When the event in your life that you are looking forward to is the inauguration of a new container for your daily pills, then I might suggest that your standard for a new experience is Lockdown Limited.
We have become used to accepting the more quotidian in place of the exceptional, because what we used to take for granted: visiting new places, meeting friends and family, eating out – all have become more problematical with the see-sawing restrictions that we have had to live with for the last eight months or so.
But my day was about to become more eventful, though not intentionally so.
I had to get a new supply of my pills from our local pharmacist and I incorporated that chore as the finale in my morning exercise.
Having completed my morning swim, I emerged into the morning sunshine to find that the outside seating area of the café part of the pool had been converted into one large ‘crime scene’, with the striped plastic tape making sure that all the tables and chairs were out of commission.
The café is now a take-away establishment only and, as one regular said, “What am I supposed to do? Buy a take-away coffee and walk around the block drinking it, before I get back into my car?”
So, bereft of my bocadillo and cup of tea (a mixture of Earl Grey and English Breakfast, they know how I like it) I set out on my bike ride down to Port Ginesta intending to call in to the pharmacy near our house on my return.
It was cold. Although I am still wearing T-shirt and shorts with the essential sandals, I am getting to the stage where long sleeved shirts and gloves are going to be a necessity.
I arrived at a fairly deserted pharmacy that is part of a commercial development that includes garage, shops and restaurants – that, given the new lockdown regulations, were not generally open.
I attempted to dismount from my bike, but after a 15km ride (well, it’s a lot for me!) and what with the cold, I was a little stiff and I unbalanced and brought the bike down on myself.
As I have previously had occasion to explain my bike is fat wheeled and heavy, so trapped by gravity and a solid metal frame I hurtled to the ground!
I was more shocked than in pain – though there was pain as well – and, as there were no people around I sprawled on the ground, trapped by the bike and weighed down by my backpack and felt truly helpless!
I eventually disengaged myself and dragged by bloody way into the pharmacy, bleeding from both knees, my left elbow and, oddly, right foot. The pharmacist noticed nothing and so, somewhat shocked with bloody track lines streaking down my legs, I collected my pills. And cycled home – easier than wheeling the bike.
My arrival back in the house was dramatic as the amount of blood on legs and feet made the wounds look much more dramatic than they were. Dabbing away the excess revealed the cuts’ actual extent and emergency treatment with TCP commenced at once.
The impressive bruise on the side of my knee has now deflated and I am left with seeping and pain. In my usual way of dealing with infirmity of any sort, I took to my bed for a few hours to allow my body to do whatever it is that it does in times of stress. And now it is time for another cup of tea and some light reading.
I have decided to give the pool a miss for the weekend to allow the scabs to form and, anyway, I think my fellow swimmers might be a little disconcerted in the time of a pandemic to see me wandering around with open wounds! Well, open-ish, and more like cuts to be absolutely truthful, but I am prepared to milk whatever sympathy I can get.
Meanwhile I fully intend to be ‘palely loitering’ for the duration of the weekend and emerge revivified on Monday!
