I’m sure
that lots of people are, or will be, writing about the corona virus epidemic: not
surprisingly since the news is chock-a-block with articles, reports, opinions
and so forth. I am no expert of course (there seem to be more than enough of
those around) but thought it would be worth recording my own experiences and
feeling whilst the crisis unwinds. If you’ve had enough of this whole topic
then ignore the CV diaries: normal service will be resumed … as soon as possible.
News of the
outbreak of the infection came in December 2019, its origin being in Wuhan,
China, a city that my wife and I visited during one of out teaching stints in
that country. Known as the oven of China it was certainly a hot place, but I
have no strong memories of it and cannot find my notes on that visit. When we
heard the news I was already arranging our travel details for a trip to Taiwan,
Vietnam, Cambodia and Australia. Should we have abandoned that trip in the
light of the news? That really never occurred to us. The Wuhan virus seemed to
be something local to China and, though we had a very brief stopover in Beijing
en route to Taiwan, no precautions were even suggested as we took off on the
sixth of January 2020.
As our trip
progressed, awareness of the virus could be tracked by the proportion of people
wearing face masks. These are not uncommon in Asia anyway, but during January
and February their use grew and grew so that even I tried to purchase some in
Ho Chi Min City. This was not easy, many convenience stores had sold out by that
time. Nonetheless I was derided for wearing one in a hotel in Phnom Penh by a
fellow visitor and one Cambodian told me that his country was too hot for the
virus! In Australia we heard that only one person had tested positive for the infection
and the only people wearing masks there were Chinese.
How things
can change is such a short time. We returned to the UK at the beginning of
March and found the country pretty much unfazed, but fear was growing - albeit
quietly. The first death from the
disease was reported a few days after our return and another soon followed: both
had what soon became a common term ‘underlying health conditions’ and were in
their late seventies and early eighties. Two things followed that. On a
personal front I decided that the sooner I contacted the disease and got the
whole thing over with, one way or the other, the better. Then the government
and its advisers became more engaged and seem to agree with me: the sooner
sufficient people became immune the better - even though some would die in the
process.
That
initiative did not last long, it was followed by serious warnings to those most
at risk to isolate themselves and for those likely to be a load on the NHS (particularly
the over 70s) to take similar precautions – that included myself and
Margaret. Meanwhile my main activities
in Oxford were being wiped out by the virus and through government warnings. Tours
were being cancelled at an exponential rate, I only took out two groups in
Oxford after our return from Australia, and the last, on the 15th of
March, was for just three people rather than the usual 15-19! It was also clear
that my Samaritan shifts would have to go; I did my last on the same day as
that final tour. That was also my final weekend in Oxford – and it was great.
We attended a wonderful concert featuring the music of Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky
and Borodin on the Saturday evening and a great open-mike night at the Harcourt
Arms on the Sunday. Next day we moved down to our house in Stow-on-the-Wold for
no one knows how long.
How did I
feel? Mixed emotions really. Though I prefer to spend much of my time in
Oxford, we do have a very nice house in Stow and, with the vegetable garden and
our very own field I would have plenty to do. And, though I realise that for many social isolation is a
frightening and depressing prospect, for me it seemed a little bit of an
adventure.
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