CHARLES WOOLEY
My crystal ball has become very cloudy of late. Some mean-spirited readers have been telling me to review previous opinions in the light of what’s happening now.
But, as ScoMo said, “Who could have seen COVID-19 coming?”
Last year I thought our greatest danger lay in the global ambitions of the jackbooted, goose-stepping totalitarian regime in China. The pictures of their nationalistic military parades reminded me too much of the Nuremberg rallies in prewar Germany.
I was blinded by history. The real threat turned out to be not the tanks and missiles, nor the two million soldiers under arms, but an enemy so small we need a powerful microscope to see it.
The inability of the Chinese regime to maintain basic food hygiene and health standards for its people has turned out to be the thing that might kill us all.
Events are moving so fast, by the time you read this it might be much worse, so this week I have recruited my son David as my foreign correspondent. He reports from his home in the lovely town of Tremosine on the sublimely beautiful Lago di Garda in Lombardy, the northern province of Italy where coronavirus was first detected in that country.
He lives there with his Italian girlfriend, Veronica, and the Berasi family, who run their own hotel business. Dave runs the bar (even half a world away, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree), but now the Hotel Stella D’Oro has been closed at the height of the tourist season and my son has plenty of time on his hands for reflection.
His report today suggests where we might be tomorrow ...
Here in Italy, every morning we wake to new, tighter restrictions to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic.
In late February, authorities recognised patient one, here in the Lombardy region, and the spread of the virus has been devastating. Now, as Italy scrambles to deal with this pandemic, I watch it unfold in the rest of the world and it seems to be only a few weeks behind us.
The UK continues to delay the inevitable closure of schools, businesses and events, as do many European nations. In America it becomes harder each day for Trump to play down the danger of this virus.
Back home in Tassie, they were letting in Italian cruise ships and Chinese tourists alike. It is likely to have been a short-lived naivety that will surely lead to disasters.
Lombardy is the wealthiest region in Italy. It also brags the best healthcare in the country, one of the best in Europe. That system is now completely overwhelmed.
Doctors are being called out of retirement and nurses fast-tracked through their training. The Italian Government has implemented drastic and never before seen measures to relieve the burdened healthcare system. A complete lockdown is being rigorously enforced.
The lockdown was initially restricted to the Lombardy region, and is now extended to the entire country. People are not allowed to leave their commune. Only essential movement within one’s district is permitted. With the correct paperwork, it is possible to leave the house to buy food or medicine. All non-essential stores and services have been closed. We are told to stay home.
The virtue signalling woke community has taken to social media with #iostoacasa (I stay at home) and takes great pride shaming those who have snuck out for an aperitivo or been found beyond the borders of their towns of residence. Along with public disgrace, the fine is 206 Euro and up to three months arrest.
Even a pair of skis in the back of the car will land you a fine. It is all part of the state’s initiative to keep the population safe and relieve the load on hospitals.
Such a crisis can expose a nation’s true colours. When news of the lockdown leaked, panicked Italians emptied supermarket pasta shelves in moments, and it’s hard to find a ripe tomato anywhere. Nonno (Italian for granny) is extending the vegetable garden and folks are cleaning their hunting rifles. And, naturally, the
Catholic Church is asking patrons to dig deeper into their pockets, to get through these hard times. Doomsday prepping is well underway.
Meanwhile, news has arrived in Europe that Australians are preparing for mass diarrhoea.
The small town of Tremosine, in which I live, is on the northern border of Lombardy; our mountain ridges represent the end of the highly infected region.
With a set of snow chains and a fourwheel drive, one can easily use a wartime route to avoid the border roadblocks on the main roads. Don’t. The local council has sent out videos and information to the 1300 residents, outlining our civil responsibilities.
People are staying home, there are no children playing in the piazza. Aperitivo has been indefinitely cancelled and the only people to be seen are outside the pharmacy, waiting, surgical masks donned, maintaining the recommended one-metre safety distance from each other.
Tremosine’s citizens are behaving. More than can be said for Tassie’s infamous coronavirus clubber, ironically studying a diploma of leadership. It would appear that he’s leading you all into a situation similar to ours.
In Tremosine, many brushed off the virus, the rhetoric being that the mortality rate is low and it only poses a threat to the elderly. My girlfriend’s Nonna Sofia yells down from her second story balcony; she’s offended by the sentiment and rightfully scared of the virus.
She won’t come down and certainly will not let us up. However, the effects of the virus are not limited to the elderly.
“I’m terrorised,” says a friend who is heavily pregnant. “I’m not far off and I don’t know where I can go.” Another Tremosine resident with an untreated broken ankle was told to stay home.
People here can’t believe how quickly everything went to “merda”. No work, no income, no freedom. An entire country of people detained, waiting at home to see how it all plays out. My father has capitalised on my new-found spare time, and recruited me to do his job for him. But now it’s the weekend and I’m meeting a few friends for a beer on Skype.