A New Strife in the Sun: Coronavirus, A brief interlude
LOCKDOWN… DAY 1!
“It’s my turn to walk Brian, you walked him last time! Where’s his pet passport, have you hidden it?” My husband stares accusingly at me while I fiddle with my Lidl bag.
“It’s where you left it, on top of the packing boxes, open your eyes!”, I yell back through the bubble wrap.
It’s March 15th and we have been ordered to stay indoors, which is a tad inconvenient seeing as though we are due to complete on our flat in 2 weeks time. We have already paid a deposit on rented accommodation and have committed to purchasing an ongoing business.
All of this on the proviso that we complete on our flat on April the first. But there’s one more fly in this ludicrous ointment, our buyers live in Denmark and unless they plan to swim over (which is forbidden as all the beaches in Spain have been shut) I have no idea how any of the above is going to be achievable.
Oh, and my son is due to start a new fee paying international school, did I mention that?
“Mum, can I go on my Play Station seeing as there’s no school? It’s a war game so it’s kind of like studying History…”
I stare longingly at the bottle of Vodka nestled happily between the loaves of Bimbo bread. We have decided to give up alcohol until this whole pandemic is over but already I can feel my willpower slipping away, not unlike my good health if I decide to start licking external door handles.
“Do we need anything from the supermarket while I’m walking the dog?” my spouse cheerily enquires.
“No! That’s another day out, we can’t combine the two! If you’re walking the dog then I get to go to Iceland to buy Vimto and chat to the lady who calls everyone Sweetie”, I reply… less cheerfully.
My husband frowns “are you allowed to go to Iceland? That’s over the bridge, we have El Jamon closer, won’t you get frog marched home by the lurgy police?”
I stare at the man I married. Does he not know me at all? How is a middle aged woman supposed to stay in enforced solitary confinement without a supply of Scotch eggs and a pack of frozen crumpets? If he thinks a man in uniform is going to come between me and my pack of overpriced Ginsters then he’s sadly mistaken.
Grabbing my moped keys I make a bid for freedom out the front door. I have my passport, I have my Nie, I have my scarf wrapped round my face and my latex gloves on. I have my hastily sanitized 50 euro note.
“Have I forgotten anything?” I wheeze through my wool enclave as I turn at the door?
“Yes you have Paula, it’s Sunday, and the supermarkets are shut!”
READ ON, STILL HERE… DAY 2!
To receive an email as soon as a new episode is uploaded, simply visit the HOME PAGE and subscribe at the bottom.
Click HERE to read all about our relocation to Spain