LETTERS FROM LOCKDOWN
It would be a shame if everyone decided to stop booking cruises for fear of getting trapped by another pandemic
Has anyone else got handwashing fatigue? To begin with, I was as keen as a boy scout. A furious neurotic scrubbing, 20 seconds minimum, more times a day than I could count. Soon my hands were so red and ragged, they looked like lobster claws.
After a few weeks, though, that kind of diligence becomes hard to sustain. You get bored and start to cheat. Cut corners. Sing Happy Birthday at Pinky and Perky-speed, just to get it over with.
If you do find yourself slacking off, here’s a tip. Instead of singing Happy
Birthday to yourself, sing it to Picasso.
Or, to give him his full name: Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno Crispín Crispiniano María Remedios de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz Picasso.
Once you’ve finished singing all that, your hands will definitely be germ-free. Probably skin-free, too.
Two weeks now the pubs have been shut. Feels longer, somehow. Just been thinking back to the morning after they were all ordered to close. To clear out its remaining stock, the micropub down the road from us turned itself into a kind of takeaway, for one day only. Sign outside in chalk: “PANIC BUY YOUR BEER HERE!!”
Inside were a couple of middle-aged men, who’d brought as many empty, four-pint milk containers as they could carry, and were now having them filled with obscure Kentish ales and porter.
We didn’t have any empty milk containers at home.
All I could find to bring, embarrassingly, was an empty bottle of rosé. So effete. I felt like Niles from Frasier. “Good day, madam. Might you be so kind as to fill my wine bottle with whatever rousing bluecollar beverage is contained within that barrel?”
Meanwhile, the two men were wondering what on earth we were all meant to do with ourselves, now that the pubs were gone, and there was no sport on TV.
“Gardening,” said one at last, blankly. “I suppose I’ll be doing a lot of gardening.”
He said it as if the full horror were only just dawning on him.
When all this is finally over, I hope the cruise industry recovers. It would be a shame if everyone decided to stop booking cruise holidays, for fear of getting trapped onboard by another pandemic.
I love cruises. Not just because everything that you need – restaurants, bars, swimming pools, sun-loungers, spas, shops, cinemas – is only ever a short waddle away. It’s also because cruises are such great value, especially if you’re not very well-travelled. Within the space of only a week, you can tick off visits to half a dozen different countries. Hop on board the coach, have a quick peep at the local ruins, then back to the ship for more cocktails. I think of it as the
Match of the Day way of seeing the world: just the edited highlights.
Some might call me lazy. I would say efficient.
Is it over with yet?
Handwash fatigue, coping without the pub, and fingers crossed for cruises