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.
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