Tuesday 31 March 2020

State of Alarm - Day sixteen

After a short spell of rain this morning the sun appeared, and the breeze blowing the clouds away was noticeably warmer than at any time since I've been here - a breath of spring at last. I was glad to capture a couple of shots of an almost white butterfly feeding on white flower similar to a big Michaelmas Daisy.


As I'm almost out of home made bitter orange marmalade, with no chance of acquiring any, and most reluctant to settle for the bland shop bought kind, I resolved to make some lemon marmalade with fruit from the tree outside the front door. Sarah sent me the recipe, a useful reminder of scale and proportion of quantities, then I collected five smallish lemons from the tree, and realised there was no kitchen weighing scales to be found. 

I improvised a balance using a pack of three small tins of tuna, which I think was just about the same weight as the lemons, just 350 grams. There was a kilo of white sugar in the cupboard, and I used roughly the same weight of sugar, not being all that keen on really sweet marmalade anyway. It probably wouldn't keep as long as a standard batch, but then it wouldn't last as long either. 

While I was doing my daily circuit walk after lunch, Clare called. We remembered making  marmalade with ignored  lemons dropping off the neighbour's tree during a locum spell in Nerja. I ad libbed a recipe for one batch, and Clare cooked some properly by the book! Then we both went into our respective kitchens to cook. Clare was baking biscuits, and I cut up and cooked the lemons while we chatted. It was most enjoyable, and free of the usual pressures and conflicts which arise if two people with different cooking styles are occupying the same work space. As well as praying on line together, it occurred to me that people may want to try cooking at the same time and chatting on-line as they do so. 

My marmalade trial was quite encouraging but yielded just one full standard jam jar and a third of a second smaller jar - call it proof of concept. I can scale up and make more another time.

This evening, with my exercise and cooking done, I thought I'd join the evening's prayer vigil on Zoom. Just as I was about to start the app, the house phone rang. Earlier, a local church member had rung on the landline so I thought I'd better answer it just in case. It was my 91 year old sister calling to check me out from Weston super Mare, where she lives, housebound on her own, unable to be taken out anywhere at the moment, relying on home deliveries of food ordered on-line by daughter Nicky from a hundred miles away. It was lovely to hear from her. We last spoke on her birthday, the day I arrived in Ibiza. That was a lovely surprise. Try again to join the vigil tomorrow.

Time to start work on preparing next Sunday now, and Holy Week beyond that. My first month away from home has slipped by very quickly.

Monday 30 March 2020

State of Alarm - Day fifteen

In addition to domestic tasks and exercising today, I had to focus on writing and recording the bible study commentary for tomorrow. Clare did me proud by recording the scripture passages from Acts chapter eight on her phone and emailing them to me for editing in to the sound file. Her sound files were better quality than mine. Annoyingly, they were in a proprietary .3GP file format which were playable, but wouldn't load into Audacity for editing. 

Windows 10 was, as it is so often, unhelpful in resolving this. As it also was in refusing to connect to my four year old standard Samsung phone. It works a treat with any Linux device and with my ancient Chromebook, which offered a cloud based file conversion facility swiftly and effectively. It just meant transferring converted files by flash drive from Chromebook to Windows 10 which hosts the vital copy of Audacity I edit with. It was just before midnight by the time I emailed a audio file of twenty-one minutes length to Dave, and it was just inside the website's 25mb file upload limit.

Plenty of job satisfaction in hitting my deadline, with all the other daily tasks also completed. I think I shall sleep well tonight. Small signs of the infection rate slowing down in Spain, though the death rate remains high. The UK is gearing up now, preparing massive field hospitals for the flood tide of gravely sick patients which will arrive in the next two weeks. The rate of mass testing which has helped other countries grapple with covd-19 is still far too slow in being rolled out on a large scale. I don't understand why the UK government has been so slow to learn from others. Thinking we are an exception and can always afford to do things our own way could cost Britain dearly. It's yet more brexitis, sad to say.


Sunday 29 March 2020

State of Alarm - Passion Sunday

I started the day reciting Morning Prayer and the Eucharistic texts of the day. I didn't look for the Canton Benefice streamed service on line, or any other, but then, to be honest, I didn't look too hard. I have been pretty busy one way or another, keeping in touch with people, and maybe undervaluing the gift of solitude I received through the choice I made to stay here and not leave. It's something that has to be welcomed, something to become immersed in, with all the fears and uncertainties of entering the unknown, where the interplay between the conscious and unconscious mind takes on a different dynamic.

The life of people who commit themselves to the way of the hermit within monasticism has been of interest to me over the years, since discovering the third century Egyptian Desert Fathers in my twenties, and the writings of Thomas Merton. These people lives alone, often far from the regular worship of the church any day of the week. It's challenging to those whose life has revolved around the Church's Eucharist and daily Offices of prayer in common. Monks can't do it because they fancy doing it. They belong to a community with an Abbot and a spiritual director who are essential to the discernment process. They have to feel confident a person is mentally and physically healthy before they are given permission to try hermit life. They still need practical support from the community too. The quality of the communication between them needs to be high, or else risk disaster. 

I heard someone on the radio the other say state "Just because you choose to live alone and are comfortable in your own company doesn't mean you're not interested and turning your back on the world, rather the opposite. Being alone makes space to be aware of everything that's happening out there and understand how we are all interconnected." That kind of consciousness is necessary if you are interceding for the world one way or another. Our personal prayer lists serve as a gateway to the greater reality of being 'members of one another', not just the church, but humankind. I think I have a lot to learn.

A pleasant change to have some slightly warmer sunny weather for my daily perambulations of the property. The more my mind slows down and relax, the more I can appreciate the variety as well as the limits of my new environment. How blessed I am by the jungle diversity of the garden, and the bucolic views. I am hearing the mating calls of birds probably tits and finches, but their calls aren't what a British ear is attuned to. So I have downloaded a Spanish bird identifying app on to my tablet to help me figure out what's there.

I  think I spotted a swift flying low over the arroyo next door. It seemed not to be gliding at a pace and doing aerobatics, the way they usually do. It may have been trying to locate a place where a good supply of insects could be found. Its movements looked tired. I wondered if it had flown up from Africa in nasty cold weather conditions, and just about made it. Few bees or butterflies seen so far, butterflies mostly ones resembling UK Cabbage Whites, and a solitary lemon yellow one which I nearly got a picture of. Not quick enough however, in slow down mode.

Saturday 28 March 2020

State of Alarm - Day thirteen

Not quite so cold and humid for much of today, with some sunny periods to cheer the afternoon and colour the sunset. I sent off the audio files to Dave for uploading, and then walked in silence for an hour thinking and planning ahead the kind of audio liturgies Holy Week calls for. My aim is to offer something related to the readings set for each day's Eucharist, as I would do if I was doing a Holy Week Mission in a Parish. The effort of doing so isn't often rewarded by good weekday attendances but for me is part of the entire devotional experience of walking the Way of the Cross and asking yet again, what it all means for the world today. This I love to do. 

Well, this year we can't gather for prayer and worship at any time in the week but making an on-line offering makes it possible for people to listen on demand, as it suits them, or not. A preacher has to offer God's Word, trusting the Spirit will make use of their endeavours, and do so without worrying about the consequences, neither craving feed-back, nor approval. Heaven knows what is behind the conventional 'Nice sermon, Vicar' with which priests are greeted at the door after a service. It's not like being a classroom teacher where you can reasonably ask 'Tell me, what did you learn?', though I confess I have been tempted to ask sometimes!

From news articles I've read, it's impressive to see medical scientists, engineers and technology specialists working innovatively and flat out to design and produce new ventilators, tests for the virus that will assist in triage of the workforce into immune and vulnerable people. A team at the Royal Mint in Llantrisant found a rough design of a medical visor on-line, and in 48 hours created a design of their own and got their proof of concept prototype medically approved for production. All they need now is raw material supplies, and hopefully logisticians and delivery drivers will help get the manufacturing process running soon. Britain is short of Personal Protection Equipment to meet all the needs of nurses and doctors in close quarters contact with sick patients.

It's been the worst day of the pandemic in Spain today with 832 deaths in 24 hours, the second highest covid-19 death rate in the world. In Ibiza, only sixty six cases reported so far. Numbers of infected people in the United States have jumped, nearly a fifth of the world's cases. The death rate is bound to follow, and the economy Mr Trump idolises is going to collapse. His insistence that it will be over soon and people will quickly get back to work will not be borne out by reality. Another false prophecy for a democratically elected false prophet.

The British Parliament seems to have been too casual about precautions during its recent sittings. Now the Prime Minister, several Cabinet members and more MPs have tested positive and are self-isolating. Not to mention Prince Charles, who should have set a better example, like his mother. He too is at the age of vulnerability. Putting himself at risk of never being king? Did he think of that when he was busy dispensing earnest charm. So irresponsible. How could they? What does this say about the exemplary quality of Britain's leadership and royalty? Not so much invincible ignorance as foolish arrogance, I'm afraid.

When I completed my daily walk after lunch, I played an album by Ali Farka Toure a West African master musician, whose band uses Western as well as African instruments. Quite challenging to listen to, I can't remember if or when I last did. Hypnotic, syncopated stuff. You can see how much Jazz owes to African musical roots. Stimulating stuff.



Friday 27 March 2020

State of Alarm - Day Twelve

After breakfast, a phone call from Solveig, to say my clean 'Certificado de Penales Antecendetes' had arrived in her mailbox - under a fortnight since we visited Ibiza Puerto to arrange it. This is such a relief! Later, a photo of the document arrived, to be going on with, which meant that I could email it to Laura the Safeguarding officer dealing with it, and Emma who looks after us Locums - I understand that London HQ staff are home working now. As Bishop David and Archdeacon David are both aware of this little saga, I copied the email to them as well. Within the day I had responses from them. One small issue less to be fretting over in this time of major crisis for the diocese.

Rosi called by with some domestic rubber gloves for me. She was on her way back from taking a sick and injured hedgehog to the 'Hedgehog Hospital' not far from here. I've walked past the house a few times it seems. These creatures are an endangered species on the island, many have been lost in recent years, run over by the increasing number of cars frequenting the narrow country roads. Rosi is a keen island wildlife conservationist, also busy and active in animal welfare.

She stood outside the gate wearing a mask just in case, and we chatted for a while. It seemed so bizarre. As she left, drops of rain fell. In minutes the ground was covered with a layer of hailstones! It's that time of year. Still lots of cold air around.

After daily exercise, I recorded the pieces of my sermon and stitched them together with the audio files Sarah recorded using Audacity on the office PC. The entire Ministry of the Word was half an hour's length, ten minutes longer than usual, but the MP3 file size was just under the website limit. The Ministry of the Sacrament was under twenty minutes, and needed additional edits to include the Passiontide variable parts. All was read ready to send off tomorrow before sunset this week.

While I was working, the PC started to give off a loud noise, not through speakers but from the cooling fan, which came on for no reason I can think of. Audacity is rarely processor intensive, and only when there's some demanding activity like gaming does one ever hear the fan. It this a Windows system update glitch I wonder? Or some hidden process running otherwise undetected? Next time it happens I need to inspect what processes are actually running at the time.

I've been listening to Cuban music today for a change, during my walk. It's very danceable, so some of my steps were a little salsa-ish. Glad to have such a variety of music on the SD card in my phone. Another busy day, nodding off already by bed time, but such a cold damp night. The dehumidifier is
as essential as a heater in this climate, all year round, it seems.

Thursday 26 March 2020

State of Alarm - Day Eleven

Another day in seclusion. My self-introductory video is now on the Chaplaincy website. Dave also reminded me that an article from me for the Chaplaincy monthly magazine is due, so I had to set about writing that straight away. Thankfully, it came together fairly easily. Thankfully, I haven't hit writer's block yet! It took up a slice of the day. There were showers again on and off, but I managed my 10k walk in bits and pieces, even if I did end up walking in the dark just after sunset.

Churchwarden Jayne WhatsApped me this morning and kindly asked if she could get me some shopping. This was very timely, as I have decided to self isolate properly, so I sent her a list, and in the afternoon she delivered a box of groceries to the gate, including a net of huge deliciously juicy oranges. That'll set me up for the best part of a week. Heavens, I now that I can't just potter up the road every day to shop for myself, have to plan ahead for what I need, breaking the habit of many years fending for myself on locum trips. Will this do me good? We'll see.

The weather remains cold and mostly cloudy, and remaining physically active with lots of layers of clothes on is the only way of avoiding the shivers. Sarah sent me this pertinent quote

From another time of national crisis three years before I was born, yet the things he is hoping will come out of it, to my mind, resonate with the need today to regain much of what we have lost with the decline of religious values and family life. 'An enemy has done this', is it says in Jesus' Parable of the Wheat and Tares.

I thought my draft of a Sunday sermon was a bit long, considering also the length of the Valley of dry bones reading from Ezekiel and the forty four verses of the John's Gospel reading of the raising of Lazarus, but there were vital things to speak about in these terrible times. So I decided to deliver it in two halves, one after each reading, and asked Sarah if she'd be willing to read and record these on her phone and email them to me, to edit into the audio address I'll record and edit tomorrow. This was a 'first' for both of us. I wonder who else we can get to contribute to readings this way? 

In the afternoon, I heard the sound of a tractor out on the road, unexpected in this time of movement restrictions, though we are a bit off the beaten track here. Then I heard the machine at work nearby and when looked across the road to the finca where there were bonfires the other night, I realised it had been ploughing the field next to the orchard, breaking up the hardened soul, ploughing back into the ground all the surface vegetation, loosening the surface to make it more rain absorbent. Heavy rain in Spain leads to terrible soil erosion and even flooding if the water just bounces off hardened ground. So as well as clearing away dead vegetation and brushwood, breaking up the ground surface is essential springtime maintenance for farmers.

During a brighter spell in the day's weather, I made another little camera phone video of my walk around the house in daylight to send to the family, so that they can see how fortunate I am not to be penned up in an urban apartment, like Roy in Alicante, or me if I'd been in Malaga, hit very hard by covid-19. Numbers there, with an urban population of a million are up in their thousands. Here it's only just over fifty. So far.

Wednesday 25 March 2020

State of Alarm - Lady Day

Well, the feast of the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin Mary or Lady Day as it was known in the old British civil calendar, one of the four Quarter Days of the year on which rent is normally due for those who pay four times a year. It's one of the twelve great feasts of the world church calendar, so merits a mention under lock-down even if it cannot be observed with a celebration in the usual way. Thank heavens for Morning and Evening Prayer. 

The Catholic Bishop of Portsmouth was on BBC Radio Four's Thought for the Day this morning, reflecting on Mary's readiness to accept whatever God asked of her, and suggesting so should we in this time of plague. Although TFTD is often based on ideas and reflections taken from scripture, it's often done so without direct reference to God, just in case the Secular Society uses it as leverage to get rid of Thought for the Day anyway.

A cold, wet and overcast day, but busy too with supportive phone calls and messages. Rosi sent me the Ibiza Vice Consul's email address, so that I could write to her personally, just in case my message left on the website last night got filtered out, regarded as cranky by a desk officer who didn't understand its intention, or a badly trained A.I. program. I had a positive, friendly response from her, and a promise to pass on my offer of telephone pastoral support should the occasion arise in her work zone. I'm glad that Owain prompted me to make the effort to contact the Consulate.

As it was raining, I did the first hour of my afternoon walk back and forth through the downstairs flat on to the covered front patio and back porch. The rain stopped and I completed the second hour on the usual circuit around the outside of the house. I started thinking about making use of the phone's video capabilities, something I have done very little. Just for fun I videoed the walking course I was taking and talked through it, to see what the quality was like. The result was pleasing, albeit rough. I uploaded it to YouTube via my Chromebook later, and sent the link to family members, for interest.

It then occurred to me that I could record a self-introductory video message for the chaplaincy website, and set about doing that, after spending two more hours on the phone to family and friends. It's not so easy talking straight to camera continuously like that, as I had to, with no means of editing footage. It's probably forty years since I last had to do that for a televised broadcast service after the St Pauls riots - the last major social crisis I was witness to. Forty years ago already? Yes, in just over a week's time. It doesn't seem possible.
 

Tuesday 24 March 2020

State of Alam - Day Nine

Spanish numbers of coronavirus infections and deaths continue to mount, and the State of Alarm now extends to 12th April, Easter Day. Britain is talking about a three month stretch for its new set of restrictions. So far. My dear friend Roy is sequestered in a high rise apartment in Alicante for the duration. He came out to Spain for a Lenten time of retreat and reflection and has got more than he bargained for, but is finding the enforced isolation and solitude gives him time to work on himself.

This morning we exchanged emails about the concept of the 'dark night of the soul' in the writing of St John of the Cross. Born a Catholic, he lived as a contemplative friar during the sixteenth century Renaissance. His mystical poetry and writings appeal to people across the divide the Reformation caused in the church. Now in another time of upheaval and crisis St John's writings have a special kind of resonance with our experience of having everything that sustains our identity and purpose in life stripped away, leaving us exposed and vulnerable before the divine darkness. It's good to have someone around who wants to talk about these things and learn more. 

After twenty years of distinguished service in medical ethics and transplant advocacy, probably more pastoral than promotional or political, he's thinking about the rest of his life's journey. So am I too, even though my life is drawing to its natural end, I don't at all feel like it's nearly time to say 'mission accomplished' and bow out. The time I have may be much shorter than hoped for, so the quality of whatever I have left to do on earth matters to me more than ever. 

Perhaps that's why I've been driven to write so much this past year, transcribing old journals of missionary adventures which I've not looked at since I wrote them, not knowing who will ever read them, but doing to because I wanted to remember my life before blogging and what I learned that shaped the experience I now have behind me when I think and write. I journalled intermittently for fifty five years, so it's great to re-awaken old memories, though all of that is on hold for now, except that I have brought my earliest travel journal with me to decipher and digitize from our 1967 back packing holiday in Greece the year before I went to theological college.

Roy has discovered the work of American Old Testament scholar Walter Bruggeman and sent me some video clips of him interviewing and teaching. It's excellent stuff, on the prophetic imagination as expressed in the poetic writings of Isaiah. Archbishop Barry was fond of quoting his books, but I never got around to reading them. Funnily enough, ideas he expresses seem more than familiar to me, although more profound and wise, his idea of the prophets as poets of the Word is one I adopted and learned to apply in biblical interpretation a long time ago. 

In the Epistle of James, the Greek for 'doers of the Word' can also be rendered as  'poets of the Word' - I remember that being said by Bishop Freddy Temple in my St Paul's Bristol days forty years ago. He was an early adopter among of quoting the poetry of R S Thomas in sermons. I could do with having my volume of his collected poems with me here now, to savour in solitude.

Maaret called by with a nice big extra pullover for me, as I certainly didn't bring enough winter stuff and windy overcast days are pretty chilly. She also collected six eight litre plastic containers to take with her and return full of fresh filtered drinking water. I am so grateful to her for doing this for me, as I didn't get a chance to be shown how to do this by someone with me, and all that is made so much more difficult to cope with by the State of Alarm which forbids people to associate or work collaboratively at close quarters. Such a relief. That's three weeks worth of drinking water, at least!

Tonight I left a message on the UK consular website in Ibiza to say that despite the vacancy for a chaplain, there is a resident locum priest offering telephone pastoral counselling to anyone who asks who may not know about the chaplaincy website - including hard pressed staff members. These days, British consulates tend to keep churches at arms length, due to the secular neutrality which life in culturally plural Britain requires. Policy forgets however that the CofE is still a Protestant Church established by Law. On this the British state isn't yet entirely neutral, even if the status of the CofE is an embarrassing topic of debate - just like the Queen really. Long live both anyway! It seemed to me like a useful ides. You never know what will come up as a result! 

I don't know where this evening went, apart from lots of messaging and phone calls as usual. Time just seems to slip by so rapidly. As life does in old age too. It must to also for the tens of thousands of medics fighting to save people's lives and working around the clock without respite. It may seem to pass slowly, but it's when you look at the clock that the truth dawns how long the battle has been going on and how rapidly the picture changes.
 

Monday 23 March 2020

State of alarm - Day eight

Two hours worth of morning, after domestic tasks, were taken up with WhatsApp calls today. One from Clare before she went out for an early walk in Llandaff Fields to see if it was less crowded and safer, then another to report back after. Fortunately the weather there is bright and clear. Here it is cloudy and changeable, not yet warm enough to make life comfortable. I didn't bring enough winter woollies with me, and get by wearing lots of layers indoors and outside.

Then at noon, I plucked courage and drove to St Josep to get food from Hiper Centro, a bigger supermarket than Es Cuco, with a wider range of domestic items available. About two kilometres away from the town. I saw two police motorbikes in my rear mirror. My speed was correct for the road but I wondered if they'd pull me over and quiz me. Around the next bend there was a big lorry going slow with an extension arm on the back, fitted with a grass mower. There was an unbroken white line, so I slowed to the pace of the mower. Then one of the police bikers overtook me, and signalled me to follow him. So I got escorted safely to the open road ahead!

At the supermarket, almost everyone staff and shoppers was wearing mascarillas, which I thought were in short supply! I wouldn't know where to start looking. I felt a bit of a pariah. Shoppers were ordered to take a couple of  sturdy plastic veg bags to wear on their hands as they went around, if they didn't arrive with their own surgical gloves. I was able to buy everything I needed, including some liquid soap for clothes handwashing. 

Unfortunately this precipitated a little disaster because the cap wasn't tightly screwed on, so some of the soap leaked out on to my shopping, causing chaos and embarrassment at the checkout. I was very impressed with the calm and relaxed way the woman on checkout dealt with this. I must admit that going out shopping certainly raises my anxiety levels to the roof, worrying if did enough to minimise the possibility of getting infected without error. It's a different take on 'mindfulness'.

I bought some chicken, and cooked it as soon as I'd finished cleaning up the soapy mess. It goes in the chiller for use in days to come. I had a chick pea and vegetable think planned for lunch with cabbage and potato as well. Since I arrived I have looked after myself well, and not missed meals. It has taken me quite a while however to realise that I am not quite eating as much as I need in this cooler weather. It's probably my state of nerves as well.  So I am making an effort to eat more. For breakfast, I cooked up a porridge with arroz redondo and oats mixed as an experiment, and was quite pleased with the result. It kept me going nicely until I got around to eating lunch at three.

After my daily round of circuitous walking, saying hello to garden lizards. There are two couples I see regularly, in the same locations, more just outside the gate and some I probably never get close enough to notice. Given the proximity of the arroyo, I expected there to be more birds. I have yet to distinguish more than half a dozen different calls, day and night.

I meant to get started earlier in the day on writing, recording and editing tomorrow's bible study to send to Dave for upload. With a couple of hours spent on WhatsApp to Clare and to a frantically worried Kath, trying to sort out an emergency flight for me after today's Foreign Office Advisory. It was aimed either at holiday makers still abroad or people working or just out of work, who would need to return home to take advantage of the government's crisis support for loss of income. Being on a pension that doesn't apply to me anyway. 

We spent an hour jumping through the digital hoops to do with flight booking, only to be taken back to a help line that had already closed. While we spoke Boris Johnson announced the UK's version of lock-down. Not as strict at the EU equivalents, so I expect Britain will pay dearly for that. In the end she had to admit that there was no alternative but to stay put to be as safe as possible.

So I started writing and the recording the bible study at ten, and thankfully, it came easily, but it was nevertheless one o-clock when I emailed the finished product to Dave and went to bed. Having neglected to move a space heater into the chaplain's study, where I only work if I need to, I got cold without noticing, as I was concentrating so hard on the task in hand. It took me ages to warm up in bed. Service me right. Again without Clare here to nudge me in the right direction, I need to take care not to neglect myself. Something to do with mindfulness? Good at focusing, but do so much too narrowly when all round vigilance works best.


Sunday 22 March 2020

State of Alarm - Mothering Sunday

All over the world clerics like myself have been working to produce digital versions of what they were planning to offer to live congregations. Mine is just fairly basic audio and text. Some people are live streaming via a Facebook app, others have put quite sophisticated videos of Sunday worship on-line, in YouTube, Vimeo or some other streaming source. For me, without an editing suite I can work with, that's a bit out of range, which is a pity, but I have time to find out what I can produce video-wise, with two excellent video capable cameras with me. All, I need is enough time to create rehearse, record and edit. And I do tend to run out of time here strange to say.

I watched and prayed along with the Communion service produced by Fr Paul Strudwick over in Menorca, the opposite side of Mallorca from Ibiza. It was nicely put together with the sermon recorded over a couple of locations, married to an audio file of the service accompanied by text slides, with video recordings of hymns spliced in. All smoothly and neatly done, with a couple of voices other than his own. That's not easy here, with a scattered congregation and a movement ban in place. Maybe I can figure something out in due course.

Clare called after breakfast and we talked for nearly an hour, then it was time for us both to join in the Eucharist from St John's Canton, and see familiar ministerial faces. It was live streamed via Facebook, but the link to the page from the publicity circulated didn't deliver. It took ten minutes to find it, by which time Mother Frances was reading the Gospel and Father Rhys preached. The app broke a couple of times, and needed re-starting, but fortunately a recording of it stayed available afterwards and I was able to catch up on the part of the homily that I missed. This service too was nicely done. Just the two of them on the altar, with a third person operating the camera (or phone or tablet). I recognised Andrew's voice, making the responses and singing from behind the lens. 

For today's walk-around, I first listened first to Catrin Ffinch playing the Bach Goldberg Variations on her harp, then later a collection of live songs recorded by Frank Sinatra with a big band. Real feel good music.  Clare called just as the internet died for half an hour. It took three attempts to get it to start again by switching the house electricity on and off. It was worrying as the house landline number is also used by an internet phone rather than a hard-wired network. 

I called Clare on my own mobile with WhatsApp on 4g, to explain what had happened. She too was bothered as there could be critical moments when I'd be incommunicado via the preferred church communications channels. So I rang Dave on the church mobile to ask if my personal mobile number could be distributed, just in case anyone had trouble getting through. The problem with the church mobile is that it's old and the battery life is now quite short. It spends as much time charging as it does  being ready for use. It'll be better if people have my number as a fall back if needed. In such unprecedented crisis times things need thinking through at every turn.

This evening the church office computer has decided on installing the Windows 10 v1909 system upgrade, so that's unusable for the rest of the day. And it slows down internet access for every other device too. Never mind. There are other things to do. Yesterday afternoon and again today, lizards came out in the sun and could be seen running along the low perimeter walls. Eventually I got used to snapping photos without disturbing them, and am pleased with the outcome. I got them edited and uploaded once the internet was back. You can see them here

Saturday 21 March 2020

State of alarm - Day six

I didn't need to go to the shops for anything today. I'll wait until Money and go to San Jose and check with the chemist what needs to be done to obtain medication when the tablets I brought with me run out. I'll have to buy them, if they'll let me have them. I may be able to obtain a prescription by email from King's Road surgery if this is a prerequisite. And I will have to pay. Goodness knows how much.

Counting the number of turns around the house for my daily walk gets mind numbing after a while, so I decided to play music off my phone SD card instead. I have 1.6gb of music MP3s on it, and so don;t need an internet connection to listen to music out of wi-fi range. I have all of Mozart's piano concertos there, rendered digitally from a set of tapes a keen audiophile made for me early in my time working for USPG. The tapes got much playing while I was driving to parish appointments all over Wales. Most of them are half an hour long. Four is sufficient to hear during the two hours it takes to cover my daily 10k target. It makes exercise refreshing quite a different way.   

This evening, I joined in the British ecumenical call to prayer about the pandemic, in which all who can are invited place a lighted candle in a window while they pray. As I did so, I saw, in the field the other side of the road that someone had lit a large bonfire and was piling branches on to it causing the flames to go high. Then I noticed a second fire further away, and wondered what was going on. 

I was somewhat concerned as the church car is parked on a patch of bare land opposite the house used for car parking, and wondered if I should move it, just in case it got out of control. Silhouetted against the flames however, I could see three men working in the dark, and one of them had a hosepipe and was spraying water around the fire. Tree and hedgerow pruning has been going on quietly over the road, and now dead vegetation and branches are being disposed of. 

On recent walks by day before the lock-down I noticed people outdoors working on their fincas. Some. if not many, would already have stopped work and were taking advantage of unexpected free time to tidy their land. When Sarah rang me later, I asked her about this and she said this was the natural time of year to do this. Fires are officially banned in the height of summer because so much of the early uncleared vegetation has died and dried out.

Friday 20 March 2020

State of Alarm - Day five

After prayers and breakfast, I set to work on producing audio recordings of this Sunday's service and sermon for upload to ibizachurch.org. It's a real test of the quality of my attention to detail and concentration on doing fiddly things anyway. I had intended to drive up to the recycling bins just down the road from the Es Cuco supermarket and do a small grocery shop there before lunch, but I ran out of time. I felt that I earned my lunch and needed it more. 

I don't really have a good source of local up to date information about which shops are open and when. It's all a bit pot luck. Also I'm not sure if there are polices road blocks checking people's purposes for being out and about, as there are all over mainland Spain, restricting unnecessary people and vehicle movement. The government is stamping down on people leaving their cities and going to hunker down in their holiday homes, trying to prevent infection spread to places with lower population density out of season. In the UK appeals have been issued to people with holiday homes in North Wales to stay put and not travel, but how far this is being heeded I have yet to hear.

I gather from my Spanish news-feed that over thirty thousand people have been caught and fined for being out and about with no good reason. Stories of multiple repeat offenders make the news too! On BBC news, one pundit commented that Spain was now in effect under martial law, and posed the rhetorical question of whether UK citizens would put up with this. Wait and see, I thought. 

As of late yesterday, there were 11,302 deaths and 272,068 cases of infection world wide, according to the Worldometer website. 90,618 have recovered and 170,148 were ill, with many fighting for their lives. Spain has 20,412 cases with 1,050 deaths, compared to the UK's 3,983 infections and 177 deaths. It's no wonder Spain has taken draconian measures to curb the movement of people and social interactions. Britain is staring to do it now, but the exponential rise of infections in Spain is two weeks ahead of UK. The State of Alarm measures here, with hindsight after the crisis abates, may prove to have come too late to make a strategic difference. Likewise the as UK now ramps up its measures, it may realise an earlier start would have been a wiser decision. 

Italy now has more cases and deaths than the whole of China, with 47,021 cases and a horrendous 4,032 deaths, twenty percent more cases for a population that's a fraction of China's. The bare statistic says it all - China 56 cases per million of population, Italy 778 cases per million. Italians have a reputation for being convivial and anarchic, with a long history of volatility in government, 61 of them in 75 years. It's amazing the country has modernised and developed as well as it has. Strong and coherent leadership doesn't necessarily mean dictatorship, but many Italians must now realise the fatal consequences of not having people at the helm with enough foresight and resolve to enforce naturally unpopular measures. The consequences are far-reaching for any democracy.

I walked my 10k per day around the house perimeter again this afternoon, with stops for tea and messaging. Finally, after six I made myself get in the car and take the stuff for recycling up to the depository, just two hundred metres from Es Cuco. The shop was open and stocked, which was very reassuring. Two tills were working, to minimise the need to queue for the thin stream of customers at any time. One cashier wore a mask, but not the one who served me, thought she did wear gloves.

It's funny this fear of infection/contamination. It makes you think about every action. What if the banknote given in change is infected? If I use a card, what about the keypad? Until now I resisted contactless payment, and don't even know if my card's capacity for this will work as I have never used it before. I sanitized myself obsessively when I got back to the house, regretting I'd forgotten to take my little pink bottle with me. Shopping is my only social contact. It makes me feel nervous, even though the risk here is low compared to anywhere else in Spain.  It's the information you don't have that can worrying you most.

Thursday 19 March 2020

State of Alarm - day four

The fiesta of St Joseph the Worker today, if there had been any celebrations across Spain. Numbers of deaths and infected persons continues to mount, despite all the strict measures being taken. The weather has been a little milder today, sometimes cloudy, although the clouds are on the move and better weather is promised over the weekend, but that's not going to impact upon the course of this pandemic sadly. 

Talk around the world is about how to stave off the possibility of another global recession, of the holiday industry, public entertainment and more airlines going bankrupt. Normal patterns of work and consumption are being disrupted, cutting vital income to pay employees, not to mention rent, and taxes. In a globalised world reliant on stable communications and digital cash-flow, everything is suddenly volatile. Europe is now the worst infected region of the planet. It's hard to be optimistic, even when so many people are being bravely stoical about getting through this. Return to the kind of normality we're used to could take a long while, or even not happen at all.

In his doom laden yet hope filled first Epistle to the Thessalonians Paul uses the phrase 'The Day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.' in relation to the crisis prone times he lived through. It was a phrase denoting divine judgement at the end of the world, when all will be held accountable for their actions and inaction in this life, for good and for ill. It would be tantamount the blasphemy to blame God for our present crisis. It is hugely complex but entirely man-made. Our sins against the environment and against own own higher moral nature are exposing our collective failing and sin. We are being called already to think hard about the kind of future we really want and need as a human species which has already had such a profound negative impact on our earthly home. It a sobering thought. We have so much, we stand to lose so much, perhaps everything, if we survive this pandemic.

From Alicante, Roy sent me a remarkable text by American Franciscan Fr Richard Rohr, reflecting on this pandemic and the impact on us of the human loss of life it entails. Very suitable reading for Lent and Passiontide  You can find it here. 

Overnight I soaked 500g of chick peas and was surprised and pleased at how little cooking time they needed this morning. Four fifths of them are set aside to be added to future dishes, one fifth I turned into a tasty hummous, nice and easy. I also followed a recommendation to make a mug of tea using only one whole chopped up lemon, steeped in hot water. There are so many on the tree outside the front door that would otherwise fall and not get used. It tasted delicious, even without sugar, such is the quality of the fruit.

I finished editing my Sunday sermon, but didn't get around to recording it today. That has priority tomorrow. It's amazing how much time gets absorbed with WhatsApp messaging, emails and phone calls, especially as everyone is forcibly less busy because of lock-down here, or prudent precautions taken back in the UK. It sounds as if Britain may be locked down this weekend, despite government reluctance to take drastic measures other countries see as necessary. 

I did my five miles walking the perimeter of the house today. It takes some getting used to, seventy five paces per circuit. Horribly dull. I remind myself of people imprisoned, like Terry Waite and Gonville Ffrench-Breytagh who got their  daily exercise walking up and down a cell just a dozen or so paces long. It's luxury to be outdoors with greenery. The lizards were out on the wall of the raised flower bed, scampering into the undergrowth every time I passed. It took me ages to work out how I could get pictures of them in full view out in the sun, but I was pleased with the resulting photos


Wednesday 18 March 2020

State of Alarm - day three

Another day of quiet roads, the occasional car, the occasional dog walker. It hasn't rained like it did the previous two days, light and intermittent. but clouds are slowly, and it seems like reluctantly clearing from the sky. I prayed, reflected, emailed and chatted with an assortment of people here and at home, especially Roy over in Alicante. I am writing material of his blog 'Redefine Religion' now, after registering myself with WordPress today.

Most of my daily quote of exercise has been walking around the outside of the house, until I found that I could step into the meadow next to off road space used by cars parking at the chaplaincy. It's about 300 metres long, full of flowers and blossoming trees - apple, almond or cherry, I may have to stay here long enough to find out. It's lovely, though easier in stout shoes than sandals.

The number of deaths and virus infected people globally continues un-halted, except China, where it has slowed right down, thanks to their containment measures. Chinese and American researchers say the are making positive progress in finding effective anti-viral compounds which can mitigate the symptoms. Making a vaccine is still a work in progress however.

Spain is heading up towards peak spread of the virus. Italy is there, with devastating consequences for not having acting earlier with urgency and forceful measure. Britain is still a couple of weeks behind. Schools are now going to close. Restrictions on movement are still rather slack, more of an advisory nature than an imposition, reliant on common sense.

I'm afraid Britain may pay dearly for this, being more than ever a polarised self indulgent society, not all appeals to reason and good-ill are going to heard, less people are co-operative, so more compliance is required at many levels. Sure, this is an opportunity for people to change, to recover lost virtues, but some will simply feel they have lost 'their freedom, their rights', because caring for others doesn't come naturally to many any longer. The coronavirus crisis is a real wake up call to change our ways.

Standing outside in the darkness, before bed, looking at the heavens on a clearish night, in the absence of street lights or the obvious glow of a nearby town, I realised how few stars I could see, compared to being out in the country or at sea years ago. Sadly so much diffused light pollution coupled with other atmospheric conditions means you can usually see only the brightest stars and planets, even on a Mediterranean island. How much capacity for awe and wonder has been lost. It's like living with a cataract on the eye. You notice if one is more developed than the other.

Tuesday 17 March 2020

State of Alarm - St Patrick's Day

Irish parades and boozy festivities all over the planet are cancelled today because of the pandemic. I thought I should walk up to Es Cuco and get in a stock of long lasting veggies, just in case the store was going to empty. Its shelves were still fairly full, however, and the meat counter busy. I bought a chicken breast, a huge butternut squash, and a green cabbage as big as your head that weighed three pounds, and looked so fresh it could have come from a field this morning. I cooked three of its outer leaves for lunch and they tasted delicious.

I was carrying a lot of weight in my rucksack, and stopped at the roundabout exit near the shop to hunt for my wallet, as I thought I might have left it in the shop. I must have looked a sight while I rummaged. I caught the attention of a Police vehicle, which swung off the roundabout and blocked the carriage way on the wrong side of the road, and summoned me to approach, but not too close. Where was going, one of the cops asked. I told him the name of the Chaplaincy house. He didn't get it the first time, but noticed the cross I was wearing and understood me the second time and sent me on my way, heaving at the full rucksack. 

Then I noticed another car pulled up on the carriageway nearby with the legend 'Sanitaria' on the side, and a man wearing a mask and gloves at the wheel. It dawned on me that the two vehicles were patrolling together. One asking questions, and the other to transport safely anyone detained and needing to be taken home or to detention because they were out and about walking when they didn't have sufficient reason (and just might be sick or infectious). 

Back at the house I looked at another web article on advice, and realised that the State of Alarm makes no provision for people needing to exercise to stay fit. I hadn't realise this yesterday when I went out. Oops! At least I didn't learn the hard way and get arrested. But I was walking in deserted places yesterday, less likely to need patrolling than the approaches to the supermarket where I was stopped this morning. Lesson learned. I was out there with reasonable purpose today, I mustn't push my luck. So, I topped up my daily exercise quota walking round and round the outside of the house. It was horribly dull. Forty times around for a mile. Having spent quite some time reading and reflecting in writing on a couple of articles Roy sent me, plus writing an article for his Redefine Christianity blog, I certainly needed to move about briskly.

A man walked past with his dog in tow, talking on his mobile phone, exercising the hound more than would be needed for it to defarcate, which is all that the State of Alarm provides for. It seems daft not to allow people to walk out in deserted places as long as they avoid close contact with others, but deserted places can quickly fill up with people needing to exercise I guess. Nothing is ordered about night curfew. It was noticeable how few cars were out compared to last week, and nobody but nobody walking in the dark. A wonderful, natural silence reigned after sunset. Apart from the cries of owls and other night birds in distant meadows.


Monday 16 March 2020

State of Alarm - day one

The Spanish lock-down to limit all non essential social activity began in earnest at eight o'clock this morning. Ibiza now has a second covid-19 case, a student who came home from the mainland. We're getting off lightly here so far. Central government is taking direct control of military and civilian security agencies under an emergency powers provisions described as a 'State of Alarm', which is a little less serious than a State of Emergency. 

The advice issued about what this means is, shall we say, a bit clearer and coherent than what UK governments has proposed so far, with 'dynamic situation' as their alibi for doing things differently from EU countries. It seems that 'take back control' brexit thinking prevails even when lives are at stake. Will Brits be justified, or will the EU states? Not that they themselves are acting at the same pace, policies are largely similar. We'll see.

A great deal of retail activity is forbidden. Schools are closed. Most churches have already stopped public services. Roads and access points can be closed to control herds of people wanting to flee or over-consume or protest at their lot presumably. Airports are still open but numbers of flights and people wanting to use them has much diminished. Restaurants and bars are closed but deliveries at home are still allowed. Sports and all other forms of public entertainment are shut down.

'Stay at home' policy amounts to avoiding un-necessary personal contact. However....

Supermarkets, petrol stations, pharmacies, medical centres, private doctors, veterinarians, telephone companies and other tech vendors, banks and surprisingly enough neighbourhood estancos that sell tobacco, stamps and bus top-up cards can remain open. All can be frequented by the public. Other businesses and industry are closed. You can visit or take care of elderly and vulnerable people, walk your pets, go to the bank. In every social interaction it's a matter of keeping your distance.

If you want to go walking, you'd better avoid public places altogether and minimise contact with others outdoors in open spaces, apart from beaches, which are banned locations. It looks like there is special provision for animal rescue and practical emergencies, but don't push your luck outdoors as a zealous security enforcer might just ask you to prove that your being or maybe repeating being in a place you're supposed to avoid has a justifiable purpose. Quite well thought through, I'd say. The important thing is to stay away from any place where there are lots of people, and if you need to keep your distance.

After breakfast, I started drafting a Mothering Sunday sermon. It's impossible not to say something about our present situation, but it is important to stay connected to the normal flow of our spiritual lives as it finds expression in the liturgical diet of scripture we use in worship. After this, I took a morning walk on deserted unmetalled back country roads, observing new leaves and blossom on trees, bushes and vines. 

After lunch I recorded the audio for tomorrow's bible study and sent it Dave for uploading to the Chaplaincy website. Then I took another walk late afternoon on another empty back road down to La Cala des Torrents. There were very few cars about and a I saw a local bus. Reduced bus services are running, but for how long is unclear. There's a substantial holiday village built above the very rocky foreshore. The sandy cove is about two hundred metres wide. I walked on the road outside the holiday village with its water park and a long row of shops all shuttered, with no sign of life. It's just like a scene from a dystopian movie in which all the people have been spirited away by aliens. It could be like this for months to come. The many holiday homes here are unoccupied. If anyone wanted to come over from the mainland, they would be unable to unless they were permanent residents returning home.

I had a surprise email this evening from my old friend Roy Thomas, asking me to look at an article he was writing. I discovered that currently he's in Alicante. He decided to go there for Lent, and I think like me has got more than he bargained for, but he is making the most of his time researching theologically and writing on re-thinking Christian faith in the twenty first century. I look forward to a stimulating exchange of ideas with him in weeks ahead. He's relatively near, but unable to travel  over to Ibiza now. Such a pity.
  

Sunday 15 March 2020

Sabbath rest in solitude

I work up early, said Morning Prayer, had breakfast and then read through the Eucharist for the day. I couldn't bear with having to hear the sound of my own voice. As it was warm and sunny, I walked straight down the road on the other side of the arroyo from the house, all the way to the foreshore, on the west side of La Cala de Bou. It's not a beach, from which, strictly speaking all people would be banned if the weather was good enough to swim sunbathe and socialise. It's bare volcanic rock, from a past eruption, gas bubbles in the once fluid lava broken open, not eroded smooth, so hard, sharp and treacherous to walk on. 

There was one other solitary figure picking his way along half a kilometre of shore in this section of bay, and a few more people out for a walk on the road. The children's playground next to the beach was empty and silent. No holiday makers in sight, not the children of residents. I get the impression it's usually pretty quiet at this time of year, but the new movement restrictions coming into force tomorrow because of the pandemic are already making the place unusually deserted.

Spain is now as hard hit as Italy and the UK is catching up. Borders are closing around the EU trains and flights cut drastically, with passenger numbers drastically reduced, threatening their business viability. The delicate fabric of global modernity is being rent asunder not by terrorism, or political bullies, but by a contagious micro-organism acting like a time bomb. I'm not going anywhere for a while, but the dark thought crosses my mind, at my time of life, will I ever see Clare and the kids again, except on WhatsApp? 

Emails keep arriving from cousins apologising for not being able to go to Lindsay's funeral in Ascot this coming Thursday. We're all of a certain age. Will we survive long enough to be reunited and hold a memorial service and a wake for him? Or will we join him, among those whose loss is being mourned? There are no answers. Politicians and experts of every ability in different countries are differing on how to deal with this in detail, if united generally. There will be a global recession, no matter how hard the financial strategists work to curb the impact. What will life be like six months from now? We cannot tell.

We're all having to learn again to live without making certain plans, just taking on step, one day at a time, keeping safe, keeping well fed. Finding out what we can do with so much down time on our hands is going to be a crisis of mind and soul for which many today are, I suspect, ill equipped. Just living so long in solitude without social contact of any kind is going to test me. As much as being laid up struggling with fear and infirmity for so long? Time will tell. 

The long solitary sojourn is an opportunity to watch with rejoicing the unfolding of springtime in minute detail this year. When the sun moved to the west of the house, I opened the window to let in fresh warm air, and the bedroom was filled with the fine aroma of spring flowers in the meadow next door. 

After lunch, a second walk of the day. Half way up the road to Es Cuco supermarket there's a sign post on a side road to Victoria Restaurant and Hotel. I decided to explore. This took me past fields with fruit trees and vines growing together to the foot of a very steep hill. On the crest of it, was the aforementioned restaurant overlooking the sea across the coastal plain 120 metres below, plus a small collection of traditional looking white buildings making up the boutique hotel reception and accommodation areas. An attractive and romantic place to hide away from the madding crowd, but with no sign of life anywhere. I suppose the cars parked there belong to staff or nearby residents. It was well worth the climb to see the view.

Lunchtime today was Rhiannon's restaurant birthday meal. I saw the photos but we didn't talk. Clare returned to Cardiff in the evening. I started work on material for the Tuesday Bible Study, which I'll record on-line tomorrow. I think both Clare and I were too tired to talk by the time she got home.
  

Saturday 14 March 2020

Digital reaching out

Last night, although tired, curiosity got the better of me and I looked into the possibility of an app for my Chromebook which would enable me to record audio. I found a simple plug-in extension that does the job nicely and saves MP3 files for podcasting. I couldn't have asked for better. So, straight away, a made a recording of my sermon and emailed it to Dave for uploading. I now have to think about what I can do, here on my own, to record the Communion service we should have been celebrating in St Rafel tomorrow.

I took quite an effort of concentration to record first the Ministry of the Word and then the Ministry of the Sacrament. I wrote a special 'Intercessions during a Pandemic' prayers to include in the latter. Then it was a matter of uploading the MP3 sound files to the Chaplaincy Website. Thankfully Dave was able to read them, but uploading was prohibited because both files were just over the prescribed limit of 25mb. They needed editing, so I installed Audacity on the Chaplaincy PC. It worked a treat, I was able not only to improve the files with unobtrusive minor trims, but also compress them to 30-40% of the size of the original produced. These were uploadable, and can be found on the Ibiza Chaplaincy website.

I was pleased with my efforts, but really needed exercise afterwards. The sun was getting low in the sky when I went out, but I did my daily mileage quota, ending the walk in darkness. After supper I chatted on WhatsApp video with the family gathered around the dining table in Kenilworth for Rhiannon's birthday, and at the same time with Rachel in her kitchen in Tempe AZ. It's the first time I have had a three way conversation in this way, and was surprised at how well the house broadband coped with it. We must do this again when the international timing fits. Meanwhile I am wondering how I'll cope with physical isolation and living with the 'expert' knowledge that I am at particular risk and vulnerable because I am more than three score years and ten.
 

Friday 13 March 2020

Lockdown in prospect.

After breakfast this morning I learned from Rosi that FEREDE, the state recognised non-Catholic inter-church agency is recommending that churches do not meet for two weeks, and that everyone self-quarantines in the meanwhile. In UK this advice is given for anyone with covid-19 symptoms or has been near someone with those symptoms. It's a double precaution against transmission from someone who is a symptom-less carrier I suppose. How it's meant to implemented is not stated. In UK the connections between isolation and vulnerability is better considered.

I spoke to Clare before she headed off by train for Rhiannon's birthday celebration in Kenilworth. She was nervous about travelling, but determined not to miss out. Owain is going too. 

So, getting a Sunday sermon published on-line is one thing. I'm not sure the house technology kit would be up to live web streaming an act of worship, assuming others were keen enough to bother to watch it on home devices. I can't say I haven't done this before, thinking back to the time when I did a Christening in Aiglon Chapel eighteen months ago, streamed over iPhone, iPad and Macbook to family in L.A. South Africa and Oz. Some how-to discussion is needed to prepare this. It would be easy enough to record a downloadable liturgy audio podcast. The decision about compliance has first to take place with the Chaplaincy Council, then I can get to work.

What a strange situation I've landed myself in! It was a big step of faith to break out of domestic confinement after 18 months doing battle with this damnable ailment, and doing so has been far more inwardly nerve wracking than I could have anticipated, especially with all the Spanish Police check hassles on top of everything. Getting that done yesterday, however, has proved to be something of a breakthrough, as I discovered when I went out shopping before lunch.

I drove to St Josep, as I know there's a supermarket there with convenient parking. It was still quite well stocked, but busy with customers with full baskets, whether due to the weekend or covid-19 is anybody's guess. I got all I needed, and then walked to the pharmacy to stock up with antiseptic in case I run low. I was delighted to find I could explain myself fully in Spanish to the charming young woman who served me. She spoke English but didn't mind me insisting on making the effort. Now I feel more grounded, and that does me good, even if the prospect of a length of time in solitary retreat with no respite is just a bit daunting.

After a good walk this afternoon. On the teatime news I heard that the Spanish Prime Minister has declared a State of Emergency. Fortunately, there's plenty of open countryside here and few people are out and about on foot, so thankfully it's possible to exercise in self isolation. Clare has now arrived without incident in Kenilworth for Rhiannon's belated birthday weekend.

This evening, I revised and finished my Sunday sermon, and attached the readings for the day to the front of it, ready to upload to the Chaplaincy website. So that's a start made.

Thursday 12 March 2020

Police checking in Ibiza Port

I drove to St Rafel this morning to rendezvous with Solveig for the trip to Ibiza town to see if it's possible to get the police check started. It's a place that's overcrowded with cars, so we parked about 3km away from the police office in Ibiza Port and walked in. On the way, we stopped for a drink at a cafe and went through the form I'd prepared. Solveig thought it would be a good idea to re-write the whole thing on an officially printed multi-sheet forumlario 790, rather than use the downloaded version. She put her mailing address into it, instead of mind, to be certain it could be posted to a Spanish address in case there was any doubt about mailing it back to Wales.

We continued down one of the main streets, stopped at a bank which happily accepted the €3.78 fee in cash, and put an official 'pagado' stamp on the application.

 the Police port office, where we found entry controlled by a couple of friendly cops who explained that the applicant hand to enter unaccompanied. Different from previously Solveig said, but the reason soon became clear. Half the number of seats for queuing applicants were empty with a label saying Do Not Use. The idea is to keep a healthy space between individuals, a precaution against covid-19 in a confined space. Sensible. I took a ticket, and only waited a couple of minutes until it was my turn. Business, I suspect, is pretty quiet at the moment.

My form was scrutinised and scanned on to the computer network for delivery to the Generalitat office in Mallorca, which I failed to reach eight days ago. My form was handed back to me with a receipt ticket stuck on it for reference. It'll be processed and a Certificado de Penales Antecedentes will be mailed to Solveig in a couple of weeks time. Then it'll come to me and I can email a copy to HQ in London. Such a relief to see the back of that job at last!

Fortunately it was a lovely sunny day. I took several photos on the return walk. You can walk or drive on to a ferry for Formentera from the quayside, not far from the Police office. The ancient citadel and old town sit on a hill to the west of the marina. There's lots more to see, but that merits a return trip. I will probably leave the car in St Antoni or St Josep and take the bus when I feel ready for a proper day trip.

I had an email from cousin Dianne to tell me that cousin Lindsay, whose wedding we attended last summer died yesterday. He'd been living with prostate cancer for a couple of years, but was defeated by it in the end. He rediscovered his cradle Anglicanism in later life, and faced his illness with deep rooted faith. Belonging to the church enabled him to meet Lynne the love of his life, and after a delightful season of friendship, they got engaged and married last August. It's very sad, but I believe both were greatly blessed by finding each other. Sadly, I am stuck here and will miss the funeral, but will pray for him and his wife as best I can. May he rest in peace.


Wednesday 11 March 2020

Real and fictional crises

It's been a warm and sunny day, around 20 degrees with no cooling breeze, so the windows have been open, warming up the house. I walked up to Es Cuco for the few things I didn't buy yesterday, then Dave came by at the end of the morning to sort out the telly. It seems the Freesat box is dying, but he's fixed the system by another route to give me a selection of channels BBC included.

Solveig rang to discuss getting a police record check locally. As Chaplaincy Safeguarding Officer, she's been successful in doing this with others in the past. We're going into Ibiza tomorrow to see if this also applies to me. 

I went for a longer afternoon walk, exploring side roads criss-crossing the terrain, linking a great many fincas with fine houses, and the occasional smallholding. When I got back, I mashed two thirds of a jar of chick peas into hummous with a lemon from the tree outside the front door and the tahini I bought yesterday. The result is quite satisfying.

I lost internet connection after supper. It happens here occasionally, and can be cured by switching off the house electricity from the mains for ten seconds, and letting everything reboot.

The last three episodes of the world's longest running radio soap opera 'The Archers' has been very interesting to follow, since there was an explosion at Grey Gables Hotel at the end Sunday night's episode, with some powerful emotional scenes. An ambitious undertaking for the scriptwriters to get right inside a major incident featuring a succession of familiar characters, all well portrayed in shock because of the crisis. I think they've done very well so far. 

No mention of covid-19 on The Archers yet! It's been declared a pandemic by the WHO now, as it's spread to so many countries. Heaven know what the final death toll will be globally. I'm out here en el campo, and have have limited contact with everyone other than the few church folk who come here for bible study, plus Dave fixing the telly. All are geared up to take precautions. It's possible to go shopping and have minimal contact with anything in the store other than what I buy. If any shop person fell sick with the virus, I guess it would soon have to shut for disinfecting. 

Even so, feeling a bit vulnerable being here on my own is inevitable, and calls for extra effort to trust in God to see me through. I'm used to being on my own both at home and away, but the past year has exposed me to a kind of vulnerability I never experienced in life before. It's been a healthy learning experience in many ways. If I have learned anything about Providence, this puts it to the test.
      

Tuesday 10 March 2020

Study day

Again I woke up early enough to see the light of the full moon shining through the shutters an hour before dawn, and then fell asleep again. After breakfast, I walked down to the Suma supermarket in La Cala de Bou to get some deodorant, and happily came away with a jar of tahini as well. It means I can make my own hummous now, with the jar of chick peas I've already started. With fresh lemon from the tree outside the front door. Wonderful!

I spent the rest of the morning and some time after lunch preparing for an early evening bible study group on Outreach in the Acts of the Apostles. Then I went for another walk and returned just before they all arrived. Seven women attended. No men. We explored scripture for an hour and then prayed for half an hour. I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did.

Afterwards, I thought I'd watch telly for a change. I haven't had time to switch it on since I've been here, there's been too many other things to do first. I got all the devices working OK, but kept on getting a 'no signal' error with no idea of how to remedy this. Whether it's a physical connectivity fault or something in the setup routine I have failed to engage with, I've no idea. No doubt someone will show me in due course.

At least I've got the computer to work, and was able to print off copies of the bible study schedule and a page of notes on Christian healing to give to the group as they left. The device is a minimalist desktop PC, linked to internet input from the huge satellite dish in the garden. It's connected to a peripherals, all of which look strange to me. They deliver signals for the telly and for the house phone, as well as internet for the computer.  It offer no temptation to tinker with. It works and does so pretty quickly, not surprisingly as the PC is a Core i7 job with 8Gb of RAM.

I work on the old Chromebook I first bought. It came back to me from Owain when I gave him a newer one. I brought this with me, rather than my newest one. It's every bit as dependable, and if it breaks or gets nicked, it's already had quite a long life for a digital device. I simply transfer files for printing on the office system via a USB stick. That suits me just fine. This is probably the most up to date office system I've used of all five of the Spanish chaplaincies I've worked in, on a par with the set up in Montreux. Generally these assets, if they work and serve their purpose, lag behind the currently accepted digital norm. Although I suppose that could all have changed in the eighteen months I have been away from locum duty. 
  

Monday 9 March 2020

Productive Monday

I woke up an hour before dawn with moonlight streaming in through the window, as the moon was just above the horizon. It was an enchanting sight, which I don't recalled experiencing before. Then I started having ideas for next Sunday's sermon, and after breakfast got busy and wrote a first draft. Then I drove to Lidl's on the outskirts of St Antoni for some food shopping. It was very busy and I had to queue for ages to pay and leave.

After lunch I worked on preparations for tomorrow evening's Bible Study here at Can Bagot. I have no idea how many will come. At lunch yesterday I picked up the idea that outreach was a subject which needs exploring. The Acts of the Apostles has been suggested for study. There's far too much in it to over in half a dozen sessions, so the challenge will be to select suitable passages that have something to say, and resist other distractions.

I took a back road down to Cala des Torrents to find a shop where I could get the deodorant, which I forgot to buy this morning, but I couldn't find a single shop open. The place seems to be a ghost town out of season. Much of the evening was spent on the phone to Owain and to Clare. At home we have a leak upstairs caused by a faulty bath tap, that now needs replacing. Clare can cope with that, but I do feel a bit guilty about not being there with her because of this.
   

Sunday 8 March 2020

Eucharist in time of pestilence

For my first trip to take a service at Sta Eulalia del Rio Anthony, who lives nearby in Cala de Bou, came and joined me and briefed me as we drove on the route, and where to find supermarkets and worthwhile restaurants to visit. The Catholic chapel of Our Lady of Lourdes is in the main street of the town, so it was necessary to find a parking space a few blocks away in the pakringlot near the town's medical centre, and walk there.

We were greeted by Rosi, with a smile and a dob of hand sanitizer. They may be no more than three Covid-19 cases reported on the island, but it's a good idea to change habits early, as long as we are not advised against meeting publicly for worship. The church must care for its own heal and that of people who reach out to it at any time. At the start of the service, Rosi introduced me and informed everyone about withholding the chalice, which I think everyone accepted with understanding.

The chapel's sound system is good but the building resonates with echoes so I had to make an effort  to speak slowly, and much closer to the microphone than I am used to at home. Well, practice makes Perfect, I hope! Unusually, there's a time of reflection and sharing by congregation members after the service. I couldn't hear very well from the sanctuary, so next time we're here in two weeks time I will have to sit with the congregation for this. It influences the timing of the service too, so I will have to be much stricter about the length of my homily in future, as we over-ran by fifteen minutes, much to the annoyance of a congregation which was following us, with another of the succession of Sunday services being held there. I spoke with the priest, who sounded more Italian than Spanish. He said he was Catholic, but the use of icons suggested an Eastern rite service. I will be interest to learn more about this.

There were about twenty worshipping together, perhaps half the usual number. It seems the local Latin rite Catholic service before us was seriously down on numbers as well. Afterwards many of the congregation went for a fellowship drink together in a main street bar. Then a smaller group of us drove out of town to the finca in the countryside a few kilometres away, where Sarah lives and was laying on a super Sunday roast lunch for us. A most enjoyable experience accompanied by some lively conversation.

The renovated old farmhouse where she lives is surrounded by vineyards. The soil is a pinkish brown colour, and vine stocks hug the ground. I'd be fascinated to learn what grapes are grown here. Ibiza has grown vines and made wine since the time of the Phoenicians. The vines belong to her nearest neighbour. Sarah has her own fruit trees, a tank holding ornamental carp, some hens and ducks supplying eggs, with flowers everywhere. It's a lovely place to live.

We drove back to Can Bagot late afternoon, and after uploading my photos of the day, it went for a walk as the sun was setting, with the nearly full moon rising above the horizon. A couple of quite different bird calls issued from across the fields and woodland flanking the un-metalled road road on which I walked. No idea what they were. I guess I'll find out eventually. Clare and I chatted for an hour on WhatsApp after I returned to the house. It seems that congregational numbers were down back home at St Catherine's and Sunday School didn't happen. They observed the same precautions as we did. Everyone is keeping an eye on the increasing number of cases across the world, and the word 'pandemic' is now being used in some quarters.

A good day, but it's left me tired enough for an early bed time.
 

Saturday 7 March 2020

Strict measures

This morning I drove out the San Rafel to attend the nine o'clock prayer prayer meeting, led by Sarah. It was my first time to navigate my way to the church since Sarah took me there to show me on Wednesday before going to the house, and I was only a few minutes late finding my way there. It was nicely structured around the Common Worship Office of Morning Prayer with almost an hour's detailed intercession list for the chaplaincy's people and ministry, the diocese and the wider world. Time well spent in my opinion.

The village church, dedicated to the healing angel at the crossroads (as in the deutero-canonical book of Tobias) holds about a hundred and fifty people, and has a fair sized porch area outside where open air activities can be held in a sheltered open air space. Simple but effective social design. Afterwards the six of us went to the bar/restaurant in the main street for coffee and bread covered with tomato pulp and olive oil, the standard Spanish breakfast snack. We chatted for an hour then went our separate ways.

I'm getting into the habit now of cooking for lunch every other day, enough for two, as I would at home. I don't mind the repetition, and sometimes add extras second time around. Then I went for a walk along the Cala Bassa road, just to look at the landscape, although I didn't go all the way there as I didn't want to over reach myself. On the way back I stopped as Es Cuco, to buy some chicken, breast which I fancied for a change, and cooked it when I got back. That will do me several meals I suspect.

Clare called me while I was at the shop, and we talked while I was walking and then at home for over an hour on WhatsApp. Before early bed, I have to prepare for tomorrow. Instructions about communion and the coronavirus have just been issued by the diocese in Europe, banning intinction so what we thought we'd do tomorrow must now change. The Church in Wales instructions are just as strict. The CofE instruction allow a little discretion for people in unaffected areas, I suppose. European chaplaincies are on the front line. Genoa chaplaincy, I understand, has stopped meeting  and is video streaming worship to member's digital devices instead. I hope it doesn't come to that everywhere. I quite like the idea of using the international deaf sign language greeting of peace as social physical contact is now discouraged if not banned. How many outgoing people will forget, I wonder?
 

Friday 6 March 2020

Precautions

What a windy day today was!

Even so, I walked up to Es Cuco, and then downhill from there to Cala des Torrentes, another built up resort with an even better beach and La Cala de Bou, half an hour's walk from the house instead of three quarters of an hour.

After lunch I took the car out for an hour and a half's drive, visiting St Antoni and St Josep. Over the past eighteen months since I was last out of the UK I have driven very little, and was pleased to find that I had no difficulty in adjusting to driving on the opposite side of the road. It's a boost to confidence, that's for sure.

English and Welsh Bishops have issued a directive to with-hold offering the chalice to the laity as a precaution against the Coronavirus epidemic. Communion by intinction has also been discouraged I've been discussing with Churchwarden Rosi what this means for services in Ibiza, which thus far is infection free. Some recognition of the need to take precautions is highly desirable. Recouncing  the physical sharing of the peace is one step. Rigorous and visible hand-washing is another. With-holding the chalice is yet another gesture, but what is under discussion is adopting intinction as a universal practice, for the time being. The choreography isn't easy, but we can learn by doing.

As the sun was setting, I went out for another walk along a neighbouring unmetalled road through the urbanizacion, just to stretch my legs, now that Wednesdays' fall injury is improving, exercise seems to be beneficial, more than rest as there's nothing torn. Another large area of land adjacent to agricultural land rich with wild flowers a this time of year is taken up with very suburban looking  properties, whether holiday homes or dwellings for local people it's hard to tell.


Thursday 5 March 2020

Finding my feet

I'm still learning and absorbing all that I need to know about ministry in this new setting, where two Catholic churches offer hospitality to Ibiza Anglicans, and also the Chaplain's residence and other member's homes are used for worship and fellowship.. I was told at the outset that much car driving would be necessary. That's not unusual in this diocese. There's a Fiat Doble chaplaincy car parked outside for me to use but I'll not attempt to use it until I feel settle and grounded in this new setting. Getting to know the landscape by walking some distances first I find helpful.

Churchwarden Rosi came to see me this morning and gave me an extended briefing about the house and how things work generally. The house water supply is from an artesian well just outside the finca, shared with a neighbour. Water is pumped into a house cistern which takes weeks to empty and then has to be refilled. I know how it's done now. I hope I can remember when it's actually needed. Such as lot more to take in, plus worship plans to think about for the next two months. Slowly, it'll all fit together.

After lunch, I walked along the back road over the other side the ravine behind the chaplaincy house down to the coast. It passes through a pleasant stretch of pine woodland, carpeted with winter grass, past a smallholding keeping chickens, Muscovy ducks, pigeons for their eggs, with a guinea fowl and a peacock, for whatever purpose. This leads to a long road of suburban houses down to the edge of a denser built up area of holiday apartment blocks and resort hotels.

La Cala des Bou is a cove overlooking San Antoni Bay, accessed by a narrow lane at the end of a one way street off the main road. It's built up with apartments and hotels on both sides, and the beach is of fine sand. At this time of year it's covered with organic matter, leaves and seaweed washed in by the sea, and looks a bit deserted and neglected at this time of year.

Internet access died on me in afternoon. As it's delivered via a satellite dish in the front garden, it's cureable by throwing the main power switch for a few seconds, Rosie told me earlier. I tried this and it worked. Later, Clare and I talked on WhatsApp, thanks to wi-fi. The quality is fairly good. If it drops out, it's not necessarily due to the internet connection either end, but some relay in between.
   
  

Wednesday 4 March 2020

Coming to Ibiza

Awake at seven, breakfasting at eight, out of the Dalt Murailla hotel by ten past nine. I walked down past the Palau Real de Almudaina to the Avenida d'Antoni Maura at shore level, intending to walk part of the way or pick up a bus or taxi to the Estacion Maritimo. Then the unexpected happened.

On a short stretch of curved slope which was covered with a thin invisible coating of something slippery which wasn't water, I went into an uncontrollable slide and ended up slowly, thankfully on the ground. One of my left quad muscles popped, but didn't tear, and I didn't twist my knee. Two kind gents picked me up and gingerly I walked away, but only fifty metres as I reached the nearest taxi rank. This put an end to my ambition to get some early exercise. Better safe than sorry, until I'm sure no damage has been done. A year of relentless daily walking added to body memory from ski slithers paid off in terms of muscle control and joint strength. For anyone my age not used to walking a lot it could have been disastrous.

The taxi dropped me at the Mediterraneo terminal. I escaped a long confusing walk, ending with the search for pedestrian access route! I was horrified to find the slower cheaper ship runs tomorrow not today. I must have read the web info incorrectly. Or was it a matter of leaving a day early, then not noticing the difference in sailing dates and times? The desk clerk sent me to the neighbouring Balearica terminal 200m away. I knew they do a daily sailing, but would I be in time to book a ticket? Yes, at 09.45, just.

The transfer coach arrived at 10.10 and took us on a circuitous route to the quayside where at 11.15 we left port. What a treat! A very modern 'greener' ferry running on LPG, with a giant gas fuel tank at the stern end of the ship behind the exhaust funnel - can't call it a smoke stack in these days of running on smokeless LPG. I can't imagine an entirely electrically driven ship though I can imagine reverting to sail-ships delivering mechanical power to batteries supplying electric motors, with the blades / paddles made of photo-voltaic cells. Complex to manage, costly to make but zero carbon foot-print on vessels ten, twenty times the size of an antique tea clipper. I bet solutions of this kind are already dreams being turned into reality, even if it takes a few years to see the light of day.

Anyway, a very pleasant clean and bright ferry with a deck of cabins and a couple of decks with comfy reclining seats, not to mention restaurants and bars, plus a couple of open deck areas of smokers and sun worshippers. I thought the crossing would be two hours, as that was what I found on internet booking sites, but it turned out to be three. There was easy access wifi, fifteen minutes for free and then pay as you go for business users. Interestingly, access to WhatsApp was free and available, so long as there was enough bandwidth. I think WhatsApp must get used pretty widely in this region. People involved in the Ibiza Chaplaincy also network with each other using WhatsApp. 

Cell-phone connectivity weakens away from shore in any case, so the entire ship's internet access is reliant on its direct satellite link, which has its data-flow limits with dozens of extra users on board, all presuming they can use on-line services ad-lib as usual on board, in addition to proper normal usage for ship's management purposes. On land or at sea there's never enough data capacity, so it seems. All this accounts for flaky connections, stuff that sometimes works and sometimes doesn't, and for messages which normally take second to transmit taking hours instead. Everything sits in a digital queue somewhere or another, God knows where. No short cuts.Just like the NHS really.

The ship seemed to get slower and slower as we cruised down the coast well before hitting eight knots for entering port to dock. It seemed that us few foot passengers were kept waiting an age to retrieve our luggage, and then had a quarter of a mile walk to the arrivals terminal, dragging cases. I could see Sarah out in the car park far away, walking into the terminal as I reached it from the other side. Within minutes, we were on our way out of Eizibissa town (the Catalan for Ibiza) north-west in the direction of Sant Antoni de Portmani. The chaplaincy house is located in an urbanzacion not far from the seaside town of La Cala de Bou. The Chaplaincy house is named Can Bou, which name as puzzled me for weeks, but now it can be revealed - the missing apostrophe on the maps.

In Catalan its Ca'n Bou i.e. Casa en Bou. I've seen this apostrophic contraction in written Catalan before, but forgotten about it until now. How nice to clear up a little mystery! The house is located out en el campo, it's a rural housing estate, heaven knows how big. The house has a basement level which I think is for community use, with Chaplain's accommodation above it, a blue shuttered casa blanca in meadow full of flowers by a wooded arroyo. The fridge and larder have been stocked and there was a meal ready for me to warm up later, thanks to Sarah. 

A workman was re-tiling the front steps as I arrived. As on several other very different occasions in the past few days I've had the confidence to chat in Spanish. I feel I really have reached a turning point, thanks to many hours spent on the Duo Lingo app daily during my long months of idleness. 

Once I'd unpacked and sorted myself out, I walked to the nearest shop named Es Cuco a kilometre away, on the hill above the road down into La Cala de Bou. It's a very well stocked food store, with fresh fruit and veg, bread, meat and wine, as well as the usual tinned foods. I was very impressed, and bought a few extra fresh items and some wine while I was there.

When I returned the gate to the finca was shut, and I presumed was locked by the workman when he left. In the absence of key, I climbed over the fence to reach the house. Only later did I learn that the gate was just jammed shut! After sunset, I felt I needed to stretch my legs again, and spent half an hour walking in the moonlight along un-metalled roads linking neighbouring fincas. The moon isn't full, but in the absence of artificial light away from towns and main roads, it shed enough light to cast a shadow. It was delightful magic!

Just after I got back, Ashley rang me, and it was a real pleasure to chat and tell the story of what has been for me an eventful day, a day, more than any other in which I feel more like the way I was back before my perianal abscess took over and began to dominate my life.

Thank God is all I can say, thank God!