Quarantine Cymru - day Five

Clouds, sunshine and a few early showers on this Day that the Lord has made. I woke up at five and thought it was later, as I felt refreshed, but I did go to be earlier last night, and am still sleeping well.

I said Morning Prayer, listened to the Sunday Worship service on Radio Four. It was a modern style service of the Word celebrating Father's Day (I'd forgotten), offering scriptural and personal reflection on fatherhood in a thoughtful rather than sentimental way. Then I read the Church in Wales Eucharist texts to celebrate being back home on a Sunday. 

It's the longest day today, and 95 days after imposition, the Spanish government Estadio de Alarma ends today. Powers to implement restrictions where these may be needed to control outbreaks passes back to regional governments, and free movement between regions is possible once more. Some parts of the country, like the Balearic Islands are almost virus free, whilst in others it persists, with new infections and deaths, albeit far fewer than a month ago. 

Now travel between EU countries can resume, there will be a slow influx of holidaymakers. German travellers are already arriving. Spain has conceded that UK travellers won't be obliged to self quarantine for two weeks on arrival, although they will have to if they return. No incentive here for short term holiday-makers unless they aren't returning to work. It will benefit Brits wanting to return to second homes and businesses, or to reunions with family members. 

It remains to be seen whether this movement of people triggers a second wave of contagion. Spain's hospitality industry is geared up welcome people with appropriate hygiene precautions. Let's hope visitors are equally cautious and not in denial about the possibility of a second wave. I wonder if local trace and track systems will serve when scaled up to cope with visitor influx, and contain any imported outbreak? Time will tell.

I'm not yet ready to dive into the Parish's Sunday offering of liturgy on-line, but  I could hear Clare singing along downstairs after breakfast. No, I'm using quarantine as a retreat, to adjust to being here where there's been a different approach to infection control. When I am free to go public in nine days time, I will indeed need to be alert to the differences.  I remember how I felt the first couple of times I ventured out legitimately during and after lock-down in Ibiza. It takes a little time to regain confidence. That's not a bad thing. It's a matter of looking out for others as well as yourself in the best way possible.

Finally, I started work on transcribing the travel diary Clare and I wrote on our first visit to Greece for a three week backpacking holiday in the summer of 1967. I took it with me to work on in Ibiza but never took it out of my suitcase with too many other things to think about. Now in quarantine, I have leisure and quiet. We were abroad for thirty three days. I had forgotten that ten days were occupied with travelling there and back by train and ferry. With good connections the same journey today could be done in two days, and ten hours door to door by 'plane. Will there be a return to overland travel with huge question marks over air travel post pandemic? I wonder.

I've had phone calls from Kath, Rachel and Owain today wishing me a happy Father's Day. It makes me realise how blessed I am to have such lovely grown up children and enjoy their company.

State of Alarm - day Ninety

I woke up after a comfortable night's sleep, prayed, ate my breakfast sandwiches, and was paying my bill dead on time to take a taxi to the airport at ten to nine. The vast area of check-in desks at Terminal One was almost deserted, just one slim queue visible for a Vueling internal flight. I had to hunt to find the British Airways check-in desk, having been waved roughly in the right direction by one of many masked officers, either Proteccion Civile or Policia. The desk wasn't yet open but one check-in clerk was briefing another about the flight, as I arrived, second in the queue.

Then three cops arrived with a big burly middle aged Brit and a lady, who might have been a spouse or an interpreter. This party jumped the queue, and the guy who was the centre of attention produced a sheaf of papers which he handed over to the check-in clerk. After a few minutes they were handed back to him with what looked like a couple of tickets. At a guess, I suspect he was under arrest, due to appear in court, and would miss his flight unless he could change his ticket. By a quarter to ten, I had been checked in an given a paper ticket. The clerk wasn't interested in in the boarding pass that I displayed on the BA smartphone app, especially installed. With so few customers, there was no need for modern smart solutions to old ticketing requirements.

This time I was ready to pass through security and did so smoothly. I had an hour to wait for the flight boarding gate to be announced, and spent the time walking the vast length and breadth of the almost deserted wings of Terminal One Sector D, and taking photos of this uniquely empty place. You can see them here.  Today's flight destination board showed fifteen flights scheduled instead of a daily total of over seven hundred. Six of these were internal flights and nine international. 

Today the suspension of the Schengen open borders policy is lifted, though I suspect it will take some time to be implemented on every means of transport. Looking at the people waiting to board our flight to Heathrow, travellers seemed to be mainly domestic rather than business users - people like me wanting to get back to their families after lock-down. If any holidaymakers were travelling, it's more likely they'd be people stuck in Spain an now returning, than people going on leave. 

For the moment, despite the media talking up the prospects of summer holiday travel, nervousness is more likely to inhibit all but the ignorant and the daredevil from leisure travel at the moment. The one exception is perhaps those who have holiday homes in another country, and the traffic for those who can afford it, is two way. I suspect it will be a while longer before things really start to get really busy again at airports around the world. More and more people are wondering - is my journey really necessary?

As I board the 'plane, I wonder how long it will be before I get to visit Spain again. A country that I've so much grown to love in the past twenty years. My long locum days are probably over, as I'm now more conscious of the risk of being away on my own, and can't expect Clare to put her life and work on hold for an extended period to suit me. So who knows what the future will hold?

We arrived ten minutes early in Heathrow Terminal Five. It's a long walk to baggage reclaim, made more difficult to know where your baggage carousel is, as there are so few travellers in this vast public area. Normally you just follow the herd of people you vaguely recall as being on your flight to find the place. I missed it altogether and had to back track to find it.

After a long walk to the arrivals gate, and then another walk in the car park, Kath and I met in level three, which was 5-10% occupied by vehicles. By a quarter past four we were in Meadow Street back in Cardiff, after a smooth journey home. We were both struck by the amount of speed limited roadworks on the M4 as far as Reading. In addition to road widening, new new digital infrastructure is being install to control the heavy commuter traffic flows into London from a 50 mile radius. What we don't yet know is what impact this pandemic will have on this state of affairs. It seems that the lock-down is demonstrating the benefits of working from home to new people, who may well decide this offers a better quality of life than driving to an office every day. We shall see!

After a cup or tea and some cake, Kath headed off for Kenilworth. I spent the evening adjusting to life in our attic bedroom under lock-down. I'm unused to such a limited space, and unpacking was a nightmare. Where to put everything in my suitcase? And now I have to bring my one miserable Windows 10 computer up to day, which will take many hours and hog internet connectivity until it has done its thing.

Apart from that, and the on-going battle to overcome Covid-19, all manner of things are well in my small world. I have been blessed by a smooth well organised three stage journey home, surrounded by the good-will and prayers of so many people in Spain, Britain and elsewhere. It'll take me quite a while to digest all I have learned. Thank you friends everywhere!

Hmm - when I wake up tomorrow, my life will no longer be governed by Spain's declared 'State of Alarm'. The UK government's general crisis management seems dangerously sloppy in contrast to Spain and other EU nations. What have I come home to? How do I entitle my blog from tomorrow? I'll have to sleep on it.

  

State of Alarm - day Eighty Two

A cool, dull and cloudy day today. Day four of the antibiotics and some improvement in clearing the infection. As it eases off, the challenge is not to forget to take the next pill punctually. I know I am used to it, but sometimes I wonder if I'll ever have an unbroken night's sleep again. I pray, meditate or is it really sleep? I need nine hours of rest to be reasonably sharp and clear headed when I get up.

I decided to print off the Vueling boarding pass and hotel reservation confirmation this morning. It wasn't straightforward as I've not needed to use the printer for the past three months. Both black cartridges needed changing. The Canon colour multi function printer is completely foreign to me, with a more sophisticated hardware user interface and PC software than I've had to use before. It would print, but only faint copies that didn't reproduce a QR scan code to identify the ticket. 

The diagnostic system said that all was working properly. I suspected that the print head needed a good clean, though this wasn't flagged up. I had to dig into the on-line manual to find out how to do this, and operate the machine's hardware user interface. It took me the best part of an hour from start to finish to get the device working properly. Just as well I decided to do this in advance, and not on the morning of my departure! As for the BCN-LHR boarding pass, this cannot be generated until 24 hours before the flight, by which time I am unlikely to be able to print it off, and will need to rely on a digital copy without paper backup. I can never exclusively trust any digital system to work, as there are so many things that can go wrong, even if your phone battery is fully charged and you have an internet connection, you can still lose or break your phone when you need it most.

With that job done, I recorded and edited this week bible study, number twelve in the series. Only the first was delivered to an assembled group, the rest have been on-line audio. With another eight hefty chapters to consider, there was never any chance that I would be able to complete this tour of Acts. I decided to focus in broad brush strokes on the five chapters in which Paul makes his final journey to Jerusalem and how that leads to him going to Rome to appeal to the Emperor.

As it's punctuated with several big speeches from Paul, it can be heavy going, but setting these aside and following the thread of the story is fascinating, as we see him again on the move, getting into all sorts of trouble and surprise meetings in which setbacks again become opportunities to evangelize. Just seeing this in perspective is worthwhile exercise in what is a fifteen minute overview of those chapters. I have certainly enjoyed the challenge of doing this. It's helped to keep my mind active and focused, in sickness and in health, so to speak.

Anthony cooked a popular German dish for lunch - Currywurst with Sauerkraut - one of Owain's favourites when he visits Berlin. It was very good. Being able to get suitable sausages for this here isn't surprising as there so many German people live in Ibiza. As we ate, the heavens opened and it rained heavily for half an hour and drizzled for a while longer. By the time I was ready to go out for an evening walk, all the clouds had left and it was warm and sunny again.

I walked down to Cala de Bou's watch-tower, to take a closer look. It's now embedded in the domain of a seashore restaurant which was open, but with no sign of customers, perhaps it was too early. I walked right along the shore line, navigating around huge rain puddles on the rough footpath, all the way to the beach of Cala des Torrents. It was empty, with just one small family returning to the sand as I passed by. But with several more hours of daylight and warmth left, I daresay other parents with small children will return to play later. Municipal play parks are still closed, sealed off with police tape. I daresay work will need to be done in due course to modify their equipment to minimise the risk of viral contamination. How that will be achieved is anybody's guess at this stage.

After supper I started thinking about next Sunday's sermon, and ended up in bed starting a draft on my tablet, something I don't normally do, to have a clean break before sleep. Trouble is, a train of thought can lead me astray into working when I should stop. Although my memory is good, I fear that I won't be able to re-capture an interesting thread. Old habits die hard.

State of Alarm - day Seventy Five

A warm night, broken but relaxed sleep, awakening to a cloudy day with a warm wind, tolerably humid. The wound is quiet almost pain free, still a little swelling, but I am feeling better than I have done for several weeks This is indeed 'watch and wait' time as Dr Jordan would say. Will it continue to improve or deteriorate? I returned to bed after breakfast, and thought about this week's Bible Study about which I've done nothing yet.

Chapter 20 looked promising so eventually I got up and started writing a reflection on its content. I was surprised at how quickly it came together. I had a recording done, and sent to Dave for uploading by half past one.

I cooked lunch for Anthony and myself. Having someone other than myself to feed for a change was a pleasure, ensuring that I sat down to eat. Nice that I can sit long enough to eat once more without much discomfort or pain.

After a siesta and a long chat with Clare, I walked down to the sea near Cala de Bou, then along the  coastal track to Cala des Torrents. Because the foreshore is rocky and inhospitable, there's a huge water-park on the land behind it. On the sea side there's a narrow 100m long splash pool with about twenty apartments facing directly on to the pool, each with its own set of steps. You can get out of bed, if you're a kid, and run straight into the water. The pool is in winter emptiness at the moment and won't be filled until holiday-makers arrive and apartments are booked.

The Cala des Torrents beach looked almost normal with a dozen families out enjoying sun sand and sea, all locals. Some wooden sunbeds had been put out. I think a beach cafe was open but nobody was sitting outside imbibing. Opening of bars and restaurants is happening slowly cautiously and according to government lock-down de-escalation rules.
 
On my return walk, up a long unmetalled road past a large urbanizacion, a man of my age stopped his car, smiled and offered me a lift, I thanked him and declined, explaining 'Yo camino para mi salud' which he acknowledged with another smile and went his way. I guess he was feeling in good spirits with the signs of a return to normality, and maybe just wanted someone to chat to.

It was lovely to hear happy sounds and see children playing on the beach, with not harsh voice of rebuke.  I hope it stays like that.

State of Alarm - day Sixty One

A good night's sleep, and a quiet time of worship, which included listening to BBC Radio Four's Sunday Service, as well as praying the Offices of Matins and Holy Communion. This morning radio service reflected on the seven fold gifts of the Spirit, and offered profound food for thought. 

Prepared by a Scottish team, it's the second time in recent weeks that I've listened to a non liturgical non-Eucharistic act of worship from Catholic presenters. As there are plenty of on-line streamed Masses available for people to attend, it's really good Catholic broadcast media isn't duplicating these offerings but creatively stepping out of comfortable routine, drawing on the immense wealth of spirituality which perhaps would only be easily accessible to people in an organised retreat, or else willing to go on line and hunt for it. It's true we've all got more time to think at the moment, what's impressive is the quality of the offerings being made by faith communities.

This morning the impulse returned to work on my short-story-turned-into-a-novel again. I had intended to write more while I was here but this is only the second time I have loaded the file in fifteen weeks. Funny how it's possible to get into the flow write thousands of words and forget to insert chapter headings! That's where I left it back in February. What I needed to do, was to help Clare who is reading the first draft to navigate the second half of the 73k words of text.

When I was out walking yesterday I understood what I needed to write in order to turn the story towards conclusion. I only had a vague idea up until now. It's grown and grown as the lives of the characters have unfolded in my imagination since I started writing seven months ago. It was quite a surprise that it developed the way it did, and so easily.

I found it refreshing to work on something different and creative, just for the sake of it. Eventually I went out for my daily walk, and just had enough time for supper before our family Zoom call, so refreshing to see them all enjoying each other's company again.

Confirmed in the news this evening is that the Spanish government is re-opening eight airports to commercial flights as of tomorrow. Ibiza is one of them. The national State of Alarm with phased removal of restrictions depending on regional infection rates, and government powers to act without consultation have been further extended for two weeks, so there's no guarantee that airport opening will not be reversed if conditions require. Does it mean British Airways will now honour my home flight booking for the 8th June? I don't trust them. Pero ya veremos.

  

State of Alarm - day Fifty Nine

Another decent night's sleep, but waking up feeling tired again. I continued working on the Sunday service service after breakfast, and not long after I'd got started, I had another text message from British Airways to say that my flight into London City Airport on June 1st is cancelled. Before my head stated spinning with that 'out of control' feeling of anxiety - which I didn't need with half a day's work ahead of me and not much energy left after Wednesday's airline fracaso, I took Kath up on her promise to deal with re-booking, and fight my corner for me, and forwarded the text message to her immediately.

Perhaps it is because she has fast broadband and is in the UK, or because BAe have fixed their page loading problem, but this time she got on to the re-booking page immediately, and booked a place on a IBX-LCY flight on June 8th instead. That's now three cancellations in ten days.

Will June 8th be repatriation day? I have no confidence left in BA's proposals. No doubt the changing statistics of the pandemic both in Ibiza and UK create new uncertainties all the time. There are probably not enough people wanting to fly in or out of Ibiza to London to make the cost of a two way flight with social distancing viable.

Schengen open border provisions are supposed to be resumed on June 15th, and after that date some measure of a return to scheduled flights is being proposed. We'll see if it's delivered by any airline, let alone BA. If only they had enough moral integrity as a company to advise people of the fluidity of the situation. They'll take your money and cancel your flight often enough to make you wonder if you'd unwittingly fallen into one of those covid-19 scams.

This means I'll have to obtain prescription medication again, and this time around wound dressings as well, as I am likely to run out of all I brought with me by then. I have made a two month's supply stretch to three so far, as the wound has been easier to manage. Meanwhile I have to cope with the emotional exhaustion associated with such a roller-coaster ride, and it's certainly taking it's toll on me. If I wasn't fit and well enough to get two hours of fresh air and exercise each day, I dread to think what kind of state I'd be in. Space to adjust and resign myself to a situation I have no control over, is all I need at the moment.

Once I'd completed most of the work needed on the Sunday service, I walked to Sumo supermarket to get a few things I couldn't find at Es Cuco, and returned with a heavy rucksack of supplies to see me through the weekend. Staff there are also cheery and pleasant. No doubt they are glad to be able to work when so many cannot. The positivity of people in the face of such a deadly crisis with such an uncertain future ahead is quite inspirational. I wonder what it's like in BA's back offices?

State of Alarm - day Fifty Four

Clouds, wind and rain greeted me when I got up this morning. Yesterday's line of washing I hadn't brought in at sunset as I thought it was a bit damp. Well, it's no damper and thankfully not soaked as the washing lines are just under the back terrace canopy.

I prayed, and listened to BBC Radio Four's Sunday Worship programme, with the Bishop of London officiating and Archbishop Rowan Williams reflecting on VE day commemoration, celebrating also the life and work of Florence Nightingale in public health sphere, especially relevant in the light of the covid-19 crisis. 

Dom Trulan, an army veteran and holder of the George Cross also spoke of the qualities which had enabled a generation of soldiers to defeat evil and build lasting peace in Europe. He affirmed the high quality of organisation and discipline in civilian and military bodies which provided a secure foundation and framework for everyone to rise to the challenge and give their best. What was true seventy five years ago, he said, is true of the NHS today on the front line of the pandemic battle. It was all well said, and steered my thoughts as I prayed through the texts of the Eucharistic Word and Sacrament of the day.

When I stepped outside to go for my morning exercise stint (late again), it was raining, but I kept going, although I hate getting wet, as the air would be extra fresh and do me good. Besides the birds were singing cheerily, as if it was just dawn, not five hours later. As soon as the rain stopped, small birds emerged from shelter and flew around. Some perched in rain puddles and drank. Dry weather leaves them with only the occasional farmyard rainwater tank to drink from, or waiting until it the weather cools enough for dew to form so they can drink.

After lunch I finished the weekly bible study and recorded it before going out for a walk, and then recorded the bible passage in the evening, after the family Zoom meeting, which this week went on for an hour and a quarter, instead of forty minutes. Not sure why, but it was a real tonic to see them all, full of good humour.

For the past week there has been considerable confusion about what the easing of restrictions here actually mean. It's clear they are designed to manage large populations in densely crowded areas and this doesn't make sense in rural areas. A document issued by a local community association has now clarified matters and makes sense. Thinly populated rural municipalities with populations of less than 5000 are not subject to all the restrictions applying in urban areas. It'd be unenforceable given the limits on manpower and the need to concentrate on problem concentrations of people.

Time and age schedules for those doing sports or taking their daily paseo in rural districts are done away with. Meetings of small numbers of people, not of the same family are permitted. Heaven help anyone trying to hold a party however. I suspect their neighbours would denounce them. Nobody in their right minds wants the virus or lock-down to return. 

This good news should make quite a difference to my remaining weeks here.

State of Alarm - day Fifty Two

I saw the full moon descending toward the horizon and went back to sleep for a while, then got up at sunrise to listen to the dawn chorus - well, apart from the local blackbird singing its heart out, what I could mostly hear, now that my ears age getting attuned to it, is the sound of cocks crowing and peacocks crying from the poultry farm down the way.

It's the 75th anniversary of VE day today. News and comment focuses on how it is being observed in such unexpected circumstances, making good mention of the way people of that era, still alive now, are remembering and also reflecting on what's happening at the moment. The survivors run on gratitude, and take nothing for granted. They know they had a good life, even if they lose it any time soon. That's wisdom in old age for you. Not much whingeing around here.

One of the things I enjoy about walking everywhere is joining up different locations and paths in my mental map. So often new roads will take you one place directly, or else by-pass older narrower roads altogether. Walking an area you get to understand something of what shaped its ancient trails and what generations of road engineers have done on top of them since. This was an aspect of time spent on various locum duties along the coast from Malaga as far as Almunecar. Slowly I'm getting know the area within a 5km radius of Casa Capellania.

My morning walk today took me on local side roads through the neighbouring urbanizacion from here towards San Antoni, and then up past the extensive modern educational complex, which has primary, secondary schools and a sports centre all on the same huge site. Normally, I see this from the other side, walking up the un-metalled track. Now I've closed the circle and done the 5km circuit, and see how places fit together.

I found there's a small supermarket on the road, adjacent to the schools. I arrived just before the schools shut down, and saw students leaving at the end of their day from the track on the other side across the fields. I daresay local residents rely on the supermarket, but in the absence of hundreds of kids a day, five days a week, buying snacks, sweets or drinks, there's a huge loss of revenue. And now, installing bio-security measures in store has to be paid for as well. One economic nightmare among many, in a small seaside town on a popular holiday destination island. Scholars will return, but tourists - how long?

I spent some of the afternoon working on the sound file for this Sunday's service, then walked up to Es Cuco to do some grocery shopping before supper. In the hour before sunset lately I have noticed that there are more people out and about. You do notice when the road has been eerily silent for weeks, empty apart from the occasional dog walker. I went out to walk the last couple of kilometres of the day and was pleasantly surprised to see couples out walking, trail bike riders, a family of six and the occasional jogger out on the country lane. I don't think anyone is forgetting just how scary is the situation the country is in, but everyone needs to be outdoors in the fresh spring air, for the sake of sanity and well-being. The trouble is, sustaining strict discipline indefinitely, whatever the sanctions for non-compliance will end up causing other problems we may live to regret.
  

State of Alarm - day Fifty

I enjoyed a longer night of unbroken sleep than I have done in a long time, and was so relaxed it took me ages to wake up and get going. When I finally did, I had some ideas about next week's bible study to write with, and somehow the morning just slipped away, and it was three by the time I got outdoors and walking.

I explored the upstream edges of the ravine or torrent, as it's called locally, and which in Andalusia would be called an arroyo - basically a dry river bed, often overgrown with trees and bushes, where water may flow in times of deluge, but where normally the river runs underground through porous rock. I was looking for a possible footpath in or alongside the ravine, but couldn't find one. It was just too overgrown. Later, I walked a mile up the main road to the point where a road bridge crosses the torrent. There was no sign of footpath access here either, and yet, walkers who know the area say there is a footpath up the torrent somewhere... to be discovered another time.

Lock-down restrictions are to be eased further this coming weekend. It may even be possible for groups of people to meet who aren't relatives. It may be possible to make small plans for a social existence again. But we shall see. It all depends on infection rates continuing to drop.

State of Alarm - day Forty Eight

Another gloriously warm day. I was a little slow getting started this morning with a load of washing to do after breakfast, and then had an unexpected call from Owain just as I was about to set off on my morning walk, which put me behind schedule, not that it matters that much. There aren't many walkers out. More people go about business in cars on weekdays, it seems to me. Having completed this week's Bible Study last night, I recorded and edited it after lunch then emailed it to Dave for uploading.

I then drove up to the recycling point with a month's worth of sorted stuff to dispose of in the neatly ordered receptacles near 'Es Cuco'. After that I completed the second half of the day's walk. Rosi told me to look out for wild orchids, which appear at this time of year, but no luck so far, though I do see new flowers emerging which weren't there a month ago.

After supper, for a change, I relaxed on the bed, listening to the Leningrad Symphony number 7 by  Shostakovich, written as a memorial to those who died during the three year Nazi siege of city, over a million civilians and several million soldiers on both sides. I was fascinated to learn that it was performed in the city under siege in 1942, and that a microfilmed orchestra score was smuggled to the USA and performed there live a few months later under the direction of Arturo Toscanini. It is still performed in the city's cemetery in honour of the 600,000 war victims buried there. Great music in every sense of the word. 

I wonder how the world will remember covid-19 pandemic victims once monitoring, treatments and vaccines are universally available? It may be slowing down, but it's far from over. We have yet to see the impact this will have on very poor countries. Will it end up being as high as the fifty million victims of the 1918 pandemic?

   

State of Alarm - day Forty Seven

What a lovely day! Blue skies and 25 degrees! BBC Sunday morning worship celebrated Salisbury Cathedral's 800th anniversary in the unexpected situation of the Cathedral being closed because of covid-19! It was a superb prayerful exercise in putting things in perspective and taking them in their stride. There's nothing like the Long View to keep us on track.

Official permission is granted today to leave the chaplaincy and walk out freely, though opinion differs as to whether this means for most of the day or hours specified, 10h00-12h00 and 19h00-20h00. In the countryside it hardly matters, as there is space a-plenty except for near the sea and the beaches. In highly populated areas it's a management issue, less so here however. Anyway, after spending time in worship and eating breakfast, I walked for over an hour along familiar byways within a couple of kilometres of home, rejoicing as I did so. 

A few couples were out wheeling their infants, a few more riding bikes or jogging. Plenty of time is allowed for those in sport training. Solveig thinks I can count myself in this number. She may be right, given my daily 10k fitness schedule. I can say if quizzed that I'm training for un camino de larga distancia. Which could be true in real life if I set my mind to it. More than anything else the sense of freedom rather than constraint was expressed in the way people walked.

It's funny, but after lunch I felt unusually tired, lay down on the bed and slept for an hour. It's ages since I last did that, reacting to, I guess, the relief of tension imposed by the strictness of measures due to the estadio de alarma. Everyone must keep behaving carefully and observe rules on social distancing to avoid a recurrent outbreak of contagion. This, takes getting used to and balancing with the responsible exercise of freedom as well. It's a long journey with many possible setbacks.

I took advantage of the opportunity to walk out again in the evening to complete my daily 10k walk an on orchard side road. In between times, ideas for the coming week's Acts bible study came to me, so now I have less work to complete tomorrow. I have enjoyed work on producing a commentary on the stories told in Acts, giving a cross cultural perspective on the events reported on. I think we need a more three dimensional perspective on the way things were in near middle eastern society two millennia ago, to make proper sense of it in today's diverse cosmopolitan world.

    

State of Alarm - day Forty Six

It's the first day of tentative lifting of restrictions. I must decide what to do first - walk for an hour on local country lanes, and then domestic tasks, like taking out the re-cycling, and going down to San Antonio to withdraw some cash, both requiring the car. It's a round trip I could easily walk in an hour and a half, but that exceeds the allowed time. Enforcement efforts will doubtless have to focus on beaches and parks, but who knows what other surveillance measures will be put in place. 

The daily news reports large numbers of fines and arrests on lock-down regulation transgressors of all kind, people with money to burn, willing to pit themselves against regulations they resent. Britain came late to the business of fining offenders, after many weeks of appealing successfully to people's good-will and common sense. British policing relies on consent more than compliance and is done on a more regional and local basis. Spain has its legacy state-wide enforcement systems, to be used for the common good these days, hopefully.

Clare came up with some good news from the gov.uk website. It seems travellers returning from abroad are expected to self-quarantine, keeping a close watch on state of health, but able to exercise out doors, do essential shopping and keep a safe distance from others. That's a weight off my mind. It means I can continue my established routine without interruption.

I walked for an hour up and down the unmetalled track opposite in the two hour morning window of outdoor time for over seventies. I saw a family of four plus dog out together on the main road, one oldie like me with a younger companion. A jogger went up and down the track several times and a couple of young cyclists were out enjoying their freedom under a blue sky and air temperature in the low twenties.

By lunchtime  the weekly service was complete and sent to Dave for web uploading. I didn't get around to using the car for errands as intended, but I did get around the mending the broken trousers pocket I've put up with for months, and added an extra hole to my belt, having lost my spare tyre altogether.. I've shed 4-5 kilos since I've been here to my surprise, and am roughly the same weight and shape I was when we married 56 years ago. I wonder if I'll put weight on again when I am no longer having to cook for myself? Time will tell.

In the afternoon, I spent half an hour tackling some of the tangled dried out vegetation covering a section of a garden lawn which got overrun by colonising weeds which project roots and shoots in all directions before exhausting itself. It's hard work without a rake, and a small scythe, so the biggest effort I need to make is restraint, not trying to do too much at a time. Slow and steady may yield a measure of tidiness eventually.

When I was passing by, I disturbed a gecko in the bbq pit. I pursued with camera but without much success. It's hard to get a sharp photo of one, perhaps due to their peculiar skin, which changes colour according to its environment, like a chameleon. Later I saw a baby gecko crawling among the cinders left from the last time the bbq was used, almost the same colour, noticed only because it was moving. I got a photo before it disappeared into hiding, but yet again not a good one, although the HX90 autofocus seemed to work.

It's not motion blur or shaky old hand, I don't think, but the way the creature's skin reflects light. There's a similar issue with capturing detail of red flowers that's to do with the way the particular bundle of red light wavelengths is registered by a camera sensor. The variety of angles from which each petal reflects light adds to an equation which the human eye deals with far better than most commonly used cameras. The increase in ambient temperature seems to have brought more birds to the area, judging by the increase in birdsong. I am seeing more and more tiny lizards too. This must be the time when they hatch out. Convenience food for some birds too I imagine. 

State of Alarm - day Forty Five

It's Mayday here, and normally a day of grand fiesta on the island. In the religious calendar it's the feat of San Josep el Trabajador. In fact, the titular feast of the Parish in which I'm residing. In the UK tradition makes this the Feast of St Philip and St James the Apostles, with St Joseph the Worker kept on 19th March, except that in the secular calendar for more than a century Mayday has been Labour Day. I love this cultural messyness, the tension between the local and the universal!

The Spanish government has today published its relaxation of lack-down plan. Church services may resume in the last week of May, just after I am due to leave. People over seventy may walk for an hour between ten and noon, then again between six and seven. Kids and those training for sports get time slots of their own. Nothing is scheduled for between 11.00pm and six in the morning, begging the question - is sleep or staying at home obligatory? Are there sanctions against walking in the dark? I've not seen answers to these questions anywhere. 

It's not clear how any of this will be monitored. It's designed with urban lock-down in mind where CCTV is common, but what about inhabitants of rural areas? Am I meant to walk within a 1km radius of home for one hour a day only? Who is going to check? How will anyone know? Do the authorities have that many surveillance drones en el campo. As ever, the devil is in the detail. At least I can walk out in daylight tomorrow. And if it's safe enough to do that, I can also go to the bank, which is permitted, though it doesn't specify how I should get there, foot, car taxi or bus. It'll all become clear as everyone muddles through, no doubt. 

The farmer opposite came out with his four by four and a trailer today and parked by the pump house. While I was out walking the sound of his chainsaw filled the air, and slowly the trailed filled with logs he'd cut from trees in the arroyo next to the house. I daresay there's some tidying up to be done down there, to reduce the amount of flammable material as a precaution against forest fire, A man with a petrol driven strimmer like the one in the garage downstairs was also out working on the roadside verges for the same reason.

I examined the strimmer downstairs a few days ago and decided it wouldn't be safe for me to try and figure out how to use it and get it working as I'm here on my own. I've done a little manual clearing of vicious spiky growths choking up garden beds but that's painful hard work, to be tackled slowly, with recovery days in between! Accepting one's limitations is part of getting old, I guess.

I prepared most of the material for this weekend's on-line audio service in between usual domestic tasks of the day. The final components will come in tomorrow. I had a two lovely emails, one from Yong locked down in Singapore and another from Fr Rhys, our GP NSM in Canton Benefice. Most of his daily work is now done by phone. Any time he needs to see a patient he has to be kitted out in full PPE gear. And for him it's all so remote from the needs of so many of his patients with chronic health conditions needing to be dealt with. 

While the NHS is coping heroically with the impact of the pandemic, it's a major setback for the objectives of health care as a whole, from which the UK like many other countries will take years to recover. He talked about the shrine created in the closed off porch of St Luke's Parish Church, featuring a votive candle stand in front of a large icon of the Evangelist, emblazoned with an NHS logo. Brilliant cultural adaptation. He was especially pleased that Mother Frances asked him to bless its inauguration. What a super parish I go home to - hopefully!

State of Alarm - day Forty Four

An episcopal encyclical arrived with yesterday's emails, detailing carefully the measures and safety procedures which will need to be implemented when public worship can be resumed. Already a few chaplaincies of the diocese in Europe have this prospect approaching quite soon. Sadly, not while I'm in Spain, I think. More than half of the chaplaincy members I won't get around to meeting let alone celebrating with, live in church. The state must first decide it's possible to manage a modest degree of free movement, and resume select business activities to get the economy moving, then conditions may be safe enough to start risk minimised public worship. 

Once congregations are given permission to gather again publicly by government and the Bishop, Churchwardens and sides-persons will have their work cut out to plan and make arrangements for a sanitized liturgical environment, complying with social distancing. What will hit congregations hard is the extreme restriction if not actual banning of collective singing, even in socially distanced environments. This is to minimise exhaled air vapour carrying coronavirus particles far enough for another to inhale them. Bio-security clearance certificates for worshippers wanting to gather is also contemplated, along with several smaller services with people more spread out. With many people getting used to watching on-line services, and finding they have a choice of offerings to suit their taste, deterrents to traditional forms of church service are fast stacking up.

Preparation for any church worship gathering will be a really big effort that no cleric could manage on their own. This was often the norm before covid19 when priests regularly took several services a day, supported by a minimum of church officers, either in the same or other venues, so the faithful could conveniently be served with Word and Sacrament. That's just how it was, the status quo coram plaga. It'll be quite a while before things could be the same again. Maybe they never will be the same again. The impact on how Christians worship and share faith is now changing at a pace unimaginable in the fifty years since churches worldwide were rocked by radical liturgical change and innovation for the first time since the Reformation five centuries ago.

At the same time we face again the same kind of issues as were current then. Fear of contagion even before law enforcement has prevented people from attending public worship and receiving Communion. During lock-down, watching services on-line has served as a replacement, and people have had to get used to the idea of receiving spiritual communion instead. That's how it was before the Reformation, watching services performed up in the sanctuary behind a screen from the distance of the nave!

Frequent reception of Communion may have started to wane when Christianity became a religio licita of the Empire in Constantine's day, and worship in public buildings on a big scale became the norm. Plagues happened in those days too, and Communion in the form of wine from the chalice began to be restricted or modified by using intinction instead, before eventually Communion from the Cup was limited to officiating clergy.  

Withholding the chalice from the laity may be less to do with the presumed assertion of clerical privileged status than an early health and safety precaution. At the Reformation, however, restoring the Cup the the laity was regarded by some as a key issue, along with restoring frequent Communion as in the primitive church. Changes in the pattern of worship to facilitate easier access to Communion in both kinds took place, but it didn't result in a resumption of the ancient church status quo, despite the exhortations of many reformers. 

Rather than celebrate the Eucharist with only a priest and maybe his assistant communicating,  a service of the Word became the Sunday norm for reformed churches. Several Communion Sundays were designated in the year, and these were made obligatory to attend by state if not church law.  This didn't work either. The idea of the sacrament expressing the 'sacred in the ordinary' which had been part of its Jewish origins had been corrupted by a persistent pagan idea of sacred things with magical powers. Biblical and historical scholarship made possible a return to ancient practice in the 19th century. First the Roman Catholic Church began an movement encouraging more frequent Communion, then Anglicans followed in the early 20th century with the introduction of the Parish Communion as the Sunday worship norm. After four centuries of delay the reformers' ambitions were finally realised. 

By the 1970s  radical demise of all services of the Word set in, not just due to the desire for more frequent Communion. Evening telly put an end to Parish Evensong, Matins was replaced by the Eucharist. Ironically, at the same time, decline in vocations led to fewer priests being obliged to take more Communion services. This is still the case, despite non-stipendiary and women clergy redressing the balance to some extent. The law of unintended consequences led us to a point where the church is over dependent on clergy expertise and sacramental liturgy.  

Now the pandemic has put us in a position where churches have to revert to services of the Word without sacramental communion being possible or just making people spectators of liturgical ritual, as happened before the reformation - as it may have been for maybe the greater part of Christian history. What a strange turn of affairs! Where do we go from here? If desire to attend frequent public worship and receive sacramental Communion is supplanted by habitual consumption of worship services on-line, where will this lead God's people? "In the 21st century" said Karl Rahner in my youth "Christians will either be mystics, or they will be nothing at all." I wonder what he would have made of internet consumer religion?

Well, pondering on these things and writing about them on a warm sunny day meant that it was gone three when I finally stepped out on to the terrace to start my day's walk. With more interruptions and an unexpected spell of snoozing mid-afternoon, it was after sunset before I finished. I hope I can summon enough energy to stay the course and get home. It's a bit like hitting 'the wall' when running a marathon. I've been there twice before. Glad it's forty years since then, and not my next challenge!

State of Alarm - day Forty Three

I was working on pastoral stuff until late last night, and realised I hadn't completed my daily 10k so at 11.30pm, so I went outdoors and walked around in darkness The sky was clear and starlit. Only after a while did I see the crescent moon on its descent towards the horizon, and Venus twinkling brightly on the edge of the skyline before it disappearing.

It was a wonderful refreshing pre-sleep treat, except that it stimulated me to draft a poem before settling down for the night, so it was one o'clock before the lights went out, and half past eight when I woke up to warmth and Spring sunshine. Rosie messaged me to say that migrating bee-eaters have arrived and to keep a lookout for them around the arroyo next to the house.

I should have been flying home today. Twenty four days to go, and that means three more Sundays and Bible Studies on-line to prepare, unless church meeting restrictions are lifted, which might just happen for the 17th, though I have my doubts given the perpetual uncertainties surrounding the plan to get economies moving again across Europe and elsewhere.

I had a look at the readings for next Sunday and immediately had a ideas for a sermon. Rather than waste the thoughts I got busy, and had a draft ready by lunchtime. Early in the week for me. Later I made a start on another batch of marmalade, mostly lemon, but with couple of oranges for variety as well. It's all experimental, and fun to see how it turns out. I made four full jars, tasting nice and bitter, the way I most enjoy it.

While I was out walking this evening a flock of about thirty small birds flew into the pine trees in the field opposite, grey undersides, with wings unlike those of swifts or swallows, but more fan like, able to swoop and glide on air currents. I didn't get a good closeup view, but I am intrigued as to what they could be.  Then, as the sun set swifts and swallows did arrive, hunting insects displaying their aerobatic skills against a backdrop of orange tinted clouds - enchanting.

Rose emailed me to ask the dimensions of my case for the baggage hold on the return trip. I couldn't find a tape measure, so I had to use a sheet of A4 as a measuring guide, but had to google the actual size of a sheet as it's not the sort of factoid my memory can be bothered to retain. Perhaps I should measure the dimensions of all our cases and write them somewhere on their insides for reference.

When I get home to two weeks quarantine I'll be confined to the house, Clare and I working out ways to avoid each other while living together. How I get my 10k a day routine walk done I have no idea. The garden is small and the back lane hardly fifty metres. I can see myself sneaking off to the park in the dead of night, once the street light go out to avoid enforcers if there are any. There ought be a common sense solution, I'm not convinced there things are thought through in consultation with sensible end users, equally concerned for the common good.

A lovely ending to the day with a transeuropean transatlantic family chat on Zoom, and then a look at the clear night sky with a warmer night breeze than we've had over the past two months. Let's hope there's more to come in my remaining weeks here.
   

    

State of Alarm - day Forty One

Clouds and rain gave way to sunshine this morning and nice long warm day. After Morning Prayer, I listened to the Sunday programme on BBC Radio 4. This ended with a poem written by a surgeon on in a Lancashire hospital Intensive Care Unit, entitled 'I just called to say ...' It wasn't a homage to the Stevie Wonder song of the same name, but an account of his telephone pastoral ministry to the next of kin of patients under his care on ventilation. Half of his day is spent on the phone updating those who wait at home, for better or for worse. The poem spoke of what he has to tell someone at each stage, eagerly awaiting news, unprepared for how long it takes, either for recovery or to death. It was moving and powerful, and gave an insight into the anguish of the healer when all that can be done has been done, and all that's left to do is wait.

The broadcast Morning service, which I listened to over breakfast centred around the Emmaus Road story, today's Gospel. Worship was led by the chaplain and staff members of a hospice, and turned around the journeys people make at the end of their lives. In my sermon for this week, I mentioned that several places lay claim to be the original Emmaus village just outside of West Jerusalem. The preacher, principal of Mansfield College Oxford took it a step further, speaking of several possible roads to Emmaus, all of them different, one hidden, one overgrown and neglected, one dangerous, along a landmine strewn border and so on. It's an imaginative fugue on the narrative, showing how rich are the possibilities for feeding on the Word.   

I read Ante-Communion and prayed at the usual service time. Valuable and inspiring though many on-line liturgies can be, sometime I find that I just need to read the texts rather than listen to them, and then be silent, either sitting or walking. There's no substitute for fellowship, for human contact, but the empty space can be re-purposed for waiting on God. Co-incidentally, Roy over in Alicante sent me a quotation from T S Eliot's Four Quartets which speaks profoundly of the mystery of God and the humankind beholding the mystery

'I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, 

for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; 

wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; 

there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. 

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: 

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.'

Out in the garden, I caught my first daytime sight of the house gecko on a wall, and took a photo which I'm proud of. Then I saw a pair of small grew birds acting as if  they were looking for a nesting site. As one of them rested on top of the big garden cactus I took a photo which Rosi later identified as a Spotted Flycatcher. I remember Mother Doreen pointing out one in the forest near her home up on the inland border of Malaga province but that wasd fifty metres away, impossible to snap. So this was another first!

In the evening Rosi called me about booking a flight home, on the 22nd May, as a couple of direct flights to London have been advertised on the BA website., one to London City and one to Gatwick. A quick chat with Kath confirmed she'd be willing to collect me and take me home, and within an hour I had the flight confirmation document. It was booked by Rose from the UK. She was stranded there on a return trip from Ibiza where she has made her home. Decisive action was needed and taken on my behalf, for which I am very grateful. But my hopes won't really begin to rise until this flight proposal is confirmed. Any deterioration here or in UK could change the best made plans. One step at a time on this road. The old order has changed, perhaps irrevocably, who knows yet?

The inbound flight will be mostly of stranded returnees, with fewer people this soon after lock-down wanting to go to London, except for business, or people who missed out on the emergency flights in March, and didn't need to return. It will be good to go home, though there will be far less for me to do there than there has been here, except carry on waiting for that final round of surgery. Clare says that 'elective' surgery is to be re-started soon, though I suspect I'll still have another six months to wait for that.

This morning I saw a man out walking with his young teenage daughter dragging her feet behind, taking advantage of the easing of restrictions on children. I could imagine a girl of her age saying "Oh Dad, must I go out with you, you're so embarrassing."  In the afternoon I heard several children's voices out on the road, and through the trees saw three naughty youngsters out together, no parent, no dog in sight. Well, one can expect the young to push the boundaries, having been pent up at home for so long. Good for their mental health, as it's bad for the blood pressure of law enforcers.

State of Alarm - day Forty

How disappointing to wake up to overcast skies and rain after such a lovely day yesterday. Farmers may welcome the rain, but how demoralising the cold and damp is! Ah well, plenty to busy myself with, getting this Sunday's service completed and ready to send to Dave for uploading.

Clare sent me a link to a video of Max Boyce reciting a 'lock-down' poem he's recently written in keeping with many other poets in Britain and doubtless across the world at this time. 'When only the tide went out' is moving and reflectively serious, yet not without a dash of humour in the best Welsh bardic tradition. It moved me to tears 'hiraeth'. You'll find it here on YouTube. Thanks Max.

Talking of YouTube, I found a wonderful rendering of the Taize canticle 'In resurrectionem tuam'

played by a virtual choir of fifty singers and musicians all over the world, appearing on screen in vignettes saying who they are and where they are. The video is beautifully crafted, and the sound editing precise, demonstrating a true digital native's mastery of the technology, whether Zoom or something else, I have no idea. Seeing so many joyful young faces from all around the world is a truly Gospel message in its own right. It's great to listen to but really must be seen here for this to have its inspirational impact.

I spent some time after my walk listening to a couple of thoughtful pastoral Bible studies by Simon Ponsonby for the ICS annual conference conducted for the first time ever this year using Zoom and then posted on YouTube. Co-incidentally on the page running the live stream I spotted a live video stream about to start of Vespers and Mass broadcast from the Church of St Gervais in Paris. As I'd finished Simon's talk, I then listened to Vespers while I cooked supper. A French Catholic internet channel has been showing services from there for at least a decade as I recall, and occasionally in times past I have dipped into them. 

The singing sisters at St Gervais are part of the Communaute de Jerusalem. Many of those under vows, men and women work in the area, and worship together twice a day. Are they flouting lock-down law, I wondered? It was clear from the conduct of the liturgy that social distancing is part of the everyday norm for the sisters. They don't bunch up in choir stalls, but use the generous expanse of floor space offered by the Gothic choir of the church with its exquisite acoustic. It allows them to flatten themselves on the ground in adoration without getting in each other's way, and may help their excellent varied choral singing not to be positioned so closely together. Kath rang for a chat while I was watching and cooking, so we agreed I'd ring back when I'd eaten. We then had a lovely conversation on WhatsApp while she was making supper. 

Late this evening, Spanish Prime Minister Sanchez is speaking of the prospect off people being allowed out their confinement for exercise on May 2nd, if there is no negative impact on rates of infection from letting under fourteens out with their parents from tomorrow. No doubt this will be hedged in by an assortment of limitations by the time that day arrives, but it will be better than how it has been now for the past forty days.

State of Alarm - day Thirty Nine

At last, a return to a sunny blue sky day with a temperature of twenty degrees from mid morning to early evening. I had Sunday's ministry of the Word to complete with files of recorded readings to add to the assortment of variables that string together to give an audio version of the liturgical text. What is so easy and natural to do standing in front of a congregation requires attention to detail to produce an acceptable final version.

Late yesterday my idea of making another short video of reflective discursive praying - example not instruction - bore fruit in a text I felt able to record. Last time I used the improvised altar set up in the dining room. This time I wanted to use the Taize Icon of Friendship, a Coptic rendering of the icon of Christ with St Menas, one of the Desert Fathers. I found a photo image on the internet that I could display on my Chromebook with the sides curtained off and a cloth over the keyboard. Then it was possible to position my Sony HX90 to focus on the image and fill most of the screen. 

With this arrangement it was a matter of pressing the camera video button and praying from behind it. This worked quite well until it came to turn off the camera. I couldn't see it clearly enough in the semi darkness to turn off without shaking the camera. This left me with a video needing the shaky silent bits trimmed off. I uploaded it to YouTube in the mistaken hope that there would be a simple video edit facility on the site. If there was, I couldn't find it. All you could edit was the information aka metadata. So I had to give up, as it was almost midnight. 

I noticed an email had just come in from sister June. Earlier she'd written to tell me that her Tesco on-line shopping order would not now be delayed several weeks as there were late night delivery slots available and she'd secured one for tonight. She wrote to let me know all was well and that friendly neighbours had helped her to take the groceries into her flat and dispose of the delivery crates. That was a nice note to go to bed on.

This morning I installed PiTiV video editor on the Linux laptop. It worked just about worked, being far too under powered for heavy duty processing. That's always the problem with video. Anyway on the powerful office PC I found a simple video editing app to use, so simple that it took me a while to figure out how to operate it and do the simple thing I wanted, which was to trim the shaky bits of the video I'd made. Eventually it gave me what I wanted, and I ended up with a three minute video clip which was half the size of the original MP4 from the camera, so it took half the time to upload. After this, I had a link to email to Dave for posting on the church website. Pleased that I was able to get this done before completing the assembly of Sunday's Ministry of the Word.

I had long WhatsApp chats with Clare, with sister in law Ann and with Mother Frances, who called to check me out. It was lovely to talk 'shop' with her and hear about the Parish. I'm also lucky that I hear from several congregation members as well, all coping with social isolation in different ways and places, and interested to know how each other is getting on. Nobody is taking community for granted. This immense threat which we're now living with is teaching us to appreciate better people around us day by day, and that is doing wonders for social health. We've all be so preoccupied and driven by pressures of work and keeping up with entertainment and social demands in recent years that a period of time out makes us realise how superficial life has become under meaningless kinds of pressure.

Maaret came by mid afternoon, as I'd asked her to fill my empty containers of filtered drinking water at the filling station she goes to in San Josep. Why don't we go together, but in two cars, she suggested brilliantly. It was just what I needed, to drive out on a familiar road on a bright sunny day, to be shown how to find and use the municipal filtered water supply filling station on the outskirts of the pueblo. 

The water station used by many people from further east on the island is on the outskirts of San Rafael, three times the distance away and tucked behind a gas station. The payment system is the same in both places, but the water supply in San Rafael is uncontrollable as water pipes have no tap attached, so juggling with water containers has to be practiced. I wasn't looking forward to doing that on my own. The San Josep pipes do have taps so filling is orderly and controllable. 

The place was empty when we arrived. In fact, the town was deserted. It was at a sunny siesta time too. We stood and chatted standing by our cars at a safe social distance for ten minutes. I noticed a big sign over the water station saying it was under CCTV surveillance. That made me feel a little nervous, but I guess it was siesta time after all ... I drove home, my morale much boosted, and we had an interesting chat about the coping strategies people develop for meeting surreptitiously with friends, maintaining social distancing, chatting from inside cars in adjacent parking spaces. 

Things seem to be a bit more relaxed now, less tense. It's been days since any new cases have been reported on Ibiza nor have there been any deaths. Maybe some relaxing of restrictions for children to go outdoors will be put in place next week, and more later if that has no adverse effects. So there is mild optimism after six weeks of total lock-down. As for international travel prospects, nothing on the horizon I suspect, until June, if not longer. Life may get easier. A return to public ministry may even be possible later in May, and that would be welcome. As for home-coming, I try not to think too much about it. I'm just grateful to be alive and well. For now.

  

State of Alarm - day Thirty Seven

The temperature dropped a few degrees and there was wind and rain overnight and through the day into the afternoon. It was overcast and felt just the way it did a month ago. A day without cheer save for calls from Clare and Owain. There was a certain irony in seeing Clare in a summer blouse under a cloudless blue sky in our Pontcanna back garden. She told me that a local organisation is trying to organise a local sewing bee to make PPE gowns for NHS staff. 

She still has an old Singer sewing machine in good working order, and has volunteered, though she suspects good intentions may yet founder on poor planning and organisation. Whoever is trying to run the scheme asks volunteers how many gowns they think they can make in a day, without stating where the start line is. Are the workers to be given a pattern and material, or ready cut parts to sew together, or what? It seems typical of the situation we find ourselves in. 

It reflects the crisis management chaos exhibited by UK government leaders at the moment. Those in charge are lacking volumes of practical experience at juggling all the necessary demands of an overwhelming situation. They can tell you what they've done, but on times fail to join the dots, and must suffer the humiliation of being reminded of this by news media which seem to have more information at their disposal. Maybe the media could do better by making sure to pester relevant officials on the job, not on-air to entertain (or agitate) listeners.

Jayne brought me my week's grocery order, plus a  month's supply of my main blood pressure pills. I emailed our GP surgery yesterday to get the name of an equivalent to the standard diuretic pill I'm also supposed to take, but the email didn't arrive until after Jayne had been, so unfortunately that's another thing that can't yet be crossed off the 'to-do' list. If things were normal I could get some posted from home, but there are no guarantees they would arrive. I'm OK now until the beginning of June. There's no way of knowing if I'll be able to get home by then, there's such uncertaintly.

One good thing is that Jayne bought me a mascarilla, which I can wear if I need to go to a shop or the Pharmacy to collect something. I felt very awkward going into places without one, and earlier none were available, so I thought it prudent to simply avoid going up to 'Es Cuco', as I did before. Maybe I am a bit over sensitive, but I don't want to be a source of bother for anyone, and need to protect myself from the possibility of being a bother to others, even though the risk on Ibiza is very low compared to elsewhere. Clare has ordered me a new innovative anti-viral material protective hood cum mask to wear when I do eventually travel. The next question is whether it can fit into an envelope for sending in a posted letter, as any kind of parcel post is off-limits at present.

Despite the weather, I walked my 10k, but there was nothing noticeably new to take a photo of and send to Kath today. If it warms up again tomorrow, however, there might be some new flowers to notice, and lots more snails of different sizes. I did notice that the injured snail I saw being attacked by ants two days ago has entirely disappeared. Not just dead, but re-cycled without a trace. Whether by ants or some other nocturnal creature, I have no idea.

This evening I listened to a Low Sunday service broadcast on-line by Radio Suisse Romande from the Temple de Rolle on Lake Geneva. The link was sent to me by my friend Valdo in Aigle at the other end of the lake. It was a Swiss French Protestant service with some Bach organ and violin pieces and several Easter canticles sung by a local Russian Orthodox Choir - Low Sunday was their Easter Day. If that went outlive, the choir must have been tired as the Russian Orthodox keep Vigil throughout the night on Holy Saturday!

Special and well worth a listen was the address and meditations by Pasteure Isabelle Court. I was able to follow nearly all of it (except when she got really passionate and picked up speed), since her romandie French was beautifully clear, at a measured pace. My Spanish listening comprehension is not nearly as good as my French, but then I lived and worked in a francphone environment for nine years. So glad I haven't lost the ability to understand spoken Swiss French. French spoken in France is another matter altogether!

The meditations were an imaginative journey taken with Doubting Thomas's twin sister (he was after all Thomas Didymus - Thomas the Twin), from the day of the resurrection to the day when Thomas was reunited with the Lord again. Her theological and spiritual reflections made use of the typology devised by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross to describe the five stages of grief. Ir was remarkable and relevant to here and now with the pandemic loss of life, and most people's loss of freedom due to lock-down. Plenty to ponder on. You can find it here.

State of Alarm - day Thirty Six

I was awake at first light this morning, prayed the Office, then went back to sleep. This happens from time to time when I'm mulling over ideas. Later in the morning I wrote a full draft of next Sunday's sermon for recording. It'll take me several more days to concentrate it further. I'd rather do the work before I have to speak into a microphone, and hope not to exceed the listeners' attention span. It's important to me to think about this when I can't interact with a live audience. What a challenge clergy are faced with during the time of lock-down! I wonder how will history remember this time?

Today's news states that EU borders remain closed to all but essential traffic until mid-May. There won't be any international overland public transport services until then. Will flights re-start after the next phase of Spanish lock-down ends on May 9th? When will I ever get home? Thankfully, Jayne has solicited the help of one of the GPs she works with to write a medication prescription for me. My supply of pills runs out in the first week of May. It's not without its difficulties however, as the standard brand diuretic tablet I take is unknown in the Spanish pharma directory. The question in need of resolving is the Spanish brand name equivalent. UK-EU interchangeable prescription arrangements are fortunately still in place in this Brexit transition year. I think this is a key issue for negotiation of the Brexit divorce deal. This crisis time is going to teach Britons a hard lesson about what we are losing that we will have cause to regret.

This afternoon as I walked my 10k, a chill wind sprang up and the temperature dropped by several degrees turning a time of pleasant exercise into an effort. How quickly, I noticed, the house cooled down, calling for heating and an extra pullover. Still strange weather for this time.

My car insurance renewal notice arrived by email from Aviva a few days ago, and this evening I paid it on-line. The Polo is a nice little car, but I wonder how much longer we will keep it as our use of it has decreased so much over the past two years. It's there for the occasional convenience, but it would probably be cost effective to use taxis or hire an electric car when needed, rather than maintain a vehicle of our own, adding to our domestic carbon footprint and local pollution to no good purpose. With the planet in danger, this is no time to be sentimental about such things. Plus it's only a matter of time before Clare's advancing glaucoma will stop her from driving. Would I keep a car, just for myself then? Or just in case? I don't think so. The world will be a different place in any case, by the time I get home.