What, if indeed anything, are you missing about the [original] lockdown ?
Certainly not circumnavigating the panic buying stampede, the verbal abuse thrown at strangers who were smuggling the maximum number of loo rolls into the car, whole extended families entering separately and coming out with four of everything each, while those of us waiting to be allowed in wept into our sore and cracked but sanitised hands,
“ Knowing what was left on the shelves would challenge Heston and certainly wouldn’t sustain a family of 2.4 (or a woman of 1.7, as it’s now defined)…]
Certainly not returning home after hours of combing shops trying to find enough to feed my family and the three vulnerable people self isolating who needed my help; weary, woeful and above all, almost empty handed.
Week 9, and the “stay alert/go out at your own risk” message is muddied even further by the shortsighted behaviour of Dominic “exceptional circumstances” Cummings. Already, I’m missing the silence. Planes overhead, vehicles increasing on number and speed, people on the beaches – and not natives either.
Of course, we’ve got to get back to normal life, I know that. The high street, those shops that have supported us natives through these weeks and those that have had to remain closed. They need the footfall and I recognise that. Our businesses need to open and our schools and life must go on.
All I’m saying is I liked it quieter.