LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - Day 95 - Thursday 18th June

My day was defined by the late nature of my swim.  It seems really petty, but when you are used to a routine, any deviation from it is irritating – especially when your general living is determined by the dictates of a pandemic.

     We are now in Phase 3 of the measures that we are supposed to be taking.  No one really knows what they are exactly, but we feel that we are getting closer to the New Normal, which in turn means that we are freer to do what we used to do, but we are also more worried by the fact that the progression towards this New Normal is being driven by economics and not by an reasoned, scientific rationale.

     There are still deaths and new people being infected.  We have not real idea of the true extent of the virus in the population and we do not have adequate test and trace measures, but, what the hell, the sun is shining (generally) and people need a little vitamin D to bolster their immunity levels so, so, so.

     In the UK the latest U-turn of a government prone to reversals (in all senses of the word) concerns the mobile app that that man Johnson told us would be “world beating” or some equally meaningless burble that is about all he can manage these days.  The app has now been rejected as if it had never existed.  The app that was an essential part of the uniquely English way of dealing with the virus is no longer apt.  It is a dead app.  It has never been.  And of course, people continue to die!

We went out to our favourite restaurant this evening to have the tapas that they do so well.  We were able to eat inside, indeed we were able to eat at ‘our’ table, but the feeling was not quite as it was.  A selection of tables around us were bedecked with striped tape to ensure that the tables ‘un-taped’ were the regulation distance apart.  It made the interior of the restaurant look more like a crime scene than an elegant place to eat.  But the food was well up to standard and if you didn’t look too closely you were able to kid yourself that this was just another evening meal in a decent restaurant.

     We even went to a fairly newly established ice cream shop where we always have a good conversation with the owner.  He is now trying to make a going concern of a place that is trying to make economic sense from an Easter and Summer season compressed into two short months.  The ice cream was excellent, and I enjoyed it while I could!

The NT Live production this evening was Small Island adapted by Helen Edmundson from the novel by Andrea Levy.  The direction by Rufus Norris using the set by Katrina Lindsay was elegantly seductive.  The movement around the set and the unpretentious coups de theatre were a joy.  The use of film, music and actors was a delight to watch.  There was a tautness about the dynamics on stage which constantly delighted.

     From time to time I found myself wondering about the basic narrative and there was an element of the over-contrived in the way that disparate elements were linked.  It was stagey in a completely satisfying way, but I sometimes found the very slickness of the narrative a tad condescending.

     The acting was excellent and there was a real sense of ensemble in the performance.

     Although the play deals with harsh reality and some sickening prejudice, it is at heart a feel-good production and, although ‘loved’ is the final word of the play, there is also a sense in which the ‘solution’ to the various strands of the story line of the play are not so easily explained or coped with by a single positive emotion. 

     But, perhaps that is the point that the play is making: the play is historical and the attitudes it portrays are not those of 2020.  Yes, racism is still a glaring element in our daily news with the resonance of “I can’t breathe” reverberating around the world.

     The Black Lives Matter movement is not looking for the ‘salvation’ of a single person, it is arguing that systemic prejudice must be tackled by systemic change: causes need our attention, not merely ameliorating the problems on the end results.

     An engaging play which certainly worked with the live audience and gave some pause for thought for the viewers too.

     I urge you to watch it for free while you have the chance!

Tomorrow another odd start for my swim, I must remember to check when I have to get up before (that is the key) I let my head touch my pillow!

LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - DAY 22 – Monday in Holy Week, 6th APRIL

Escape!

     My first physical emergence into the wider world!  Well, I drove to Lidl a couple of kilometres from my home for our weekly shop and then drove back again.  As Toni has done this previously, I have to admit that I was mildly excited by the prospect of finally getting out of the house and environs for the first time in three weeks!

     The reality of my journey was, of course, an anti-climax.  I drove along virtually empty roads to a virtually empty Lidl car park, just as I used to find each day as I cycled to the pool for my early morning swim in the ‘old days’ of just under a month ago!

     Gloved and masked I marched towards the shopping trollies to find out that I had no change – when was the last time that I used money as cash?  Luckily there was a Lidl employee at the entrance and she went to a till and found me a plastic token and emphasised that I could keep it, and it is now safely lodged in my wallet where I will probably forget that I have it the next time I find myself without change, but still, a little gesture makes all the difference to a shopping expedition!

     At the entry to Lidl was a person who demanded that all shoppers first use the hand sanitizer and then glove-up before they were allowed to go in.  As I was already wearing gloves I had to sanitize and the liquid stayed damp on the plastic for a damn sight longer that it did on flesh.  But, who could quarrel with this basic form of hygiene and it did emphasise a level of concern that one could only hope was carried on into the store itself by the shoppers.

     People did keep their distance and there was an obvious wariness about Others, as the best form of protection is to assume that everyone you meet and see is positive for the virus.

     To my utter horror there was no Cheddar cheese in the dairy section.  I specifically went to Lidl because they have a 15-month matured Cheddar at a cost that matches that in Britain and without the premium that decent Cheddar has elsewhere in Catalonia – if you can get it.  I was able to compensate with a few other cheeses, but Gouda and Emmental hardly match Cheddar for taste, texture and versatility.   How I suffer.

     The other main reason for my going to Lidl is their range of nuts and the prices they charge.  I did not trust Toni to understand the quantity and variety of nuts that I demand for everyday use and rather than explain and justify it was so much easier to go myself!

     I got virtually everything that we had decided was essential and the only things that I failed to find were radishes and soya sprouts – no great loss, either of those.

     On the more than positive side, for the first time in Lidl I found sugar free ice creams and sugar free biscuits – and for the sake of my sanity, I understand ‘no added sugars’ to be synonymous with ‘sugar free’ because, yes.

     We are now set for the next week with only fresh bread for Toni being an on-going concern.  We do have a bakery near us and Toni goes there every couple of days and brings back a little treat with the baguettes.

Going shopping did not push my steps up to the minimum that my unrelenting smart watch demands, and by the time that we had put everything that I bought away.  We were both exhausted.  Let me explain.  Toni is a stickler for the correct procedures so we therefore wiped each and every item before we put it away.  As it was a ‘major’ shop, it took a lot of time, with my being accused of being slip shod in my wiping.  God give me strength!  Anyway, at the end of the putting away, going for a walk to make up my steps lost out badly to having a decent cup of tea and then one thing led to another and suddenly it was night, and therefore time for me to work on the poem ideas for PIHW Poem 2.

     And that is what I need to get on with now.  PIHW Poem 1 is on smrnewpoems.blogspot.com and by tomorrow morning I hope that it will be joined by Poem 2.

     Work to do!

LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - DAY 11

I am, as I never tire of telling people, a Labrador person: yellow, bitch to be precise.  It therefore comes as something of a personal insult that people (even flat dwellers with limited space) can contemplate providing living area for the various species of rat dogs (goggle-eyed, spindly-legged, yappily-voiced) that abound in this area.  One such grotesquery lives near us, and its emasculated barks cut through the air with the irritation of a domesticated buzz saw.  It is the sort of sound that is intolerable at its first utterance; continuation is torture.

     When I started my solitary walk this morning on the first of many circuits of our communal pool, I was accompanied by the cringe-making sound of the damned dog-insult-creature.  And then I saw why it was making the sound.  Sitting in the lane that runs behind the creature’s house was an entirely unconcerned cat, studiously ignoring the high-pitched hysteria of the so-called dog.

     I am no lover of cats.  While I can admire the liquid beauty of the larger beasts of the category, I find the domestic variety repellent.  I think it’s the tiny teeth and the lazy contempt that I find so uncongenial.  To say the least.  
      I am not entirely negative: some cats are sleek and refined, but that is the sort of thing that you can admire in pictures, not in reality.  Anyway, this cat was obviously glorying in the commotion that it was causing and by unconcernedly licking itself and showing its undying contempt (which I share) for the noisy scrap of canine vulgarity.  However, that same attitude was extended to me when the cat noticed that I was walking about.  I changed my direction at once and made towards it.  Lazily, with that elegant lassitude that only cats can show, it moved away to its ‘home’ and the dog-scrap immediately shut up.  Mission accomplished!

     That was the only point of interest, as I wandered around and around with only the sound of BBC Radio 4’s In Our Time programme on George and Robert Stephenson and the birth of the railways filling my ears.  As usual one comes away from programmes like that with snippets of knowledge to keep one sane: did I really know that it was Robert who did the work designing The Rocket and not George? 

     I also picked up on the panel’s championing of the Stephensons as opposed to the showier grandstanding of Isambard Kingdom Brunel (surely one of the few engineers who most people know by his full name) with some withering comments on Brunel’s engineering skills being somewhat partial as opposed to the comprehensive nature of the Stephensons’ skills taking in both the civil and mechanical aspects. 

     Radio 4 and The Guardian are the mainstays of my sanity in a time of confinement. 

     God bless them both!

We have been informed that this week that the number of cases of Covid-19 may peak.  The numbers certainly give no cause for complacency as Spain has now surged past China in the number of people with the virus.   
     One town in Catalonia has been put on total lockdown with people banned from coming in and out of the place.  This is because of a spike in the numbers infected.  Catalonia seems to be taking things extremely seriously and there appears to be growing animosity between Madrid and Barcelona, as Madrid appears to be much more lax than Barcelona – with a consequent surge in numbers of infected.

     We are also hearing of incidents of absolute stupidity.  The police stopped one car with five people in it (including one person in the boot!) who were going to visit a family!  Another couple of guys were found in a bar having a drink, claiming that it was a business meeting: that did not impress the police who promptly arrested them!

     The renovations in the house next door have ramped up again.  There are now two vans on the road outside and a variety of people working inside.  The people seem to be taking no precautions at all: no masks, no separation – and nothing happens.

     Toni is very cynical about what is going on and says that the stories that we actually get to hear of people not taking the virus seriously are just the tip of the iceberg and that things are going to get much worse as our period of lockdown continues for the next couple of months.

     As I have not been outside the front gate for ten days now, it is difficult for me to gain any real perspective from a first hand point of view; everything is via the television and the Internet.

     People are becoming lazy in assuming that the only fatalities are going to be the old or those with underlying conditions, but the death of a 21 year-old with no underlying conditions should be a wake up call to those who think that they are not vulnerable.

     We are all at risk, and I am more than prepared to put up with these restrictions if it is a matter of life and death – and it is a matter of life and death!

Last night I was ‘doing’ part of my new course on paintings and watched a series of videoed lectures on Van Eyck and Van de Weyden and, as I watched I could not help feeling a certain sense of dislocation between what was happening in the wider world and my attempting to rationalise my position of normality by studying Art History: when in doubt look at a painting! 

     That hardly seems to be practical advice – but that isn’t the point is it?  At times of instability and upheaval you find whatever ‘still point’ works for you to give the equilibrium you need, and if that is found in daubs of oil on canvas, then so be it.

     It is easy to rationalize turning to Art (capital A) in any of its forms to find placidity.  You are tapping in to a version of western culture, something that has lasted, stood the test of time, something that is generally regarded as important, something which seems to stand for the achievement of humanity that is larger than a single work or a single person, it links to into a continuum, into a story of progressive achievement that welcomes your passive contemplation and encourages your active participation.  Or something.

Toni has resurrected his electric guitar from the chaos that is the third floor and with notepad, Internet and a badly tuned instrument is attempting to drive me upstairs to get away from the more than slightly-off cacophony that learners engender.  This adds a new dimension of horror to our containment!

We have had a talk about how long we really think this form of confinement is going to last and we have come to the conclusion that things are not likely to get back to anything resembling normality until June or July.  God help the US if the man-child governing the country decides that “everyone back to work by Easter and with full churches” is the way forward.  I only hope that our political leaders have a tad more responsibility than that ignorant person (and that last word was my fifth choice!) when it comes to recognizing that a situation has returned to normal. 

     I am sure that there is someone somewhere who is calculating just how many people died to fit in with a political rather than a national methodology when it came to dealing with the virus. 

     CEOs and other executives of businesses can now be accused of Corporate Manslaughter if it can be shown that people have died because of the actions of individual firms. 

     It is not enough that our political leaders can be ‘voted out’ at the next general election; they should be held judicially culpable for the mortality of their political choices.  And I look towards the Civil Service to ensure that the paper proof of decisions by the politicians survive to be considered by the inevitable commission of enquiry that will take place when we are finally out of this crisis.

The weather has been cold and blustery with some periods of sunshine – not really the weather to laze out on the third floor terrace, but each day brings us nearer to the period of unrelenting sunshine that will make the time go more pleasantly.  Please.

Meanwhile, we try and not get too upset at the seemingly deliberate idiocy on the part of those charged with our safety.  Time after time, it seems that the only real safety is in our own hands and the intelligence and patience with which we approach the demands of this situation.

And I miss ice cream!  I really do!