Lockdown

Life in Brighton & Hove, life in Britain, life almost everywhere is surreal in Covid Lockdown.

In my exercise hour, I have taken some pictures of what it looks like where we live: the beautiful scenery, the empty spaces, the sense of desolation.

An iconic holiday resort in excellent weather with no people, a Marie Celeste city - something straight out of a science fiction movie.




The drip-drip-drip of terrible news from around the world, with many thousands of deaths, makeshift mortuaries and unconscionable suffering is hard to comprehend in the context of the empty beach, the passing joggers, the relentless sunshine.

Sometimes it seems unbearable, the tidings too painful to absorb.

Yet there is no doubting the immense spirit of the people of the UK, and of every country stricken by this terrible virus.

Yesterday (Sunday, 29 March 2020) I spoke on the phone to a friend who was celebrating his 90th birthday.

He said he was reminded of 1940 with the 'general feeling to pull together'.

I have noticed that too. People are often kinder and more generous than they usually are.

Hundreds of thousands of good-hearted citizens in Britain have volunteered to help, possibly putting their own safety at risk.

People who are fortunate enough to be still working are making a huge effort to keep their organisations, companies and charities going.

Sometimes, of course, signs of public discontentment bubble to the surface.

Food hoarding in particular has been insane, an animal reaction against the forces of reason.



But on the whole, people have understood the need for social distancing and the stay-at-home-where-possible policy, and are acting responsibly.

They understand the colossal battle the National Health Service faces to keep the unfortunate alive - a fight that, sadly, all too often it will lose to the hearses and bodybags.

Everywhere life is different.


Marrocco's restaurant and cafe, where habitually I enjoy my early morning cup of tea, has closed for the first time in more than half a century, although, strangely, work is allowed to continue at pace next door where a pop star is building a modern mansion for himself on the site of the former far-smaller bathhouse.

In Brighton and Hove, almost everything else is closed: only supermarkets, corner shops and pharmacies remain open to customers - and takeaways deliver, scooterists the unsung heroes.

A police officer told me that most people in Brighton & Hove are being sensible and social distancing - only a few teenagers clumping in groups.

Rough sleepers are being given hotel rooms to self-isolate in, he added, many of them staying in.

The people out are exercising alone or in couples and, maybe, enjoying a few rays of sunshine at the same time.

It is the strangest time in my life, stranger than the Falklands War, stranger than the Miners' Strike, stranger than the time of the Three Day Week, with its delightful power cuts.

But every day I count myself lucky to have what I have. I count my blessings.

Our War With Coronavirus

We live in extraordinary, almost incredible times. In my lifetime, I cannot recall a stranger situation: Britain in lockdown; cafes, pubs, clubs and restaurants closed; no live sport; the Government pulling the plug on the economy and then attaching it to a massive life support system - and tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands, set to die in the UK.

Like everyone else, I have found the past week tough. By Friday night, after days of mainlining the news on the dreaded Coronavirus (Cv), I felt deeply depressed.

I have been toiling away all week at home, on Cv-related things for the homelessness charity for which I work. I find the whole situation upsetting and find myself in tears listening to news updates from the UK and overseas.

Today (Saturday, 21 March 2020), I tried to listen to less news and get out for a long motorcycle ride, between Hove and Littlehampton.

Greggs was still open but only for takeaways, which was great.

The few customers kept well away from each other, and I was able purchase a vegan sausage roll and large hot chocolate for next to nothing - and enjoy them sitting on my own on a bench outside in the precinct.

A little way down the street, in an attractive old-style arcade, a lone man looked at Mothers' Day flowers.

Further down still, a lovely bookshop was closed to customers but had left out a good selection of its wares on a couple of trestle tables - for people to take for no charge.

A message from the bookseller included the words: 'Sorry we are closed but please help yourself to the books on this table for free!
If you are anticipating being stuck at home, hopefully a good book will help you through.'

So well done to Fireside Bookshop of Littlehampton. You should be proud of yourself!

It made me think of something the Chancellor of the Exchequer said about the little acts of kindness that people would remember when this time is over.

I am impressed by Rishi Sunak, his substance and presentation. He is a great talent who one day, I suspect, will become the UK's first Prime Minister from a BAME background.

Overall, the Government's response to the crisis has been fairly good, although there is more they could do for the most vulnerable in society, such as people experiencing homelessness, and for the self-employed.

Things are moving very quickly, however, and I hope more will be done to help these groups this coming week.

Prime Minister Boris Johnson sees this crisis as a wartime scenario - and he is right.

In terms of demanding that people behave in particular ways contrary to their financial interests and basic freedom, nothing like it has happened since World War Two.

We are all in this together.

Sadly, the hoarding that has occurred through panic buying in the supermarkets is damaging the food chain, hitting key workers and hurting national morale.

It is ridiculous, selfish and pointless - there is plenty to go round.

My partner Laura and I have been strict with ourselves in buying food just as normal and also to spend just as usual in general.

To spend all your money on food, depriving others, and save otherwise is crazy.

This is a time when self-control and consideration for others is vital - to keep food on everyone's plates and, with non-food items, keep consumer money going into the economy, as far as possible.

And we all have a moral duty to keep away from others as much as possible to slow the spread of Cv and save lives.

Stopping in Worthing, I was shocked to see how people were happy to rub against each other, when there was no need.

It seems to me that people are still struggling to grasp the immensity of the risk that our nation faces from Cv. I can understand that.

Putting your life on hold is tough, separation is very tough.

But we need to show a bit of love for each other by washing our hands and keeping our distance.

* I have left and picked up writing this post again. It is Mothers' Day - Sunday, 22 March - and I have been thinking of my Mum who died in April 2018.

On the last visit Mum made to Brighton, in 2017, I took her to Birling Gap, a Sussex beauty spot, and today, on a motorcycle ride, I went there again, on the way to Eastbourne.

The weather was beautiful today but it took me an hour and 15 minutes to ride from Hove to Eastbourne, partly because of a diversion and partly because of my cautiousness in quite strong winds.

Separation in Eastbourne was not a problem - it was almost deserted. Virtually everything was closed.

However, the Emporium store had stayed open, with hardly any customers.

Keeping a sensible distance, I chatted with the owner who said he expected to be ordered to close at any time under a 'non-essential trader' order. 'But I believe music is essential,' he added with a grin. I bought a couple of singles.

Across the road, a bar was interpreting the 'take-away' rule with its own 'Beer Drive-Through', selling pints through a window for a sole punter to drink in the street.

I saw similar thing later in Brighton, with drinkers standing outside a pub, surely being creative with the 'take-away' definition, which I'd have thought would apply only sealed drinks which customers took away to consume in other locations.

I hope people are generally sensible and the Government doesn't have to move to a curfew scenario with the majority of citizens confined to their homes.

How can we all get through this?

We have been taking our minds off it by watching the excellent series Better Call Saul, a prequel to the extraordinary Breaking Bad.

I also appreciate the BBC's effort to get into the wartime spirit, showing old episodes of Dad's Army and classic football matches in the place of the live equivalent. Watching the latter made me think how much more earthy and fun soccer used to be before the Premier League days.

Laura took part in Virtually Funny, an online comedy gig staged by a friend of ours in the place of a live comedy show. A fine idea, although hard to do using teleconferencing technology.

How ever tough it becomes, I know that Britons will get through this with a determined smile on our faces, whether working or at home. And that our national institutions - the NHS, the Government, our representatives at all levels and of all political hues - won't let us down.

Most of all at this time I think of my family and particularly my daughters, Edlyn and Frances who I miss.

I will leave you with an image from Devil's Dyke taken at dusk tonight. Have a good week, everyone!