26th March 2020

Overnight, there was yet another hard frost. Sadly, 113 more lives were lost and were not here to witness the beautiful day that followed. In total, COVID-19 has claimed 578 British lives. The death toll remains far lower than in Italy, Spain, and no doubt many other nations, but the grief is shared by us all,  as is the fear.

There are over half a million confirmed cases worldwide, with an untold number yet to be identified. For those of us fortunate enough to be living through this, albeit under new restrictions and with our relationships constrained, we must cherish the future. We must also recognise that we are not only responsible for our own destiny but for the well-being of others.

Two members of the family received accolades today, making Sue and me feel rather proud. First, Sarah, who is taking a Foundation Degree course, received a brilliant response from the examiner for her dissertation. This was quickly followed by a glowing letter from Lucas’s French teacher, which must have given Charlotte and Suraj great pleasure.

It’s such a shame that the family can’t meet up to celebrate their success. However, this situation won’t last forever, and when we do finally reunite, we’ll certainly have something to look forward to: party time!

My cycle ride this morning took me through the villages of East Farndon, Marston Trussell, and Lubenham. As expected, there were hardly any motor vehicles on the road, though I regularly passed dog walkers, ramblers, and other cyclists. I’m used to seeing them, but not usually on a weekday, and certainly not those considerably younger than myself. I suppose if I were in their position, unable to go to work, I too would throw myself into some socially responsible physical activity.

Usually, when I pass someone on one of my rides, the Yorkshire in me urges me to cheerily wish them a ‘good morning’. Today’s informal survey: 50% of the cyclists, 100% of the dog walkers, and 0% of the ramblers responded to my pleasant greeting. Any suggestions for dealing with the silent ones?

Aside from pausing at the vineyard in East Farndon to check on the pruning, I also stopped to wander around St Nicholas’ churchyard in Marston Trussell. Standing among the ancient gravestones, my mind drifted to Europe between 1347 and 1351 and the Black Death and the influenza epidemic after the First World War. I wondered whether any of the graves before me held the remains of those.

I lingered for a moment, reading once more the information board beside the metal entrance gate. I’ve done this several times before, but I never tire of the tale it tells, of the unfortunate Royalists who, after fleeing the battlefield of Naseby, were caught in the field next to the church by Parliamentarian forces. With the road stopping at ‘Pudding Bag End’, they had nowhere to run and were slaughtered. The site of their last stand was renamed Slaughter Field. A tragic yet fascinating piece of history.

Sue and I spent another day in the garden, she weeding and clearing, while I worked on making a frame for a painting we had bought in Parintins, Amazonia. With the frame completed and the glue set, I turned my attention to the plot where I had removed the strawberry plants the day before, digging it over in preparation for whatever comes next.

At lunchtime, I called an old rugby friend, John Lee, in Lincolnshire to see how he was coping with lockdown. Unsurprisingly, he and Catherine were spending the day much the same as Sue and I. He would have preferred to be out trout fishing, but the authorities had closed the lakes.

Shortly afterwards, I rang Jim Hankers in Cyprus. He had just finished his evening meal. Despite being alone, he was coping well and still managing to socialise with the expats on his small estate. His wife, Brigitte, remains stuck here in Leicestershire. He had spent €160 that morning stocking up his freezer and larder, knowing he would be there for at least a couple more months. He told me that before travelling anywhere on the island, he has to complete an online form and present it if stopped by the police; otherwise, he faces a hefty fine. It seems this is the case in much of Europe. Hopefully, it won’t come to that here.

Jamie has volunteered as an NHS Volunteer Responder and will be helping vulnerable people in the community. Sue’s sister, Philippa, is assisting with the coordination of medical prescriptions for the housebound in Buckfastleigh, doing so over the phone.

At 8 pm this evening, the nation was encouraged to stand in their doorways and on balconies to applaud the efforts of NHS staff, emergency services, and all those keeping the country running.

27/03/20

On the day the death toll rose to 759, Boris Johnson tested positive for Covid-19 and went into self-isolation. Ironically, Matt Hancock, the Health Secretary, also succumbed.

My bike ride this morning took me south of Harborough. Although sunny, it was chillier than in previous days, and fewer people were out exercising. Joining the Brampton Valley Way on my way back into town, I passed through Waterloo Farm, a fishing and camping ground, ignoring a large sign blocking the lane: “Please go home and respect our safety.”

I followed a small caravanette down the lane. As it pulled up in front of the hoarding, I glimpsed the disappointment on the driver’s face; he would have to find somewhere else to fish or stay today. I carried on down the track, heading towards town along the disused railway line.

Passing through the town centre, I was surprised to see a 200-metre queue outside Waitrose, all maintaining the two-metre rule and patiently waiting their turn. Sainsbury’s had a queue of about 100 metres, Tesco’s stretched 20 metres, Wilko had just three people waiting, and the Co-op had none. On my return, Sue surmised that the Co-op was too expensive. Personally, I’d rather pay a little more than stand in a queue for an hour, exposing myself to infection for longer than necessary. Surely that makes sense?

Once again, Sue and I spent the rest of the day at home. I finished framing the painting and then planted some broad beans. Sue completed her genocide of Willow Bank’s population of spiders and weeds.

During my morning coffee, I came across a Leicester Mercury news item featuring photos of Harborough under lockdown, fascinating and well worth a look.

Charlotte had a baking day with the boys. Suraj has been told he must go to work, as a member of his team has gone into self-isolation. Lee has been busy painting garden furniture, while Sarah has completed some arts and crafts decorations for the baby room she has been working on.

I received an email from Ken and Chris, friends we made on the Magellan, though that now feels like years ago! They live in Spain and are under a far stricter lockdown than we are. They can only go 50 metres from their home and then only as individuals. The police seem unwilling to turn a blind eye, with fines of €600 being handed out. However, they are having building work done (Chris’s craft room), which, surprisingly, is allowed, though social distancing must be maintained. Fortunately, their home is deep in the Spanish countryside, making isolation the norm. The nearest COVID-19 case is 2km away in the nearest village; hopefully, it stays there.

In the afternoon, I took a call from Aunty Josie. She and her son, David, are both well, though with their underlying medical conditions, COVID-19 is something they must avoid at all costs. We chatted for nearly an hour, catching up on family news from the Welsh branch. I promised to call again next week.

Later, a friend, Jim Crawford, dropped off a load of very useful terracotta pots on the doorstep. Social distancing meant he didn’t stay to talk.