LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - DAY 42 – Sunday, 26th APRIL

As I had to replenish my meds I visited the pharmacy this morning, giving me a representative view of the effects of the loosening of the lockdown in respect of children under 14.

   There were plenty of kids around and with the exception of one child none of them was wearing a mask and neither was the parent.  The kids were on scooters and bikes and in one incidence on a skateboard.  The paseo was fairly full and there were people on the beach.  The fact that this is notable in a seaside town speaks volumes for what we have been going through!

     Perhaps it is naive to suppose otherwise but the kids acted as though there was nothing wrong and that there had been nothing wrong.  If that totally understandable reaction of the kids is transferred to the parents, or even more disturbingly has come from the parents, then the virus results in a fortnight are going to give pause for thought.

     If things go according to the plan outlined by the Spanish government, then next week we may see a further loosening of the restrictions, and adults will be able to exercise outside too.  What exactly that might mean is not clear at the moment – but the idea of being able to go for a bike ride at least would be something to look forward to.

     Whatever happens in the immediate future, I think the idea of breaking down the in-house seclusion will gain an inevitable momentum that will be very difficult to reign in again.

     There are hundreds of people in Spain dying every day from Covid-19, the crisis is nowhere near over, but the mind set is looking towards some sort of conclusion.  And that is dangerous.

Meanwhile in Britain, tomorrow sees the return of the incompetent politician who went out of his way to get infected with Corvid-19 and who ‘leads’ a government that dithered at the start of the crisis ensuring the grotesque figures of infected and dead that we have now.

     One wonders how he will stage his return and then how he will divide his time between trying to explain what has gone on and working towards a no-deal Brexit.  I shudder for the future of my country.

     Talking of shuddering, Cummins the creepy power behind the empty throne is a participating member of what should be a purely scientific advisory committee.  The revelation in The Guardian about his membership over the weekend has sparked a controversy, but given the way that this government reacts to such things, I wonder just how much traction such a revelation will have.

The continuing story of printing out the final draft copy of The Coast of Memory has now reached epic proportions.  The problem is the ink.  God alone knows what sort of depraved electronic jiggery-pokery there is inside a printer that limits the usefulness of the ink in cartridges, but the woeful capacity of the replacements that I have used in the printing is beyond astonishing.  I suspect that there is some artificial limiting device that is able to override the obvious and audible reserves of ink in the cartridge and ensure that it is inoperable.  I refuse to give up, but the last printing was less than satisfactory.

     I might even end up going to a commercial outlet.  Except, of course, all of those are closed at the moment.  Ah, the travails of the would be publisher are never over!

And tomorrow is the next on line Catalan meeting!

LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - DAY 39 – Thursday, 23rd APRIL

 

We seem to be trapped in a never-ending news cycle that endlessly repeats itself: statistics and excuses.

     It is fairly obvious that the present front bench is no longer truly concerned about how this crisis works out in terms of the human cost, but rather in who is going to be blamed for the way in which the crisis has been managed.  They can already see the various paragraphs of blame in the conclusions of the inevitable public inquiry and they are thinking, as always, only about their own survival and that of their discredited party. 

     If I was a member of the group of scientific experts that have had any contact with the Conservative politicians I would be engaging a lawyer now to keep a watching brief for the time that the Tory scum begin to put all the blame for their actions on the selective scientific advice that they will claim that they always followed.

     I think the case for corporate manslaughter charges against relevant ministers is almost overwhelming and I would willingly support a crowd-funded appeal for funds to prosecute the perpetrators of the fatal self-serving dithering incompetence that characterised the management of the crisis so far.

     The story of the PPE supplies get more murky by the second, with the Turkish connection being more akin to farce than competent procurement.  We have utilized the RAF to fly to Istanbul to get a partial cargo back!  The PRIVATE firm that our government has used to store the PPE stockpile has been sold to another firm during the crisis!  You couldn’t make this rubbish up, but is par for the course for a government that can pay millions to a ferry line with no boats.

     All this and Brexit too!  The bunch of third-rate incompetents still have the desire to take us out of the EU with no deal.  Weeping is not enough!

     The papers are taking a little time to consider who might be the scapegoat for the fatal disaster of crisis management.  The obvious candidate is Matt Hancock the man without fixed ethos, who swallowed his previous beliefs for the tempting offer of a seat in the sort of cabinet that he would have shunned previously.  But, what the hell, in the dregs of ability that is the present Conservative Party, he is some sort of star.

     With what has happened so far in the debacle of the crisis he has said things and made claims that cannot all be true.  He has therefore said the thing that was not.  And there is the question of the 100k tests that he has promised by the end of the month which are clearly impossible to deliver.  So that will be a resigning matter.

     With a fragmented cabinet in the absence of the Blond Buffoon and with the in fighting that must be going on, poor old Beckett must be wandering around with a selection of knives sticking into his back! 

     I have zero sympathy for him.

The talk of exit strategies is gaining ground, though we are not getting very much clarity about what they might be.

     Here in Spain I think that the weekend relaxation for the isolation of kids might be a way of the government seeing how well or how badly the population runs with this.  If it is a disaster and people take advantage then perhaps there will be a swift reversion to a stricter lockdown; if it goes well, perhaps it will be a start of a series of relaxations.

     The Scottish parliament is saying that some form of social distancing will be in force until the end of the year, at least for the at risk sections of the population.  We are not dealing with any definite information; there is no way that plans can be made for any events months ahead.  When is flying to and from Spain going to start again?  No idea.  And no idea about when we might expect to get an idea.

At least the sun shone for some time today.  I’m thankful for that.

    

Everything in its time

A nondescript sort of a day. 

 

Rain first thing in the morning, then a day of sun shine dampened by lowering clouds – but not cold at all.  Yet another brightly dull day.  And I have real faith that tomorrow will be a true beach day.  I believe.

And the writing is flowing a little more freely.  After my morning swim (which lasted a little longer than usual) I found it easy to scribble out a few thoughts that might well make it into poems in some future time.

The day was not made any better by a bitterly disappointing lunch in one of our regular restaurants: a forgotten meal meant that two of us had finished before the gambas for the third had arrived.  The paella starter was tasteless and the orange at the end of the meal was stringy and lacking in sweetness.  Hey ho!  You win some and you lose some.

The plan for the rest of our guest’s stay includes a barbecue and a visit to the library of MNAC: we know how to make people feel welcome.

There is a distinct feeling of the end of the summer about Castelldefels at the moment.  Not only has the temperature dropped appreciably, but also kids appear to be just that little more hysterical as they realize that shades of the prison house are beginning to grow around the jaded holiday-heavy kids!  And the retired sense that the streets are soon going to be returned to their suzerainty as the neophyte organisms go back to their institutions.

Talking of institutions.  Christmas came to mind as I availed myself of the facilities in our local shopping centre.  As I was washing my hands, the unmistakable strains of a particularly repulsive Musak version of ‘The First Noel’ accompanied my ablutions.

It is the end of August, literally months away from the Festive Season – and a Christmas carol!

In the UK I grew used to ‘Back to School’ promotions in supermarkets almost as soon as the kids had broken up for the summer.  No, wait a bit, as a working teacher I never got used to the vulgar, uncaring reminder that work was waiting a mere six weeks in the future, but the sickening shock was deadened after repetition: the first twenty years were the worst.

This is not on a par with hearing the first cuckoo of spring - there is a sort of leaden inevitability of suffering the season-before-the season with the relentless commercialization of anything that can give capitalism a buck!  But Catalonia used to be (is?) different.  The shameless extension of special days into previous months that is a characteristic of Britain is not quite so prevalent in this country.  Or at least it used not to be. 

 

I do hope that those musical strains are not a prelude to a very long countdown to Christmas!