Twelve weeks into lockdown, collectively the Turpies have been 'staying alert', sticking to the rules and have remained meticulous, if reluctant citizens of the new world order. However, as we were all assured by various members of the politburo during 'Domgate' we can in an emergency 'use our judgrment'. Up until the beginning of June we have been marooned in Buxton, two of our kids are stuck in London and one in Bournemouth. Oddly, we have stayed in touch via Zoom and Whatsapp more regularly than in normal times.
All went well until our eldest, Matthew, slipped on the stairs and broke his big toe. Usually he lives in a shared house in Brockley with three others but they drifted home as lockdown continued. Now Matthew was on his own and incapacitated; simply getting out to the shops became difficult with his foot strapped-up. He made a noble effort to struggle on and Sarah and Rob helped out with shopping. In the end we concluded the best thing to do was to drive down to London and collect him. When we decided to mount our rescue mission it was still technically contravening 'social distancing' rules, but by the time we headed south the following Tuesday the rules had been relaxed to enable one person to be included within a household's 'social bubble'. Covid 19 has spawned a whole new jargon.
Nevertheless, I guess it was a tad trangressive to call into Sarah and Rob's new flat in Hackney Wick but we were passing it on the A12 as we headed for the Blackwell Tunnel and it seemed silly not to say hello.
After admiring the new flat, complete with a shared roof garden overlooking the Olympic stadium, we took a stroll through Victoria Park. Ralph (the sausage dog) appears to have made many new four-legged friends.
Their twenty-something owners were chatty - all bright young things enjoying the Hackney lifestyle. after sharing this vibrant social space that it struck us how much we live in a town with an ageing demographic. Of course we are part of it but that is no consolation whatsoever.
So for the next few weeks no longer are we living in splendid isolation. Our enforced quiet life is now enlivened by the sound of Zoom meetings from Matthew's bedroom and banging and sawing from the garden as our new dining room finally begins to take shape. With the new kitchen due to be installed in the first week of August we have a whole summer of disruption to look forward to.
It will be nice when it's finished, as they say. Meanwhile on sunny days we endeavour to escape the chaos and appreciate what we have on our doorstep, which is the Peak District. This is a lovely thing and something we have come to value even more over recent weeks.
Finally, it's looking ever more certain that campsites will re-open in early July. We are planning a trip down to the New Forest, well two trips actually, picking-up Laura and Connor from Bouremouth so we can celebrate Laura's 25th with her at home.
Our thoughts are also turning to what we might do in the autumn. The level of uncertainty about travel has put the kibosh on our original plan to drive back to Greece through Croatia, Montenegro and Albania. Even our less ambitious alternative - to explore Sardinia - feels a tad ambitious. I have a feeling we might make things easy for ourselves and book the ferry from Portsmouth to Santander. Even though we have spent a lot of time in Iberia in recent years there are still parts of it that we have not visited - such as Madrid! Moreover, our visit to 'Green Spain' in 2016 coincided with storms and torrential rain, so a revisit there is tempting. We shall see.