“Comments about the slave trade being a ‘Caribbean experience’, as though it’s some kind of holiday… (is) completely out of kilter with where British society is” (Halima Begum)
Coming Unstuck
A return of the stiff neck made it hard to get going Monday morning. However, I persevered with exercise, blogging and chores. Taking the recycling out, I exchanged pleasantries with neighbours. The young mum in the next terrace was in the community garden. I complemented her efforts to clear it up after 2 years of neglect. A woman from across the street joined me at the bins, commenting on the strong wind. I agreed it was rather blustery in spite of the sunshine. As the wind dropped mid-afternoon, I pottered in the garden. Three old pals I didn’t know were mutually acquainted, came walking past. We compared thoughts on coping with lockdowns, vaccines and the self-entitled government. “We’ll never get rid of them now!” we concurred. In the evening, an Ocado delivery arrived bang on time. It was good to be able to return carrier bags but they gave me a ridiculous number back, including 2 containing 1 item each!
The Daily Plague briefing was broadcast from the new press office, complete with union flags. Pat Valance presented data showing a drop in Covid hospitalisations from 30 to 6 per 100,000. The ‘stay at home order’ for England was replaced by ‘stay local’. We could meet in groups of 6 and do sport outdoors. Cock didn’t rule out foreign travel in summer even though he’d already booked his UK holiday. Scientists weren’t keen. Prof. Dame Anne Johnson, UCL said: “I’m for staycations.” Prof. Sir Mark Walport of UKRI* intoned: “the numbers (in Europe) speak for themselves.” A Panorama report on the Milton Keynes Lighthouse mega-lab discovered PCR tests in a gloopy mess. Belying predictions it would be there for weeks, the Ever Given came unstuck from the mud thus unblocking the Suez Canal.. Nevertheless, they’re gonna need a bigger canal!
The thermometer reached 25 Celsius, making Tuesday officially the hottest March day since 1968. Struggling to come round, I took it slow with gentle exercise and a bath before we set off on a rare trip to the nearest moor, via town for pasties from the bakers and to catch a bus up. Although we’d not visited for some years, we remembered the route and soon reached the ridge dotted with mysterious archaeology. Sitting near a standing stone to eat our pasties, huge sheep approached and stared us out so we didn’t linger. After exploring the landscape, we were fairly certain of the way down but double-checked with an energetic-looking couple striding along. When it looked like our path was barred, Phil insisted we had to climb further up. As we huffed and puffed, a Tornado jet came so close I ducked! I then spotted a jogger jumping a stile below and gleefully headed down the slope. As we reached the road, a bus sped past. We continued down to the country inn, looked into a friend’s garden to see if she was home and fell into conversation with the couple we’d seen on the moor. It turned out they now ran the inn and gave some gen on arrangements for re-opening and using the erstwhile pig field for extra outdoor seating. On telling us where the pigs had gone, we said “They’ve probably been turned into sausages!” Very thirsty, we squatted on the wall opposite to drink from our bottles.
“Is this the right place for the bus?” asked Phil. “No. I don’t know when the next one is. We can go up to the corner if you want.” At that moment, one trundled along the road. “Shit!” We gathered our stuff and tried to run but it was useless. Moodily, we walked down. In spite of being tired, dehydrated and at risk of heatstroke, we quickly reached town. An old biker we knew drank tinnies with a mate near the closed market. He asked us for prints of photos we’d taken of his barge adornments the other week.
After a quick call to the convenience store, we wearily trudged home. My bad ankle had been playing up on the tussocky moors and I subsequently developed sharp knee pains. Still in a huff, Phil blamed me for missing the even though I didn’t know the times back. I made a mental note to check next time so we didn’t come unstuck. (for a fuller description of the walk, see Cool Placesi).
That night, I dreamt we went on holiday to a gammon hotel where I had swimsuit dilemmas. I took it as a message to check my old ones still fit. Having lost weight in the 2 years since I last wore one, I could come unstuck in the pool!
A Nice Day for a Whitewash
The milestone of 150,000 Covid deaths in the UK, actually reached 18th March, was only just released by the ONS due to a ‘data lag’. However, half the population now had antibodies. A much-anticipated WHO report on the origin of the Wuhan outbreak concluded the virus most likely jumped from bats to another animal, but didn’t specify the pangolin. To guard against global supply issues, Novavax would be processed in County Durham, while 24 countries committed to the idea of a treaty for the next pandemic, based on WHO principles. China and the USA notably absent, Dr. Tedros expected all to sign up during negotiations. The Met unsurprisingly exonerated after an investigation by the police into the Clapham Common debacle, they admitted it was a PR disaster. The report revealed 1,500 anti-lockdowners turned up at the vigil including Piers Corbyn. Brexit pub chain Wetherspoons planned to invest £145m on new pubs and upgrades after lockdown, including Newport Pagnell. Was there anything there apart from a motorway service station? Melvin Bean was adamant the Leeds festival would go ahead: “I’m taking the PM at his word.” We’ll see about that, Mr. Bean!
Achy after Tuesday’s walk, we stayed round the house on Wednesday. Warm with sunny spells, it was a nice day to hang washing on the line, which I did for the first time this year. After lunch, I got stuck trying to come up with titles for the next journal entry, developed head fug and had to stop. Looking grimy in sunlight, we dusted the living room and Phil fetched the analogue clock down from behind the telly to get it going again. Stopped for months, it was strange to hear the tick again. I arranged some twigs to hang Eastern European eggs on and placed mad chickens round the hearth.
The number of second jabs given in a day exceeded first doses. How long immunity lasted, the chances of re-infection and the impact of variants, were all still unclear. However, scientists said the vaccine provided ‘optimal chance’ of effective anti-bodies. Germany allowed use of AZ on over 60’s only while Macron apparently ignored scientists, considering himself an ‘expert’. Spain announced that masks were required on all beaches throughout the country (count me out!) UK citizens wasted no time enjoying the spring heatwave, descending on public spaces and leaving piles of litter in their wake. Councils closed parks. Launching on the LSE, Deliveroo shares tanked by 30%. Leading fund managers such as Legal & General and Aviva rejected the listing over issues with the company’s business model, workers’ rights and regulatory concerns. A scrap metal yard fire in Sheffield would rage for days. How on earth did metal set ablaze?
The Commission for Race and Ethnic Disparities (Crud) report led by Tony Sewage, was a complete whitewash. It found the UK was an integrated society with no institutional racism and the system not rigged against minorities. No surprise with the Crud team hand-picked by fellow denier Munira Mirza. Among its recommendations were increased scrutiny of police footage of stop and search, more ethnic minority recruits and training. Roundly condemned, Halima Begum of Runnymede Trust railed: “Frankly, by denying the evidence of institutional racism and tinkering with issues like unconscious bias training and use of the term ‘BAME’…they’ve insulted every ethnic minority in this country – the people who continue to experience racism on a daily basis.” She added: “comments about the slave trade being a ‘Caribbean experience’, as though it’s some kind of holiday… (is) completely out of kilter with where British society is.” Dr. Sewage responded that suggesting the report was “trying to downplay the evil of the slave trade (was) absurd.”
Labour said the conclusions were a ‘divisive polemic’ and downplayed institutional racism. Unions called it ‘deeply cynical’ and said it denied black workers’ experiences. NHS providers claimed there was ‘clear and unmistakable’ evidence that minority ethnic staff had worse experiences and faced more barriers than whites and that denying links between structural racism and health inequalities was ‘damaging.’ They demanded concrete action to tackle bias and discrimination across public services. Sam Kasumo resigned as a top government ethnic minority adviser; Downing Street of course downplayed a connection.
No Jokes, Sleaze; We’re British
The Guardian’s report of building another Suez Canal sounded like a great idea. We had visions of a holiday pootling about on small boats while container ships used the bigger one. Alas, it was an April Fool’s joke. The weather was no joke. Grey and cold, a nithering easterly made it feel like winter again. I hurried to town where pussy willow hung over steely waters near the old bridge. The market packed with wandering hippies and not distanced gammons, I waited ages at the fish van and almost kicked a wanker behind in the queue as he edged uncomfortably close. At the toiletries stall, a woman gassed to the stallholders, making paying awkward. On the way home, I paused to take pictures of a beautiful white cherry tree in the carpark. A passing old man smiled at me: “Isn’t it lovely!” “Yes, but I’m not sure it’ll come out on my photos.” Actually, they weren’t too bad and leant themselves to monochrome rather well (see above). Working on the journal, I came up with headings and declared the first draft done at long last. I experienced another odd night, struggling to get to sleep for ages and then waking very early.
Mainly immunised, vulnerable groups no longer needed to shield. A BMJ report found only 1 in 5 people with symptoms requested a test, and the effect of TIT ‘limited’. Matt Cock was ‘very worried’ that 13.7% of those affected by the virus had long Covid. Layla Moran said it should be treated as an occupational disease and appropriate support given. Vaccine hesitancy dropped from 44% to 22% among ethnic minorities in spite of claims it broke upcoming Ramadan fasting rules (it didn’t); possibly thanks to campaigning by Lenny Henry and other celebs. France shut down schools, shops and non-local travel. Brazil borrowed £665m for vaccines and health care. Trials in the USA declared the Pfizer inoculation 100% effective on 12-15 year olds. It was later found equally effective in South Africa and to prompt a huge immune response on all variants.
Liberty Steel boss Sanjeev Gupta insisted he wasn’t closing plants. Owing billions to now-failed Greensill Capital, he was refused a government loan – they reportedly hadn’t ruled out nationalisation. Links to David Cameron emerged. Lex Greensill acted as an adviser to the former PM and subsequently, Cameron worked for Greensill, lobbying for Covid contracts on his behalf. The Office of Registrar of Consultant Lobbyists cleared him of wrongdoing because as an employee, it didn’t formally constitute lobbying. Labour’s Dodds and Reeves repeated demands for an inquiry. In the olden days, we called that type of thing sleaze.
Easter in White
Good Friday started cool but as the sun re-appeared, became much nicer than forecast. I failed to sleep in to make up for crappy nights and did free puzzles provided by Metro in lieu of news. No Pace Egg play for the second year running, Phil declared it a normal workday and was kept busy for much of it (strangely, a lot of gig work seemed to come on a Friday). Concocting a slightly different version of Aussie chocolate fruit cake, I almost forgot to add eggs and made a right mess spooning the gloopy batter out of the tin to re-mix it. But it turned out okay. While it was baking, I worked on a very slow computer, had coffee and stuffed a fig roll in my gob when there was a knock at the door. A volunteer from the local covid support group stood outside with an Easter treat bag of yellow and white daffodils, a chocolate egg and a cute card courtesy of school kids. How nice! Expressing thanks, I apologised for talking with my mouth full. “That’s alright. Fig rolls are my favourite.” “Sorry, it’s my last one. If I’d known you were coming…” “You’d have baked a cake.” “I’ve got one in the oven right now. Come back later!” I wrote up Tuesday’s walk for Cool Places and watched a suitably seasonal film. King of Kings was now so ubiquitous I could recite the dialogue. Phil cut his hair and cleaned the bathroom while I coated the cake with chocolate, properly melted this time, buttons, jazzies and mini eggs. On sampling, I asked Phil how it compared to the one I made for his birthday “I like marzipan.” Hmm!
As the Scottish ‘stay at home’ order was replaced by ‘stay local’. National Clinical Director Jason Leitch rambled on BBC Breakfast about the different rules of the 4 nations and dithered over answers on when we could travel freely around the UK. It was no surprise the so-called expert struggled with a maze of regulations across the UK. In Scotland, 4 people from 2 households could meet, outdoor non-contact sport, group exercise and communal worship (by up to 50) was already allowed. In Wales, the ‘stay local’ order was lifted on 27th March permitting travel across Wales for the Welsh only, 4 people from 2 households were already allowed to meet and outdoor sports facilities had been open since 13th March. In Northern Ireland, 6 people from 2 households could meet outdoors and 10 from no more than 2 households could do outdoor sport (including golf but not go into club houses). I doubted the Belfast rioters took any notice.
3 p.m. by the time I’d finished a series of niggly jobs Saturday, I felt glum being stuck indoors. For the second day running, it was much sunnier and warmer than expected, although some areas did experience a white Easter. At least I caught a some rays with a trip the co-op. As I headed back, Phil headed out to the convenience store. Differing requirements meant we’d had to split the shopping which irked me until he returned with an armful of roses!. It prompted us to finish cleaning the living room to make room for a vase and more mad chickens. Afternoon telly dreadful, we listened to music instead. I finally finished the Easter card I’d made him, but had a right faff printing it out.
Sunday started badly with a coffee pot disaster. The plunger of the cafetiere fell apart, promptly sinking into the hot liquid. What a palaver! Thankfully, Phil came to the rescue. Things improved as we exchanged gifts. I gave him the homemade card and an egg containing a mini bunny. On top of the roses, he’d got me prosecco truffles and made me a digital art. ‘Easter White Cherry’ represented a much better version of the blossom in the carpark than I’d managed. Early sun consumed by cloud, we ventured out regardless to pursue Phil’s mission to photograph more blossom.
Out on the street, a young neighbour washed his car after it got egged by kids. “The only egg I’ve had,” he wailed, “but I was a little bastard myself once.” “Well,” I observed, “there’s not much entertainment at the moment. They have to make their own.”
We crossed the main road, amused by bunting hanging in the Methodist church’s garden. “It was only a matter of time before Jesus and the egg came together,” Laughed Phil. Climbing above the canal, we espied angry geese chasing an interloper, a disturbing leprechaun effigy and a family trying to navigate ruined houses. Further up, a woman and girl looked for a celeb grave. “You’re on the wrong side of the valley.” As I gave directions, their dog barked ferociously and strained at the leash at the sight of a cat. Grateful it was on a lead, we continued to find colourful spring flowers, blossom and fencing. A group chatting took up the pavement and half the road, forcing us to cross. Descending near the station, the catkins of a tree growing out of a wall turned from furry to fuzzy. In the park, a delighted family posed below cherry trees. “They’ll be on Insta pretending they’re in Japan rather than West Yorkshire!” I joked. The delicate petals waved about in gusty draughts, making them very difficult to photograph. Phil berated himself: “what a stupid day to suggest a blossom mission. I might come back on a less windy day.” “You’d better be quick. It doesn’t last long.” In front of the café, families picnicked very close to the path as a large line snaked towards the serving hatch. We popped in the town centre shop, warily approached the white cherry in the carpark and gawped at people queueing at a plethora of smoky street food stalls, dawdling coffee-cuppers and a crowd in the middle of the pedestrian street dancing and singing along to a busker. “That’s all you need for a festival – a man with guitar, a kebab and a can of beer!” “It’s such a contrast to last Easter during lockdown 1. Do you remember dancing in traffic-free streets?” Meanwhile, Elder Sis posted pictures of her walk through a deserted central London. Thinking the world had descended on our little town, I later discovered there’d been a Kill the Bill demo (and also in Birmingham and Bristol, with inevitable crowds and arrests), so maybe all the Cockneys were in Finsbury Park.
Back home, Phil wrangled the bread without touching the wrapping at all like a total ninja so we could have butties for lunch. I was shocked that I’d taken tons more photos than on a country walk. Many featured blurry blossom and went straight in the bin but I found inspiration for a haigaii. At bedtime, an incredibly loud wind whipped up the second my head hit the pillow. It took some time to drop off. I dreamt I was pregnant but in denial. On waking I recalled this was often a metaphor for new projects then realised it was probably because the book I was reading featured a pregnant girl!
In his Easter message from Canterbury cathedral with a distanced choir, arch Welby said we could go with the light of Jesus and choose a better future for all. St. Peter’s square eerily empty, The Pope took mass inside the basilica. Vaccines reached 31.5m and 5.3m had a second dose. On the eve of a cabinet meeting and a Boris briefing there was speculation on traffic lights for travel and Covid passport trials (at events later in April including the FA cup final and Snooker). Tory MP Nigel Huddle said it may enable venues to open without social distancing but David Daves moaned it wasn’t ‘freedom to have a normal life’ – whatever that was…
*UK Research and Innovation
References:
i. My Cool Places blog: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/
ii My haigas: https://wordpress.com/posts/mondaymorninghaiga.wordpress.com
The Corvus Diaries 