Day 5 of self isolation.

For the first time, I took my allotted exercise this evening, 31st March. I didn’t walk far, it was dark and eerie, and I feel much more within my comfort zone inside my house. However, tomorrow, I shall make the effort in daylight hours, now that I am becoming accustomed to these strange and tragic circumstances. I called Freda tonight, a lady in her eighties still struggling to come to terms with what still feels like a fairly recent bereavement. In normal times, she looks down from her window to see a flow of traffic and people around, enjoying what the centre of the town has to offer. Friends, including me, would call frequently.

I did have some idea what I might be coming home to last Friday afternoon, (Day 1), but hadn’t a clue what it might be like in reality. At the moment, I have all the food I need for several days. The heating works normally, and the TV schedule appears little altered apart from detailed and lengthy updates on the COVID 19 situation. I am extremely fortunate; I had travelled to “The End of the World” (Ushuaia) and all sorts of exotic far away places, and “got away with it.” I didn’t find myself confined to my cabin with no fresh air, for days on end, as people on other cruise ships had done. I didn’t become stranded in any of the far-away places I enjoyed visiting, and a brand new coach was waiting right next to the ship in Southampton, to take me and a few others close to where we live. The arranged taxi showed up in very good time, and soon, I was at my home, freshly spring- cleaned by the firm who take care of the house work and laundry; all there was for me to do was to settle back in and arrange further food and other “essentials” delivery.

Apart from a “curiosity ” drive around Buxton the evening after I arrived home, I had not left the house until tonight (Day 5). We are allowed only essential shopping as infrequently as possible, and one session of exercise each day. On board ship, I had the run of almost all of the public areas on the vessel. I don’t think there was a day I walked less than a mile; I will check! Tonight, I left the house and ventured into the dimly lit lane outside. I didn’t feel inspired to go far. The houses were lit, far more than seemed usual, when I have done night walks before. And yes, I could hear distant conversation. But, for the first time, I couldn’t call on anybody, and nobody is allowed to call on me. Given the present situation, I have no cause for complaint whatsoever.

It is Hannah’s birthday today, a lady I had the immense pleasure of meeting last year on Queen Mary 2. Her parents called with presents, but social distancing brought home the seriousness of what the whole world is experiencing albeit at different levels. I can’t stay with my sister, and even hotels are not welcoming other than essential workers. And going out for my permitted walk, at last, I think I am beginning to comprehend and take on board, the enormity of this scary situation. In modern parlance, “I need to get out more!”