One big outdoor party?

Yesterday it actually began to feel like spring. The sun was shining, the daffs were out and everyone flocked to the beaches, the parks, the commons and any other open space they could access. But hang on: aren’t we all supposed to be social-distancing?

It’s a big deal losing our cherished routines, livelihoods, freedoms and loved ones, and we’re all collectively grieving about our communal loss. But as we know, there are five stages to grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

And we’re all very firmly in the Denial phase. 

I was horrified to see how many people were out and about yesterday. But I was out and about to see it, right? Brian, Robbie and I met up with another couple and their son. It was great to interact with Other People for a change but at the same time, we did feel a little space-invaded. None of our three intelligent friends seemed to be taking the coronavirus threat seriously – they were walking too close to us and opening frequently-touched gates with their bare hands, resisting all offers of hand sanitiser.

The powers-that-be claim we are fighting an “invisible enemy’ – the hardest type of enemy to fight”. Personally I wouldn’t fancy my chances against a visible enemy, either – particularly if it were in the form of a club-wielding troll or a sabre-toothed tiger. But there’s certainly a reduced sense of urgency when it comes to fighting a foe one can't see.

Boris Johnson has now given us a good old telling off and announced that if we don’t start self-distancing in the next 24 hours, we’ll all have to sit on the naughty step. Provided that naughty step happens to be inside our own houses, that is.

The UK at the weekend felt like one big outdoor party, but it also had the air of a “goodbye-to-the-world party”. So buckle up folks: the long, dark lock-in is about to begin.