A year ago, this was our last normal week
WHO would ever have imagined that this time last year the country and indeed the world would change forever. At midnight on Friday, March 13, clubs and bars here were ordered to close indefinitely. Many didn’t actually believe it would happen so I went into the heart of Benidorm, to ‘club land’ to witness it first-hand.
Vanloads of local and National Police started arriving around the square just before the appointed hour and then I think it really began to dawn on people that this was serious.
The following morning I drove back into Benidorm and everything appeared fairly normal, with groups on the beaches. The resort was quite busy, as it was Cheltenham week. Throughout that week, the poolside of the Marina hotel was ram-packed, with their mega screen broadcasting the races and the sun was blazing.
Yet by lunchtime something changed - the beaches were cleared by the police and taped off, causing a ripple of concern among people. Holidaymakers were being advised to rearrange flights to get back quickly or risk being stranded, and rumours quickly escalated that Spain would be going into lockdown.
There was pandemonium on numerous Benidorm campsites with many of the residents told to leave as communal facilities were closed off. Those without running water and wash facilities were ordered off. This was their home and they had nowhere else to go. Some managed to rent apartments, others had to go back to the UK and stay with family, thinking or at least hoping it was just a short term issue.
We could only go out, one per household for food shopping and there were instances of police asking shoppers where they lived and for ID actually in the supermarket! I remember taking it in turns to do the weekly shop with my son. Lists would have to be made for him and he’d follow it to a T.
I on the other hand would spy something that wasn’t on the list but knew it would be needed and into the trolley it went.
We were meant to use our nearest supermarket too. I was never stopped but without question, my son always was, usually by the National Police wanting to know why he was out. He’d show the receipt but they’d physically ask to see the shopping, which was never a problem - I suppose they thought it unusual for a 20something young man to be doing a weekly family food shop!
There were police roadblocks, with drivers being questioned, where they lived and the purpose of their journey.
I vividly remember one such stop by the National Police going into Benidorm to do a report for this very newspaper and they were brutal, firing me 101 questions. I got lost halfway through and wondered if he’d just said I could or couldn’t go.
What to do? I thought I’d soon find out if I interpreted his no for a yes, as he’d probably shoot my tyres out with the gun he had gripped in his hands. I was actually too scared to go back the same way so chose a different route to get home as I decided that my nerves couldn’t handle another interrogation.
We couldn’t leave the house to go for walks, although having a dog we were allowed within a very short radius of the house. The police would drive around our estate regularly, but masked up, as is now our norm, they’d spot London (my chow) sashaying along and nod to me, indicating it was ok to be out. I’d briskly walk around the house for ten minutes three times a day for exercise and noticed some of my neighbours doing the same. We were the lucky ones with a garden at least but still felt trapped and suffocated.
We’ve come a long way from then, but still a long way off of what is considered our usual normal, if that makes sense.
The 22.00 curfew is a strange one. Not normally out late anyway, especially at this time of the year, but come the warmer weather and longer days, then that will change matters.
I’m currently on a get-fit regime, or trying to be, to lose those lockdown pounds so I go for a brisk walk most evenings along Albir front before curfew time. It is virtually deserted, bar the odd dog walker or enthusiastic runner.
The bars and restaurants, normally brightly lit with music and laughter permeating the promenade, are dark and devoid of life because of the current 18.00 restriction… a sad shadow of its former self.
As vaccines are rolled out we can only hope and pray that life as we remembered it will slowly return. Flights will resume and we will be able to travel – feels impossible at the moment but that day will come.
We will once again be able to make plans for the future even. It has certainly made most of us reassess our lives and priorities – what is and isn’t important.
One thing we have all learnt I believe is that family is the single most valued thing we have and desperately missed during these last 12 months. www.benidormallyearround.com