Summer and Autumn 2020

Through the first lockdown and then the easing of restrictions the allotments were a lifeline for Sue, and I also came to value the steady stream of fresh veggies they produced, such as tomatoes, fava beans and tons of green salad stuff.  One of my favourites was radicchio di Treviso, the long, dark red and bitter tasting endive that is almost impossible to find in the UK, but is highly prized in Italy and is fantastic oven roasted in olive oil as an accompaniment to a big juicy rare steak.

By the time our birthdays in July we were actually able to have a birthday meal in a local pub and also begin to meet our friend Beryl again for our monthly lunchtime get togethers.  For Sue's birthday I gave her the money to buy a second shed for her allotment at nearby Fleming Drive, which we built together in September.

In October, increasingly desperate for a break from our narrow existence in Newark we booked an airbnb in Bridlington, for the price that we would usually have paid for a week in the sunny Mediterranean.  Actually, it did provide a much-needed break from our routine and Poppy got to have walks on the beach for the first time.  The fish and chips were excellent and on we also got to meet up with Sue's old friend Alan, who was slowly getting his life back together after the death of his wife Theresa following a long illness.

Most days we had an outing, one of which was to the RSPB Bempton Cliffs seabird centre.  It was a very cold and windy day and the stiff breeze cut right through my thin anorak, but it was perfect weather to observe the gannet colony.  Such an inelegant name for such beautiful creatures, I got lots of photos as they rode the winds around the cliffs below us.  Later that day we drove on to Scarborough and had sandwiches and crisps in an almost deserted hotel where the staff were glumly anticipating the closure restaurants and pubs again in the face of rising Covid infections.

Each day I either had a morning run or took Poppy for a walk on the beach.  I took this shot with my iphone on our last day in Bridlington, before we drove back over the Humber bridge to Newark.

First lockdown

Writing this from the perspective of January 2021 it's already hard to remember the speed with which the Covid 19 story went from being an unsettling footnote to the daily news, to the shock of the UK lockdown at the end of March.  On the Friday before the lockdown I was conducting a funeral where I was in a tiny funeral director's "chapel" with a dozen or so mourners, cheek by jowl with the coffin.  Later we went on to the Tithe Green natural burial ground where we were joined by more mourners, one of whom was presciently warning everyone to take great care.

Also writing this after the event I'm now suddenly aware how the pandemic has imposed a common narrative on humankind.  In that first lockdown we were allowed out for exercise just once per day and I remember that strange sense of threat I felt just walking around all to familiar places.  In fact Sue and I adapted quickly, agreeing that we would take our exercise separately, with one of us walking Poppy on alternate days, to get the most bang for our once a day buck.  On my Poppy days I'd take her for an eight kilometre walk, usually along the banks of the Trent, using my other day for a longish run.

After the first week or two, desperate to get some variety, I pressed the motorbike into service for my food shopping trips.  One thing that made that first lockdown bearable was a feeling we shared that we were actually incredibly lucky compared with so many.  Our move from Italy, the sale of the apartment and purchase of a spacious enough house with access to the countryside, Sue's acquisition of two allotments (for which demand rocketed after lockdown) and our decision to adopt Poppy, had all been incredibly timely and made everything much more bearable than it would have been had even one of these ingredients been missing.  On top of that our finances are secure, at least assuming the World economy continues to survive in something like its current form.

Christmas and New Year 2019/20

In early December Sue got news that her friend Annisha, who was one of the feisty group of teachers she mentored in Sarawak, was coming to the UK for a holiday with her daughter and her cousin Leeza and her family.  We decided to meet them all in London and to take them out for lunch as a way of repaying a tiny fraction of the hospitality Annisha gave to us during our stay in Saratok in 2011-13.  We met them all at the V&A and then had the tricky task of finding somewhere to take seven people who only eat halal in Knightsbridge a few days before Christmas.  As luck would have it we found a Lebanese restaurant with an enterprising Russian manager who organised a fixed price lunch for us around a big back-room table.  We had a really convivial meal and Sue and Annisha's bond, was instantly renewed, as it had been when we met for that wonderful barbecue by the South China Sea in February 2018. 

We had another quiet Christmas, away from the stresses of a big family affair, spent in Newark and focussing on big lunches, afternoon walks and Quality Street.  Then, on 28 December we drove over to Macclesfield for a party given by our friend Patrick and his children at a local pub.  It was good to catch up with him, all his children and his lovely mum Mo as well as tucking in to a serious pub buffet with enough saturated fat to sink a battleship.

Having moved to a new house we decided that we would get another dog, our first since Milly in Puglia who died in 2010.  This is a big thing for us as we know that having a dog also tends to tie us more to home and means fewer, or at least shorter, travels.  We first went to the RSPCA dog rescue centre on the outskirts of Nottingham in 2020 and were a bit let down to find they didn't actually have any dogs that needed re-homing.  We tried again in January, expecting to find they still had none, and were surprised to find Poppy, a two-year old Pomeranian, who had been on the verge of being adopted by another lady earlier that day who found she was allergic to the dog's fur.  I must say I'd been thinking more of a robust wire-haired mongrel called something like "Ralph" but I took one look at Poppy and she instantly reminded me of Milly's favourite playmate in Puglia, a delightful little dog called "Bruno".  Anyway, we said we'd like to adopt her and a couple of weeks later, we picked up this small barky bundle of joy and took her home.