desk for the first time in weeks. Today I did some work on a biographical project. On behalf of her mother, I’m writing the story of a girl who was severely brain damaged at birth and is now in her early 30’s. Her mum is a fellow writer but was struggling to write the story herself as she was too emotionally invested in it. It’s a story of love and loss, legal and physical battles and strength and sheer determination. I hope to finish and publish it before the end of the year.

It was another lovely sunny day and the neighbours were out again in their car park. This time, as well as their deck chairs, they had a little table laid out with a picnic to go along with their wine and beer. It does make you think about how hard this must be for people in apartments without a garden or balcony. Good for them for making the best of the situation!

My 4am start eventually caught up with me and I took a nap for the rest of the afternoon.

M went out for a bike ride while I slept.

He cooked tonight. The last of our Mindful Chef meals for the week, stuffed peppers. Yum! I think we’re drinking more than we would usually. Well I am. M has to be careful as if he gets dehydrated it makes his chest worse. I opened a bottle of pink prosecco telling myself that it was lower in alcohol than most of the alternatives in the house.

After dinner we watched some TV until the Ocado order arrived. Whoho!

Receiving a food delivery isn’t without it’s own challenges. The food has been handled by who knows how many people, as well as the delivery driver himself. But, its got to be safer that being jostled by covidiots in Tesco, hasn’t it? It sounds ridiculous, but after I put the shopping away, I wiped down everything I had touched with disinfectant and washed my hands. I also suggested to M that we don’t touch any of it until the following day. Overkill? I just don’t know, but, as they say, better safe than sorry.

The main news today was as follows:

The response to requests for volunteers to help the NHS was amazing. Over 400,000 people have signed up and they are still coming!

Lots of stories and videos of workers crowded into tubes trains sparked a discussion about who should be going to work and who shouldn’t. The construction industry has been the subject of particular scrutiny after videos of building site workers crowding into canteens on their lunch breaks, were posted on social media.

The guidance is to work at home if you can, and only travel if absolutely necessary. Lots of people on zero hours contracts and contractors are in a confusing limbo at the moment. If they don’t work they won’t get paid, and the government still haven’t sorted out a satisfactory way of helping the self-employed. Apparently that will be announced tomorrow. We will await this with interest, as all of our own work has pretty much stopped dead and we have no income from the business coming in for the foreseeable future. We do have our pensions, so we won’t starve, and we paid off our mortgage a few years ago, so we’ll always have a roof over our heads.

There has been some panic buying of beer and wine and off-licenses have been added to the list of essential retailers! What does that say about us as a society?

Prince Charles has tested positive but only has mild symptoms. This has prompted some outrage around that fact that he got tested when nobody else can! Apparently, they’re working on that too. When they initially went for the “herd immunity” approach they decided not to test anyone unless they were admitted to hospital. However, when they back-tracked on that they failed to increase the testing as well.

The UK is at the bottom of the pile as far as testing is concerned. They say they are increasing the numbers of tests done, but anyone I know who has requested a test has been refused. Key workers are arguing that if they develop symptoms, however mild, they can’t work unless they know for sure whether they have the virus or not. There is also talk about an antibody test that will tell you if you have had the virus and developed some immunity to it – that would be really helpful when we start to descend the other side of the curve. But, we haven’t reached the peak yet!

Finally, a local guy posted on Facebook asking whether, or not, he should organise a retirement do on the village green for one of his employees who is retiring next week. He was proposing that a few people took chairs and drinks down and sat on the green 2 metres apart. When I read it I was sure it was a wind-up. Apparently he was deadly serious. He’s a really nice guy and I’m sure he meant well, but it’s safe to say he was shot down in flames.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020, Day 9, Week 2, of Self Isolation.

Global Cases 422,522
Global Deaths 18,890
UK Cases 8077
UK Deaths 422

I had my first decent nights sleep in days. I’ve been waking at 2am, head swirling, unable to sleep. Then, been exhausted all day and barely awake by 8 or 9pm. Asleep by 9 then awake at 2 again!

Last night managed to stay up until 10. Woke at 4 but managed to drop off again around 5 and slept till 8.30.

In the morning M phoned the Respiratory Nurse Team at the hospital. We’ve (correction, I’ve) been worrying about a few things:

Q: Is he on “the list” or not and does it matter? The government has put together a list of very high risk people who need to be “shielded” from the virus for their protection. Severe Bronchiectasis may be on the list but Mike was told he had moderate to severe disease. They will be sent a letter this week outlining what they should do (which amounts to 12 weeks isolation) and giving them a link to a hub where that can get support with this such as food and medicine deliveries. If M is on the list should I stop going out at all or should we be sleeping in separate rooms and using different bathrooms. He’s not had a letter yet.

A: They have no idea how the list is being complied or who will be on it and why. Basically, don’t put to much store on it, whether we get a letter or not, and carry on doing what we are doing.

Q: M has just finished his course of tobramycin and submitted all required sputum specimens to see if it has worked and eradicated the pseudomonas. But, his appointment with the consultant which should have been on the 3rd of March had been cancelled due to the virus. Previously, he has developed another chest infection within three weeks of finishing a course of antibiotics. We don’t want him t get another infection before he can start his long-term prophylactic antibiotics. I have also been concerned that his chest seems a little worse since the tobramycin. His chest is “noisy” when he breathes out and he seems to be coughing more but doesn’t seem to have an infection. Could be that his asthma was aggravated by the tobramycin, that his disease is progressing or an early infection.

A: They will look out for the sample results next week and email the consultant to arrange a telephone consultation. If all is well, she will arrange to start the long-term treatment remotely through the GP.

Q: The long-awaited immunology appointment has come through for May when we will still be officially in isolation. Should M attend or not?

A: Hang fire and see wat happens. It may be cancelled by them anyway. If not, we can cancel ourselves if necessary. Best to discuss with consultant on the telephone consultation.

All in all, a very reassuring conversation. The Respiratory Nurses and the Consultant, Gemma Hawthorne, have been FANTASTIC throughout!

It was a beautiful day today. Warm with clear blue sunny skies. I spent most of the day at my desk writing up my crazy long summary of the story of COVID-19 so far. A bit obsessive of me I know but I just wanted to get it all down for completeness and feed my need for completeness. Now, I can relax and focus on my daily diary entries.

I put the bins out today – usually M’s job. It’s amazing what some people will do to get out of their chores! Get a long-term lung condition and start a global pandemic.

I also did some housework. I hate housework. Always have. Always will. It’s so BORING! The irony about that is that I like to have a really clean and tidy house. For that reason, I have always had a cleaner. Well, that and because I am fundamentally to lazy to do my own housework and resent spending any of my precious time on it. There are so many other interesting and pleasurable things to do in a day. I’m awful. I know.

Anyway, my cleaner wont be coming during our 12 weeks isolation and I’m going to have to do it myself! Horror of horrors! Life can be so tough sometimes. Sob!

Well today I cleaned the ground floor including washing all the bins.

Today we both got the government text telling us to stay inside. We’ve got the message and so have the majority but there are still some idiots out there who think they are above it all. The term being used to describe them on social media is #COVIDIOTS.

A group of 20 people of all age groups in Coventry had a BBQ broken up by the police! People are crowding onto tubes in London. Even here in DH people are complaining that people are crowding the aisles in our local Tesco Express, makin it impossible to keep 2 metres apart. We walked round to the doctors and on the way back a couple of women and their kids crossed the road to our side for no reason at all!

In the car park behind the apartment next door a couple got out their deck chairs and sat and enjoyed a bottle of wine in the sunshine. A couple of neighbours joined them but stayed on the other side of the car. They chatted out there for ages without breaking any of the rules (I think).

We went out for a bike ride for our permitted exercise session. It was glorious!

The government briefing was all about recruiting volunteers for the NHS. They are converting the EXEL centre in London to a 2000 bed hospital and need people to help run it, along with other task like deliveries food and medicines to people in isolation.

The Olympic in Tokyo have been postponed until 2021.

Death rates in Italy are horrific still but new cases seem to be declining.

New York has seen a massive surge in new cases. Trump wants it all over by Easter!

COVID -19. The facts so far.

Today, I just want to summarise chronologically, for the record, the facts so far, mainly from a UK and personal perspective.

Apologies, that it’s a bit of a marathon read. It’s mainly for me and posterity, you don’t need to read it.

From now on, I will report facts and developments as they occur on a daily basis.

December

December 31, 2019
WHO notified of first cases of unexplained pneumonia- like illness in Wuhan, China.

January

January 3, 2020
44 suspected cases reported. All centred around Huanan seafood market.

January 4, 2020
We fly out to Barbados for a 3 week holiday.

January 7, 2020
New coronavirus 2019-nCoV identified as the cause.

January 9, 2020
1st death reported.

January 13, 2020
1st case in Thailand – unrelated to the seafood market.

January 15, 2020
2nd death in China

January 16, 2020
1st case in Japan – unrelated to seafood market.

We begin to follow the situation from Barbados – half-joking about what we will do if we get trapped in Barbados is a world pandemic is declared.

January 17, 2020
2nd case in Thailand.

January 19, 2020
204 cases and 3 deaths in China.

January 20, 2020
1st case in South Korea – unrelated to seafood market.

January 21, 2020
WHO confirms human-to-human transmission.
220 case worldwide and 4 deaths in China.

January 22, 2020
580 cases and 17 deaths in China.

January 23, 2020
China introduces some early lockdown measures in Wuhan and two other cities.
1 case in Singapore and 2 in Vietnam.

January 24, 2020
New cases in Japan, US and Nepal.
1287 cases in China and 41 deaths.

January 25, 2020
Cases reported in Australia, France, Malaysia and Canada
1975 cases in China and 56 deaths.

January 26, 2020
2801 cases in China and 80 deaths.

January 27, 2020
Cases reported in Cambodia, Germany and Sri Lanka.
Worldwide 4580 cases of which 4515 are in China. 106 deaths.

We return home from Barbados.

January 28, 2020
5974 cases in China with 132 deaths. Over 6000 cases worldwide.

January 29, 2020
Finland and United Arab Emirates report first cases.
Global cases 7816 with 170 deaths in China.

January 30, 2020
Cases reported in the Philippines and India.
9692 cases in China with 213 deaths.

UK risk level raised from low to moderate.

January 31, 2020
Cases reported in Russia, Spain, Sweden and UK.
2 cases reported in visiting Chines citizens in York.

Public Health information campaign launched advising “Catch it, bin it, kill it” and handwashing.

February

February 1, 2020
14,380 cases in china with over 300 deaths.

February 2, 2020
1st death outside China in the Philippines.
Global cases 17,386 with 362 deaths.

February 3, 2020
Global cases 20,625 with 426 deaths.
UK develop prototype specific laboratory test.

February 4, 2020
Global cases over 24,000 with 492 deaths.

February 5, 2020
Global cases over 28,000 with 565 deaths.
10 cases reported on a cruise ship in Japan, the Diamond Princess, giving Japan the second highest total after China with 35.

February 6, 2020
China 31,161 cases with 636 deaths.
Elsewhere, 310 cases with 2 deaths.

3rd UK case in Brighton. – Super-spreader contracts infection at a conference in Singapore, then travels to France on a skiing trip, where he infects 5 others that he shared a chalet with.

February 7, 2020
Diamond Princess in Japan reports 61 cases.
Unconfirmed reports of cases in North Korea.
Wuhan doctor, Li Wenliang, who first tried to raise the alarm in December, dies from 2019-nCoV.
1st contact from French chalet tests positive bringing UK total to 4.

We have some new blinds fitted that were made in China and the fitter’s wife has just returned from China. They give us a complementary pack of Jelly Beans. M won’t eat them so I do!

February 9, 2020
Global deaths exceed 800, surpassing those from the SARS epidemic in 2003/2004.

February 10, 2020
UK declares 2019-nCoV an imminent threat to Public Health giving them the power to forcibly quarantine people.
Global deaths exceed 900, surpassing those from the MERS epidemic in 2012.
4 new cases in UK bringing total to 8 – all 4 are contacts from the French chalet. 2 of whom are healthcare professionals.

February 11, 2020
WHO names the virus as COVID-19.
Deaths exceed 1000.

M starts a month-long course of inhaled tobramycin, twice a day every day.

February 12, 2020
175 cases on the Diamond Princess.

February 13, 2020
Spike in cases in China to 14,840, but thought to reflect increased testing activity.
9th UK case – a woman in London who was infected in China.

February 14, 2020
China reports that 1716 health workers have been infected with 6 deaths.
First African case reported in Egypt.

February 15, 2020
France reports 1st death.

February 16, 2020
1st death in Taiwan, 5th outside China.

February 18, 2020
92 cases in 12 countries outside China.

February 19, 2020
Iran reports 1st case.
Global deaths exceed 2000.

February 20, 2020
Iran 5 cases with 2 deaths.
South Korea 104 cases.
1076 cases in 26 countries outside China with 7 deaths.

February 21, 2020
Rapid spread in Iran. 18 cases and 4 deaths in 2 days.
500 cases in 4 prisons in China.

February 22, 2020
30 Britons brought home from Diamond Princess and placed in quarantine.

February 23, 2020
340 cases reported in South Korea related to a religious group.
Italy reports the largest outbreak outside China.
4 of the people from the Diamond Princess test positive bringing the UK total to 13.

February 24, 2020
Cases in South Korea exceed 700.
Cases in China begin to slow.
Cases reported in Kuwait, Bahrain, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Oman.

February 25, 2020
2nd African case in Algeria.
Cases reported in Switzerland, Croatia and Austria.

February 26, 2020
First South American case in Brazil.
Cases reported in Greece, Georgia, North Macedonia, Norway, Romania and Pakistan.
More new cases outside China than inside.
Every continent affected except Antarctica.

I develop the start of a mild virus. Headache, joint pains and dizziness. I don’t even think for a moment that it might be COVID-19 and still don’t, but who knows? It lasts about a week.

February 27, 2020
3,474 cases in 44 countries with 54 deaths outside China.
Cases reported in Denmark, Estonia, San Marino, and the Netherlands.
3 more UK cases bringing total to 13. Two travelled from Italy and one from Tenerife, where they contracted the virus.

February 28, 2020
Cases in Nigeria, New Zealand, Belarus, Mexico, Lithuania, Azerbaijan, Ireland, and Iceland.
WHO raises risk of global spread to “very high”.
38 countries have initiated travel restrictions.
UK cases jumps to 20, including the first person to catch the virus within the UK.

February 29, 2020
Cases in Ecuador, Qatar, Monaco, and Luxembourg.
UK cases 23.

March

March 1, 2020
South Korea and Italy have the most cases outside of China, with
3,736 cases and 1,128 cases respectively.
Cases reported in Czech Republic, Iceland, Armenia and The Dominican Republic.
UK cases 35.
1st case in Scotland.

March 2, 2020
Cases in Indonesia, Senegal, Portugal, Andorra, Latvia, Jordan, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, and Tunisia.
March 3, 2020
Cases in Ukraine, Argentina, and Chile.
UK cases 39.

March 4, 2020
1st case in Poland.
UK cases 87.

March 5, 2020
Cases in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Slovenia, South Africa, and Palestine.
UK case 116 with 1st death.

I think it was around now that we started to think about this more seriously. I remember that I took out some travel insurance for our forthcoming trip to Marseille (for the European Rugby Championships), in case we were not able to travel.

March 6, 2020
Cases in Slovakia, Bhutan, Peru, Costa Rica, Columbia, Cameroon, and Togo.
UK cases 163.

I went to the dentist today and was very conscious about handwashing. I remember thinking seriously for the first time about the risk of catching or transmitting the disease and what this might mean for M.

March 7, 2020
Global cases exceeds 100,000.
Cases in Malta, Moldova, Paraguay, and the Maldives.
UK cases 209 with 2 deaths.

M goes to the rugby with his daughter’s partner. I stay home as I’m still feeling the effects of the virus and want to rest before I go away with my daughter and granddaughter the next day.

People are talking about “panic buying”. I try to book an Ocado delivery for when I get back from my trip but no delivery slots are available.

March 8, 2020
Over 100 countries affected.
First cases in Bulgaria and Bangladesh.
UK cases 273 with 3 deaths.

I go for a two-day trip to Peppa Pig world with my daughter and granddaughter. We forget all about COVID-19 for a couple of days. Looking back, it was probably not a great idea!

M does a small food shop while I am away. He gets what we need with no problems.

March 9, 2020
WHO says threat of a pandemic is becoming a reality.
Cases in Albania, Cyprus, Burkina Faso, and Panama.
UK cases 317 with 5 deaths.

March 10, 2020
UK Health Minister, Nadine Dorries tests positive.
UK cases 373 with 6 deaths.

I have a couple of days at home before going to Scotland for a family funeral with my two sisters. M finishes his course of inhaled tobramycin. We are starting to talk about whether we will still be going on our celebratory trip to Athens the following week to visit M’s granddaughter.

Apparently, shops are selling out of toilet rolls and hand sanitiser. We haven’t been shopping as we are planning to be away the following week.

March 11, 2020
WHO declares pandemic.
Cases in Turkey, Côte d’Ivoire, Cuba, Guyana, Honduras, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines.
UK cases 456 with 8 deaths.

My sister arrives from Sussex to spend the night before we go to Scotland the next day.

March 12, 2020
Cases in Trinidad and Tobago, Ghana, and Gabon.
UK cases 595 with 10 deaths.

My sister and I drive to Harrogate to pick up sister 3. We visit our parents in their warden controlled home on route but don’t kiss them and pay attention to handwashing.
The three of us then drive to Edinburgh where we stay with our cousin and his frail partner. We don’t kiss them despite having not seen them for several years.

March 13, 2020
Europe declared as the new epicentre of the pandemic.
Cases in Kazakhstan, Sudan, Puerto Rico, Venezuela, Antigua and Barbuda, Ethiopia, Guinea, Kenya, Uruguay, Guatemala, St. Lucia, Suriname, and Mauritania.
UK cases 798 with 11 deaths.
London Marathon cancelled, and Premier League football suspended.

The UK government is talking about going down the “herd immunity” route.

My sisters and I go to the funeral. No kissing or hugging. Lots of jovial elbow bumping.
We decide not to stay an extra night as planned but head back to Harrogate that evening. We spend the night there. M and I cancel our trip to Greece – largely because our granddaughter contacted us to tell us Athens is “closed”.

March 14, 2020
Cases in Namibia, Central African Republic, Republic of Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Rwanda, Seychelles, and Eswatini.
UK cases 1140 with 21 deaths.

My sister and I head back to my home. We don’t visit my parents this time. My sister carries on home to Sussex.

M gets a bit of shopping as we are now not going away. Again, he gets what we need and no more without any problem, but says there is a mild sense of anxiety in the air.

We are babysitting our 2-year old granddaughter overnight as her parents are going to a wedding reception.

March 15, 2020
Cases in Uzbekistan and the Bahamas.
UK cases 1372 with 35 deaths.

The government appear to back-track on the “herd immunity” plan – apparently prompted by the catastrophe occurring in Italy who were also slow to impose “lockdown” measures.

Elderly and vulnerable advised to self-isolate for 12 weeks for their own protection.

M goes out planting trees in the village in his role as a Parish Councillor. I wait for him in Costa Coffee with our granddaughter as its pouring rain. I’m really thinking about the virus all the time now and when we get home we sit down for a serious talk.
We decide that as M is at high risk of a poor outcome if he catches the virus, we will self-isolate for 12 weeks from Monday.

Day 1 of Self-Isolation, March 16, 2020
Cases in Somalia, Benin, Liberia, and Tanzania.
UK cases 1543 with 35 deaths.

1st government daily briefing – PM encourages social distancing, self-isolation if sick or vulnerable, and working from home.

I think it was today that the “panic buying” started in earnest. People are behaving ridiculously!

We spent the day going through our diaries, cancelling and postponing what we could and re-arranging some things to be delivered remotely.

Day 2 of Self-Isolation, March 17, 2020
Cases in Montenegro, Barbados, Gambia, and Montserrat.
UK cases 1590 with 35 deaths.

We have enough food and essentials for a few days. We are NOT going to get drawn in to “panic buying”!

M went out for a bike ride. It really helps with his chest.

Day 3 of Self-Isolation, March 18, 2020
Cases in Kyrgyzstan, Djibouti, Zambia, El Salvador, and Nicaragua.
UK cases 2626 with 104 deaths.

I went out for a walk with M and he waited over the road while I went in to our local Tesco today and picked up a couple of little bits. Sour cream and chives to make some scones. Very bare shelves. Tried to touch as little as possible and washed my hands as soon as I got in.

Government announces school will close on Friday the 20th until further notice.

Day 4 of Self -Isolation, March 19, 2020
Global cases exceed 200,000.
Cases in Mauritius, Fiji, Chad, Niger, and Haiti.
UK cases 3229 with 124 deaths.

Many people are ignoring government advise on self-isolation.

M and I went out for a walk together. Met a few folks and talked to them keeping 2 metres away.

My best friend is ill with what she believes to be the virus. She has underlying chest problems.

Day 5 of Self-Isolation, March 20, 2020
Cases in Papua New Guinea, Cape Verde, Zimbabwe, and Madagascar.

UK PM orders all restaurants, pubs, gyms and social venues to close.
Chancellor announces it will pay up to 80% of workers wages if they are at risk of being laid off.

Another walk, this time with a friend who is working from home – we kept 2 metres apart throughout – and another visit to Tesco to try and get bread – picked up one of last of 2 packets of crumpets. No bread or flour but got a few fresh vegetables.

Day 6 of Self-Isolation, March 21, 2020
Cases in East Timor, Angola, and Eritrea.
NHS leader tells public they should be ashamed of “panic buying”.
UK cases over 4000 with over 230 deaths.

I went out at 7am to fill the car with petrol. Called in to our local butchers and had the shop to myself for 10 minutes! Bought some meat and fresh vegetables.

Day 7 of Self-Isolation, March 22, 2020
Global cases exceed 300,000
1st case in Uganda.

As the Ocado service appears to have died, decided to reinstate our Mindful Chef account. They send all the ingredients and recipes for meals for two in a weekly box. Ordered 2 meals for next week.
Lovely day. Went out for a bike ride with M.
Slow roasted a leg of lamb for lunch and tried to make a Bakewell tart with rice flour, cranberry sauce and dark brown sugar.
Face Time with my friend and her partner. She is feeling a bit better. She still has the cough though.

Day 7 of Self-Isolation, March 23, 2020
Global Cases 339,259
Global Deaths 14,706
UK Cases 6650
UK Deaths 335
UK PM orders “partial lockdown”.
People to stay at home and only go out once a day to exercise, to shop for food or medicine, or to go to work if absolutely essential.
Shops selling non-essential items to close along with libraries and playgrounds.
No gatherings of more than two people in public, unless they are from the same household.
This will be enforced by the police with fines as necessary.

I stayed in today. I’ve not been sleeping well. Keep waking up at 2am unable to get back to sleep. Knackered.

M delivered his first remote workshop. It was hard! He went out for a bike ride later.

My daughter brought round a card and some flowers for Mother’s Day. We had a chat, with me at the door and her on the pavement outside. She couldn’t bring the granddaughter as she wouldn’t understand why she couldn’t come in!

It felt weird. I washed my hands and cleaned the worktops after I sorted out the flowers. I gave a her a little shopping list of things I can’t get in local shops.

Apparently people are queuing for miles for their final McDonalds!

We’ve been Face Timing our family fairly regularly. Our son “tuned in” from Sweden for the PM’s announcement – we stuck the phone in front of the TV so he could watch. He struggles to follow the news in Sweden as he doesn’t speak much Swedish.

12 weeks isolation … week 1.

My partner, M, and I went into self-isolation last Monday for 12 weeks, as advised for his protection from Covid-19. He has bronchiectasis, diagnosed a year or so ago. A proud strong, and muscular, 62 year-old ex rugby player, he looks fit and well, so it’s an invisible disease to the unaware onlooker. The reality is, that he has had recurrent chest infections for the last two years. Every time he finished a course of treatment for one, another one would start two or three weeks later. He is currently battling a nasty infection with a notoriously difficult to treat bug, pseudomonas. For the past month he has been inhaling super-strong antibiotics twice a day, every day, through a nebuliser. He finished this treatment on the 10th of March and we were due to go to Athens the following week, as a little celebratory trip to visit his granddaughter who lives and works there.

Instead, we cancelled the trip and hunkered down at home for the start of a long and bizarre period of isolation.

I’ve been struggling to write about anything over the last couple of weeks. I have a long list of writing projects that I could be working on, but I just can’t seem to settle down to anything. The irony is, I now have more potential writing time on my hands than ever!

My head is full of thoughts about Covid-19 and what it means for my partner and I, our families and friends, and society and the world in general. Big stuff with no certainty around any of it! Big questions with no real answers to any of them! It’s a tough one for an over-analytical control freak like me. Last night I was awake for most of the night as it all swirled round and round in my head.

And so, today, I decided to write about it. To write about our personal experience of living in self-isolation. To write about my thoughts, feelings and observations. Maybe, by getting it all down, it will stop consuming my thoughts and I’ll finally be able to get on with something else? Of course, it might be bit self-indulgent because it’s essentially a diary and why would anyone want to read the diary of a middle-aged couple stuck in the house together for 12 weeks. Let’s be honest, its not going to be a riveting read! So read it if you want, and don’t if you don’t.

I hope it will also serve as record of what happened and how we all got through it, that we will be able to read it in happier times in years to come and say,

“Remember when … ?”

So, tomorrow we will have been doing this for one week.

1 down only 11 to go, – we hope!

Things have moved so quickly it’s crazy!

The week before we were getting on with our busy lives as usual. I went to Peppa Pig World on the Sunday and Monday with my daughter and A, our two-year-old granddaughter. On the Thursday, I went to Scotland with my two sisters for a family funeral, returning on the Saturday. We looked after A overnight on the Saturday, while her parents went to a wedding reception, and, on the Sunday, M was out planting trees in the village, in his role as a Parish Councillor, while I waited for him with little A, out of the rain, in Costa.

We were due to fly out to Athens at 9am on the Monday morning, but had cancelled the trip on the Saturday as our granddaughter had told us Athens was “closed”, so there was no point in coming. We sat down alone together for the first time that week, and properly talked everything through. I’ve lost track of how and when everything happened, but I think, by now, social distancing was being encouraged, people were being asked to avoid pubs and restaurants, and high risk and vulnerable people were being advised to self-isolate for 12 weeks.

M was reluctant at first. As well as my writing, I now work with him in our brand new training and development consultancy, Key Ways Consulting. We launched in February, in an expansion of his existing coaching business. We had our first few contracts lined up. A workshop in London in March and a very exciting project in June in Barbados. Sadly, we then spent the day going through our diaries cancelling what we could and arranging to do things remotely where possible. We only work part-time, as we have both taken out a couple of small pensions to allow us to ease off a bit now that we are in our 60’s. Our main pensions will kick in when we are 65, we hope! Fingers crossed that they, and our savings, are not decimated by the financial impact of the crisis.

That done, we tried to settle down to our new way of life. M has been working on re-doing his workshops for digital delivery and liaising with his clients on this. I’ve been going out on little shopping trips to our local small Tesco buying what we need on a daily basis. I’ve tried to touch as little as possible and wash my hands the minute I get in. We’ve avoided the crowds at the big supermarkets and so far we’ve been ok. I flirted briefly with a plan to bake scones and bread, as we couldn’t buy any, but I couldn’t get any flour. We try to get out for a walk every day, weather permitting, and today we went for a little bike ride in the sunshine. I’ll be honest though, I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time on social media, lazing around in my PJs, watching a lot of rubbish on the TV and indulging in my guilty pleasure, my PS4. I’m currently close to completing Assassin’s Creed Odyssey. (I know! It’s a weird pastime for a 60 something – more on that later maybe?)

On Friday, the government announced that pubs, bars and restaurants were to close, and lots of financial support has been generated to help people get though this. It’s not perfect but they do seem to be trying. Ideology seems to have been put to one side in a genuine attempt to implement, what amounts to a series of fundamentally socialist measures. I am usually the most ardent anti-Tory, and would generally never have a good word to say about Boris and his gang of merry men, but I actually do think they are trying to do the right thing on this occasion! All credit to them!

We may, or may not, go into full “lockdown” next week. I really hope not, as M needs to exercise outside every day to “clear” his chest. It’s the people who have, and continue to, defy government advise to socially distance, that may force this extreme step. These are the people who have really made me cross so far, along with the selfish panic buying idiots!

So, a bit of a top-line romp through the story so far. Now I’ve got started it feels good.

Stay safe everyone and please stay at home if you can!

Road Trip to Malmo – Part 4. Odense to Malmo.

Excited to be on the last leg of the trip, we were on the road early. The relatively short 120-mile journey over to Sweden was going to be all about the bridges!

The Storebaelt Bridge links Funen to Zealand. It actually consists of two bridges and an artificial island that spans the 11 miles between the two largest islands in Denmark.

The bridge was opened in 1998 in what was the biggest construction project in Danish history. It took 12 years to complete the project, which transformed the lives of Danish people. Prior to its completion, the only way to travel between the islands was by air or sea ferry. The journey today takes only 10 minutes. The bridge is open 24 hours and costs about £30 each way for an average car.

The Eastern bridge, the Ostbro suspension bridge, is a spectacular 4.4-mile-long structure. Rows of 85-metre-long cables fall gracefully away from two 250-metre-high towers. A tunnel carries trains to Sprogo Island where the motorway and the train track meet. The Western bridge, the Vestbro is a 4.1-mile-long box girder bridge.

Image by By Henrik Sendelbach, CC BY-SA 3.0

The Oresund Bridge links Denmark to Sweden. A 2.5-mile-long tunnel runs from Amager, an island just southeast of Copenhagen, to the artificial island of Peberholm. From there, the bridge runs 5 miles to the Swedish coast. The bridge is also open 24 hours a day but costs around £50 each way for an average car.

The bridge is a key element of the EU’s vision for a Europe without borders. The creation of Oresund region aims to integrate the Skane area of Sweden with the area around Copenhagen. Combined with a cashless economy and multilingual, open-minded citizens on both sides, it allows people to travel between Denmark and Sweden without restrictions.

Image By Nick-D – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0

We reached Malmo around midday, where our son was waiting for us at the apartment he shares with his partner, in the Davidshall area. He was keen to show us round the town that he has made his new home and, after a quick freshen up, we set off on an extended romp around the main attractions.

Trailing in his enthusiastic 6-foot-four wake, taking two steps for every one of his, we took in the sights and sounds of Malmo.

It is a small but charming little town. Rumours of a crime-ridden society fuelled by excessive immigration and a right-wing reaction to this, were completely unfounded. We came across a welcoming ceremony in the town square where new citizens from all over the world were being welcomed with music, applause and open arms.

We had lunch at the Malmo Saluhall, an indoor food hall based in an old warehouse where you can graze on free-range, organic charcuterie, Swedish sushi, oysters, salads, sandwiches, pizzas, noodles, home-made ice-cream and chocolate. Honestly, it’s a foodie’s paradise that’s definitely not to be missed.

After lunch, in temperatures approaching 30ᵒ, we indulged in a spot of people watching at the Western Harbour where locals sunbathed on purpose built wooden decking under the gaze of the soaring Turning Torso tower.

We took a detour home via the glorious Kungsparken before taking some time out to attend to our blisters and re-hydrate before the evening’s entertainment.

That night we ate dinner at Bastard, the restaurant where our son works, where we were joined by his partners parents. We ate outside, managing to keep dry under a canopy as the heat of the day gave way to torrential rain and thunderstorms. The food was amazing. He arranged for a veritable smorgasbord of all their best dishes. Plate after plate arrived at the table; rabbit rillette, oysters and rhubarb, baby gem salad with walnuts and cherries, asparagus and duck egg, cod and sea aster, rhubarb semi-freddo, fig-leaf ice cream. It was all divine.

The kids gave up their bed for us that night and slept on their sofa, as we were heading up to Gothenburg the following day, to return when they both had more time off work.

Road Trip to Malmo – Part 3. Bremen to Odense.

Germany

We hit the road straight after breakfast, taking the A1 north-east up to Hamburg before heading directly north towards Denmark. Driving on the autobahn was a little intimidating. The slow lane is slow, and the fast lane is fast. Very, very fast. As in The Netherlands, the “only use the outside lanes to overtake” rule is strictly adhered to. However, the inside lane on the A1 towards Hamburg was solid with container lorries heading for the port, and moving into an outside lane to overtake could be terrifying. You could check all your mirrors and be just about to pull out, when a high-performance car would appear from nowhere, travelling way over 100 mph, quickly forcing you to change your mind. As such, we made fairly slow progress for the first part of the journey, compared to the day before.

On a positive note though, this was the only area on our entire trip where we encountered any roadworks. Back home almost every journey these days is delayed at some point or another. Not the case in Europe, in our experience at least. Even when we did come across them, as we did near Hamburg, they were short and well-managed. There also appears to be a convention that lorries remain in the inside lane in traffic jams allowing cars two travel more freely in the two outside lanes.

The port of Hamburg is massive. Ships, containers and container cranes for as far as the eye can see for miles and miles. Eventually, we entered the tunnel that took us under the Elbe estuary and out the other side into the most northern state of Germany, Schleswig-Holstein. Almost a peninsula, the area sits between the Baltic and North Sea bordered by the river Elbe and Denmark. It is an area with a turbulent history, having been controlled by Germany and Denmark at different times over the centuries. It is a largely rural area and one of the least densely populated areas of Germany, famed for its impressive lakes and beautiful sandy beaches. The last part of the drive through Germany was, therefore, mercifully scenic and peaceful after the congestion approaching Hamburg.

Denmark

Around lunchtime, we crossed the border into Denmark near Flensburg, when the A7 became the E45. Crossing the border here involved a little bit more fuss than The Netherlands German border, where nothing happened at all, other than the satnav informing us that we had crossed it. We had to pull over and queue for a few minutes to show our passports.

A few hours further north, at Kolding we headed east, leaving Jutland over the first of many bridges, for Funen, Denmark’s second largest island. We arrived at Odense, our destination on Funen, early afternoon and checked in to our hotel. This time we had pushed the boat out a bit and had booked the Radisson Blu Hans Christian Anderson, which was walking distance from the obligatory Hans Christian Anderson museums. The hotel was lovely. Modern, clean and comfortable with spacious rooms and great beds!

The weather took us by surprise. It was hot and sunny and the Scandinavian equivalent of a Bank Holiday weekend. The tiny square outside the hotel was full of people drinking outside in the sunshine at red chequer-cloth covered tables. We spent our afternoon in the cool of the Hans Christian Anderson House and Museum, before also giving in to the temptation of enjoying some outdoor refreshments.

Across for the bar, and right outside our hotel, was a traditional Danish restaurant, Gronttorvet (Green Tortoise). It seemed very popular and, rather than repeating our Bremen experience, we decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth and book a table. They were busy and only had one table left, for two, outside, at 6.30pm. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

After a quick change, we were sitting at another, chequer-cloth covered table (green this time) in the quaint, cobbled square, enjoying a chilled bottle of Gewürztraminer. This was our first encounter with the eye-watering Scandinavian wine prices. At just under £40 a bottle, we only had the one. The menu was traditional but the house speciality, which all the locals were eating, Stegt Flaesk (crispy pork, served with white potatoes, homemade beets and parsley sauce), had to be pre-ordered at least two days in advance. So, I had gravid lax to start and Mike had the, apparently famous, Green Tortoise tart, which, in fact, did not contain Green Tortoise, but chicken and asparagus. Who knows, maybe Green Tortoise tastes like chicken, or vice versa. To follow, I went for the Pariserbof, minced beef on French bread with homemade pickles, and Mike had the Herregardsbof, minced steak with pea salad, fries and bearnaise sauce. We finished with homemade apple pie and chocolate cake. Thank god it was a one-minute walk back to the hotel! It was a great meal in a great setting for about £120 for two (including the £40 on wine), but I’m not going to pretend we weren’t more than a little envious of all the Danes around us enjoying their pre-ordered, holiday celebratory Stegt Flaesk.

Road Trip to Malmo – Part 2. Hook of Holland to Bremen.

The Netherlands

We disembarked at 08.00 local time and were on the road by 08.30. On the way out to Malmo, we’d decided to split the journey to into two four-hour trips on Day 1 and Day 2, and a shorter, hour and a half trip, on Day 3. On the way back, we planned to do the whole journey over two days. Our destination on Day 1 was Bremen, in northern Germany.

We hadn’t anticipated how difficult the first morning was going to be. Be warned, the area around the Hook of Holland and Rotterdam is incredibly busy, especially during rush hour. Negotiating congested, fast-flowing, four-lane motorways with multiple consecutive complex interchanges and exits on both sides, while adjusting to driving on the right, proved to be too big a challenge for us. We ended up missing a turning and were forced to abandon our planned scenic route and just follow the satnav.

However, once we got out of the Rotterdam area, things improved considerably, and we made good progress. We followed the A12 that skirts south of Utrecht and joined the E30 just after Apeldoorn. We crossed The Netherlands in about three hours stopping only once for lunch at a service station.

Driving in The Netherlands was straightforward. Good roads, courteous fellow drivers and plenty of good quality stopping places. This was the first time we noticed some driving practices that, we later realised, seemed to be commonplace across northern Europe. In particular, was the strict adherence to the principal of only moving into a faster lane to overtake. Very rarely did we come across middle lane “hogging” and it contributed to the overall enjoyment of the driving experience.

Services were generally good, but we would definitely recommend La Place, if you see one. Good quality fresh food, spotlessly clean, comfy furniture, log fires, magazines … honestly, well worth seeking out. A complete contrast to the typical motorway service station.

Bremen

We crossed the border into Germany just after lunch. The 150 miles or so between the border and Bremen is quite remote and rural with very few places that warranted a stop, so we headed straight for our destination, arriving in the early afternoon. We’d booked into Motel One in the centre of the town within walking distance of all the main attractions. We parked up the street in a public car park at a cost of about £20 for 24 hours. The hotel is modern, clean and comfortable with small but very stylish rooms and does a great breakfast. At £76 we felt this represented great value for money.

We made the most the weather and of our limited time in Bremen by heading straight out to find a biergarten on the riverside. Paulaner’s an der Schlachte was a good choice. Nice beer in a lovely location. Suitably refreshed, we took a stroll down the river to the old town where we explored Schnoorvietel, the historic district that dates back to the 15th century. Narrow, cobbled streets are crammed with restaurants, cafes and craft and souvenir shops. We were drawn to Hegarty’s Irish Pub, not by the lure of the Guinness, but by the availability of an outdoor seat in the sunshine in a pretty little square.

From there we wandered up to the main square, or Marketplatz. A wide square, typical of many European cities, overlooked by the town hall, the cathedral, the parliament building and a series of tall gabled houses. At the centre of the square is a statue of Roland, a nephew of Charlemagne, who was a key influencer in the political autonomy that Bremen enjoyed in the 15th century.

It was here in Marketplatz that we first encountered the Bremen town Musicians. The musicians were a donkey, a dog, a cat and a cockerel, all characters from a fairy-tale by the Brothers Grimm, in which they trekked to Bremen together to escape a lifetime of drudgery and neglect. They are represented in a sculpture in Marketplatz, standing on atop of one another in a pyramid formation.

We enjoyed a small carafe of wine in one of the many large outside cafes in the square, before looking for somewhere to eat. Having been distinctly uninspired by any of the German restaurants we found (sorry Bremen!), we decided to have a curry in Restaurant Shalimar, right next door to our hotel. We’d spotted it when we arrived and joked about having a German curry, never imaging that’s where we’d actually end up.

It was good though. Poppadoms and pakora to start, followed by Lamb Saag for me and Lamb Biryani for Mike. I’m a sucker for anything Indian with spinach in it, and Mike gauges the quality of an Indian restaurant by the quality of the biryani. It passed! Our only mistake was chatting to the owner about where we were from. Turns out his brother owns a restaurant on the Foleshill Road in Coventry, close to where Mike grew up, and everybody knows that Birmingham, where we live now, is world famous for the Balti. European curries, in our experience, are often quite mild, to allow for the chilli intolerant European palate, and we did ask him to make sure it was spicy. However, we felt he had overcompensated a tad when our food was served eye-wateringly hot. Nevertheless, true Brummies that we are, we thoroughly enjoyed it! So, if you’re ever in Bremen and fancy a curry (unlikely I know) definitely seek out Restaurant Shalimar, but don’t ask them to spice up your food!

We fell into bed around ten, tired, tipsy, totally stuffed and ready for a good night’s sleep before Day 2, Bremen to Odense, the home of Hans Christian Andersen.

A Better Place

There must have been thousands standing in the rain that day. We’d arrived just after dawn, thinking we’d be among the first, but the square was almost full when we got there. The queue was confined within a series of compact, orderly rows, by red rope barriers. Row after row of young men and women, waiting. The air hummed softly with their collective hope, but beneath that was a faint, but distinct, whine of despair.
We were three rows from the back. I’d counted seventy, as we made our way down, and there had to be at least a hundred people in each. But that was just the queue in the square. Beyond the end of the barriers, a line of people, three or four thick, snaked irregularly down, what had once been the main shopping street, as far as the eye could see.
I’d not seen so many people gathered in the in the city centre like this for years. Way back at the beginning, when the GCC had introduced some controversial new policy or something, I’d been to a few demonstrations. There had been thousands of people at some of these, but they were different to this. They were loud and vibrant. People waved flags and banners, blew horns and whistles, wore face-paint and bright, colourful clothing and carried backpacks crammed with spare clothes, food and drink. People were angry and indignant back then. We were still happy back then. We still believed in the future. A future.
Now, we were resigned, subdued, fearful. This gathering It was very quiet and orderly. People spoke very little and, when they did, it was in hushed, soft voices. No-one wanted to attract any unwanted attention, to jeopardise their chances of being selected. They just wanted to wait patiently in line until their turn came. There were no flags or banners, no horns or whistles, no backpacks. All we had with us were the clothes we were standing in, and these were dirty, dull and frayed. We’d been instructed specifically not to bring anything with us. If we were selected, everything we could possibly need in the new world would be provided.

I think the GCC officials were a bit taken aback by how many people had turned up. They hovered around the edges of the crowd, in their high visibility jackets, glancing at us but not making eye contact, frowning and talking in low voices on their walkie talkies. Occasionally, they looked towards the large grey building at the other side of the square, where the queue began. At the front of the building, was a large set of double doors, at the top of a wide flight of stairs. Despite the humidity, all the doors and windows were firmly closed but, I was sure I could see shadowy figures watching us from inside, lurking behind the net curtains. I was also pretty sure they had air conditioning. The net curtains fluttered slightly, as if caressed by a soft breeze. But there was no breeze. I clenched my jaw against their hypocrisy.

Next to me, Grace was shivering a little. It wasn’t cold, it was almost never cold anymore, but she was soaked through. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her thin shoulders. She smiled up at me. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, making the dark shadows beneath her eyes look like bruises.
“Thanks.”
“Won’t be long now. The email said registration starts at nine.”
She looked at her watch. “Ten to.”
“See. Just a few more minutes and we’ll be moving.” I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She pressed her cheek against my chest. Her damp hair smelled like vanilla and coconut.

It had started to rain about an hour after we arrived. It’s always raining these days. I always imagined that global warming would bring endless hot, dry days, but it appears that the opposite is true … for now at least. Something to do with warmer air holding more water vapour. I say “for now at least” because the GCC tell us that one day soon the rain will stop and, when it does, we’ll really be in trouble. As if we’re not already.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, as a sudden wave of nausea hit me. What was I thinking? What was I doing to Grace? To us? I couldn’t trust these people. They had lied to us time and time again. Imposed one crazy policy after another, and yet carried on living their own lives as if nothing had changed. I don’t even really know what we’re applying for. A new programme, a new world for young healthy young people. A chance to live, a chance to have children, a chance for a future. But where, how? It was very vague, very non-specific. But that was the point, they said. They wanted young, brave, healthy people. People who were prepared to take a risk for the future, for the human race, for the planet.

I had seen the first poster a month before. I’d been cycling back from the allotment with a basket of gnarled potatoes and a bunch of skinny carrots. It resonated with me right away. Something about the images stayed with me, smiling families, children, pets, bowls of fresh fruit, shiny white furniture. I thought about it all the way home. The seed was sown. By the time the leaflets, emails and notifications started to come through, asking for volunteers to attend an initial screening programme, it had taken root. I was convinced that this was what I had to do. What we had to do. Grace and me.

Our parents were devastated. When we told them, my mother wept, and my father just sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands.
“Mum, please?” I’d said. “Try to see it from our perspective? You and Dad have had a life. You’ve had jobs, kids, you’ve travelled, everything!”
“Son, we love you.” Dad looked up. His eyes were red. “Of course, we want all that for you, and more, but it just isn’t possible anymore. Times have changed. Just think about it. It doesn’t make sense. If something seems too good to be true, it almost always is.”
“It can’t be any worse than this! No meat, no fresh fruit and veg, except what we can grow ourselves, no power, except what we can generate ourselves, constant rain but not enough water, no cars, no new clothes, no jobs, no kids, no fucking money …”
“Ian, Ian.” Dad interrupted.
“Look, Dad, I know you don’t trust them because of everything they’ve done, but they’re trying. It’s hard. It’s really hard. We’ve gotta do something! Try something! We’re dying. The FUCKIN’ WORLD IS ENDING!”
“Ian!” Mum stopped crying. She was angry now. “That’s enough.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Look, we’re going to give it a try and that’s it. If it doesn’t work out, we can come back.”
“Are you sure?” Mum asked.
“Yes, I read it. It’s not compulsory. It’s not a prison.”
Grace’s eyes met mine. I looked away.

Now, standing in the registration queue, something didn’t feel right. Considering that we were all headed for some bright new future, there was a distinct lack of excitement. The invitations and information briefings had been upbeat and enthusiastic. Now, that we were actually here, the atmosphere was tense and apprehensive. Sure, it was a bit scary, stepping into the unknown like this, and the rain and the shifty GCC officials didn’t help, but there was something else. Something nagging at me. Something ominous, menacing.

I remembered an article about the GCC I had read the previous summer. It was on a subversive website that had popped up on my social media feed. It talked about corruption and elitism in the GCC and their belief that the single causal factor in global warming was overpopulation. It described their policies as Malthusian and suggested that their ultimate aim was extreme population control. It talked about eugenics and genocide and compared them to far right and fascist regimes of the past. It was fake news, of course it was. The conspiracy theorists had gone berserk over the past few years. Understandably so. But they were all nutters. Of course, they were. But what if … ? What if … ?

“Grace … ” I started. “I’m not … ”

My words were left hanging as the cathedral clock chimed nine. The crowd murmured. There was a scuffle of activity ahead of us. The GCC officials straightened their backs, poised and ready to officiate. The double doors at the top of the steps opened with a series of heavy clunks and a grating of metal on stone. Grace took my hand and stepped forward. I didn’t move. She took another couple of steps then turned back to look at me. Our arms were outstretched. She tugged my hand. Her eyes pleading. Still, I didn’t move.

“What’s the matter?”
“I’m just not … feeling it.”
“What d’you mean?”
“I’m …”
“Ian, come on. It’s time. Don’t do this.”
“Sorry.”

The queue was moving steadily now. I could see people ahead, ascending the steps and entering the building. People behind us looked at me questioningly, jostled me, started moving past us. What was wrong with me? I wanted this. Of course I did … Anyway, what choice did we have? What was the worst that could happen? I was getting paranoid. Been reading too much fake news. They weren’t going to murder us! I was losing my mind. I was just having a little panic. It’s a big deal after all.

I smiled at Grace and moved towards her.

“Sorry.” I kissed her forehead when I reached her. “Just a little wobble. I’m fine now. Let’s go.”

We turned and walked hand in hand towards the building.

Road Trip to Malmo – Part 1. Harwich and Stena Line Ferries

Why

Earlier this year, our youngest son moved to Malmo, in Sweden. His partner is Swedish and, for the past few years, they’ve been living between Malmo and London. Uncertainty over the impact of Brexit on their way of life and their future, prompted him to give up his job, as executive chef for a couple of successful restaurants in London, and move to Malmo before the 31st of March. Of course, as we all know, the 31st of March has come and gone and nothing has changed, but the least said about that the better …

Like all mums, I was keen to see where and how he was living as soon as I could. I’m not entirely sure what that’s about. I think it’s partly about peace of mind and simple curiosity, but at a deeper level, it’s also about reducing the feeling of distance between us. Since I have been to his house and spent time in the town that is now his home, it feels closer, more real somehow. Now, when he talks to me about what he’s been doing and where he’s been, I can visualise it more easily. When we Facetime, I know exactly which room he is in, because I recognise the picture on the wall. I know what the view is from the window of that room, because I’ve been there and seen it for myself.

And so, we decided to visit in June, just a few months after he arrived himself. I’d have gone sooner, but waited until June as we were in the Hebrides in April, our baby granddaughter was one on the 29th of May, and our son and his partner suggested it was good time to visit from a weather perspective. To be fair, it also gave them a bit of time to settle in.

We decided to make the journey by car, partly because a European road-trip was an item on our 60’s bucket list and our son still had a few bits and pieces that needed bringing over, but largely, just because we could! Having finished full-time work in March, I’m still revelling in the glorious decadence of having complete ownership of my time. We could have flown over, spend a long weekend there and flown back, in four days, but instead, we took four days to drive there and three to drive back, on top of the six days we were out there. Time-rich decadence indeed!

Harwich

A little bit of research indicated that Stena Line ferries seemed better value than P&O, and that Harwich was our closest port. The shortest route to Harwich, according to Google Maps, was via the M25, but we opted for the cross-country route via Cambridge. Our common sense and experience telling us that delays on the M25 were highly likely to cancel out any advantages over our chosen, slightly longer but more scenic route, that meandered along the A14 through Northamptonshire, Cambridgeshire and Suffolk.

And so, we set off just after lunch on a Monday morning and reached Harwich just in time for tea, driving past the ferry port and heading down to the old town in search of somewhere to eat. Harwich is a place of contrasts. A humdrum small Essex coastal town to the south, an international port to the north and an unexpected, tiny historical conservation area with a distinctly nautical theme, to the east. We were both charmed and delighted by the old town, which was not without it’s own contrasts. On one side of the estuary, the network of quaint medieval alleyways, and architecture dating back as far as the 17th century, overlooks the towers of multicoloured shipping containers and oversized cranes, of the humungous port of Felixstowe.

Relative to its size, old Harwich appeared to have a preponderance of small hotels and drinking establishments. The buildings, many of which had long since been converted to shops, or fish and chip shops, were small with overhanging upper floors, solid timber doors and cross-windows. My overactive imagination transported me back to the days when it would have been a bustling 17th century port, and the inns full of seamen and pirates, waving tankards of ale and singing sea-shanties.

The Pier

Before I could get too carried away, my husband shook me from my reveries by reminding me that we had to find somewhere to eat before heading back to the ferry for the 9pm boarding.

We decided on The Pier, not because we knew anything about it, but because it overlooked the harbour, looked busy and inviting, and specialised in seafood. We briefly considered eating outside, to make the most of the views, but although it was a lovely June evening, there was a cool breeze blowing in from the North Sea that just trounced the warmth of the sun.

As it turned out, dinner at The Pier was a great way to start our Scandinavian adventure. I had the scallops with mushroom puree, pickled mushrooms and bacon jam to start, followed by baked spiced Harwich crab with skinny fries and pickled red onion. Mike had salt and pepper squid, his “go to” seafood starter, and the fish pie. As we were driving, we washed it all down with water and a single glass of house white. It was all divine! Great food in a beautiful setting that took us completely by surprise.

Stena Line

Completely and utterly replete, we headed off to the ferry port. Our boat was due to depart at 11pm but boarding was from 9pm. We had been advised to get there an hour before boarding at 8pm. To be honest, the early arrival was unnecessary. Boarding was very straightforward, involving a few simple security and passport checks, and we were settled into our little cabin by 10pm. We resolved to arrive for the return journey at boarding time exactly.

Travelling by ferry is not cheap. A cabin is mandatory for the overnight crossing, and as we intended to sleep for most of the journey, we went for the basic two-berth, inside option. Basically, bunk beds in a small, windowless cocoon. It was cramped and uncomfortable, and the feeling being completely cut off from the outside world was, frankly, a little claustrophobic and disorientating. All in all, at £50 a night, when you compare it to the average price of a room in a decent Premier Inn, not very good value for money. In total, the return journey cost us about £300 but it could have been considerably more had we chosen a more luxurious cabin (not difficult), and travelled in high season.

It wasn’t all bad. After a look around the ship, which boasted several lounges, bars, restaurants and a cinema, we snuggled into the bottom bunk, shared a bottle of wine and watched some TV, before tossing a coin to see where we would sleep. Unlike when we were kids, the loser got the top. I won …