189 – Walking Through Lockdown
And so it goes on. Coming up to a year, now. Facebook “Memories” each morning highlight the last of those crowded events we went to back when
And so it goes on. Coming up to a year, now. Facebook “Memories” each morning highlight the last of those crowded events we went to back when
Their eyes widened as I tried to explain ‘salted caramel’. A flavour that has long been popular in the UK but is only just arriving in Spain
LOCKDOWN DAY TWO: Monday is the first “normal” day of the lockdown. I go to the surgery for routine blood tests. Everyone is maintaining
It’s just as well that the Spanish prime minister is easy on the eye. Guapo, we say in Spanish. Just as well, as we sit glued to the television
I get to the bar first, bang on time. You can take the woman out of England but you can’t take English punctuality out of the woman. Miguel
At Málaga airport they let me through the normal passport queue. A relief. The EU citizens’ queue. My first flight after THAT date. Exit
They were already queuing to get back into the hostel for their lunch when I parked outside on Christmas Eve, risking leaving the car in the
As I boarded I had a sneaky feeling it was a complete waste of time. No, that’s not fair. It’s always lovely to see friends in Dorset, and I
Church halls pretty much anywhere in the western world all look remarkably similar. This one was just like the one in Yorkshire I went to in the
There was a nurse on my flight home to Málaga. A Spanish nurse, working in a GP surgery in Dorset. British husband, dual-nationality totally
Forty degrees and higher. Really, that is too much. The rhythm of the day changes to suit the temperature. At the hottest time, after a lazy
Back when I worked (oh how long ago it seems, now!) I was up with all the jargon. Words like social inclusion, stakeholders, outcomes and
Forty-four days. I go for my morning walk, my feet heading automatically to the Enchanted Place. The almond blossom is just finishing, and the
It’s fascinating to think about life in other ages, though significantly harder (for me, at least) to separate those epochs in my mind and
The tradition began a few years ago. A coachload of villagers from my pueblo and a nearby one had gone off on a holiday together to Almería in the