I’ve scrapped my last diary. Started again. Hoping this one’s better than the last. And really, who cares or even remembers when the first Chinaman who ate that iffy bat, well past its sell-by, succumbed to the Chaina-virus? It’s a bit irrelevant. So although we went into ‘lockdown’ yesterday, I went into work, just to finalise things a bit, making this, for me, Day 1. Home, and here I’ll stay.

Yesterday I decided not to take the tube into town. Because Transport for London, in their infinite wisdom decided to put on a ‘special service’. Which is a euphemism for ‘not a very good service’. One train every 10 minutes or so. On Monday the tube was fine. Very few people on regular tubes. But with Sadiq Khan’s ‘special service’ they were forcing the people on with crow bars. Funny that; the less trains you run the more people are on them. Who’d’a known? So much for ‘social separation’ when you’re chewing the next strap-hanger’s ear-lobe.

So I did something that proved how unbelievably out of the ordinary these times are, and drove in to the City. There was no traffic. It was wonderful. Other than a few Islington Literalists. They’re the people who actually believe that London’s most loony borough’s blanket ‘20mph!!!!’ speed limit actually has to be taken seriously. Tossers. Then I found the true pot of gold at the end of any imaginary, fantasy-world rainbow, a place to park, for free. Which doesn’t in fact exist anywhere in the Square Mile, but if you know the right people (car park attendants are much more useful than company CEOs), it can happen. Not like the car park in question was in any way ‘busy’.

So we went for an early walk today in the gorgeous sunshine. Long walk, round the Heath. Avoiding people like… well, like the plague, which it kind’a is. We went early for our allotted ‘one exercise per day’ because of Rachie who, banned from Berlin and thus isolating with us, is part of our household unit once more so we’re allowed to share all diseases. And she starts work at 9. On the couch, but that’s her workstation. For her morning ‘meeting’ with all the ‘Germans’. Most of whom aren’t German at all and never have been. And most of whom are now in London, Stockholm, Montreal, Istanbul or wherever.

Then I went to my tai chi class. (Shock! Horror!! Sinner!!! SPREADER!!!!) Which took place in my kitchen. On my iPad. And was brilliant. We hook up on Zoom twice a day and fight the good fight. Not against each other, we can no longer do that without facing arrest, but against boredom, against stiffness, against everything that is bad. And yeah, Lila did a class too. But doing yoga when you’re (nearly) 3 is such a cheat.

Happy isolation

A xxxx