All dressed up... I just hope we’ll still have a place to go

IHAVEN’T been out much lately. Why shoehorn yourself into a pair of toepinching heels, faff about with taxis and shell out more than you can afford when you can sit in the garden in a pair of oh-so-comfy Birkenstocks with a bottle of supermarket wine?

And so really, I should have seen the next bit coming. Because the other week, while planning a special occasion, I looked up a city restaurant that I have long wanted to dine at and even noted as a ‘must visit’ on my postpandemic bucket list (number of things ticked off so far: one), only to find it had shut down.

A bit more poking about online revealed that this particular eatery, once so popular tables had to be booked weeks in advance, was far from alone. A plethora of restaurants, bars and nightclubs in Scotland have closed their doors since the pandemic (and some during), including several much-loved old favourites, places you once imagined could weather any storm.

BUT there has rarely been a storm like the one endured by the hospitality industry over the past two-and-ahalf years. From draconian shutdowns to the dreaded levels system (excuse me while a shiver goes down my spine) which made operating at anything like normal capacity next to impossible, followed by the cost of living crisis, the mass exodus from our city centres and spiralling supply chain issues, any hospitality business still trading at the end of it all deserves a gold medal.

That’s not what they’ve received, of course. In fact this week they got a slap in the face from our old pals at the Scottish Government, who for reasons best known to themselves have reissued long abandoned ‘Covid sense’ guidance about ‘socialising outdoors when you can’.

It doesn’t take a genius to work out the coded message here, which essentially translates as stick to the garden, or your local park, and avoid busy bars and restaurants like, well, the plague.

Meanwhile, research by the Night Time Industry Association has found that one in three late-night bars and restaurants is in fear of collapse, and that a whopping 72 per cent of Scotland’s nightlife hospitality businesses are failing to make a profit, with only 37 per cent confident they can survive another year of trading.

As NTIA vice chairman Gavin Stevenson pointed out: ‘As a direct result of the Scottish Government’s much harsher pandemic restrictions for substantially longer than was the case in England, the average sectoral Scottish business debt of £160,000 is now the worst in the UK.’ Ouch.

Yet whether making a profit or not, I can understand why some hospitality businesses have chosen to throw in the towel. Why struggle on with so many of the odds stacked against you, not to mention a government that has flip-flopped on support so many times you’d think it was Shrove Tuesday?

One of the reasons the recent guidance about socialising outdoors riled so many in the industry is that current relaxed rules around outside trading, brought in during Covid, which allow firms to open outdoor spaces without planning permission, are due to end next month. There have been no updates on what will happen next.

In the meantime once loyal and regular customers are facing their own battles, with cost of living through the roof (sympathies with any other fixed rate mortgagers who, like myself, are about to see their terms come to an end and monthly payments skyrocket) and meals out or even a few drinks with friends now firmly relegated to the ‘special occasion’ bracket.

As so often happens during times of major economic downturn, people turn inwards, preoccupied with their own struggles, unable to do more than look on with a shake of the head before returning to their own woes.

For those of us who can still stretch to the odd meal out then, it is worth making the effort to pull on those heels and faff about with a cab.