Covid

 For just over a week, I had the doubtful pleasure of having a corona-virus infection. Fortunately, I took all available vaccinations, so the effects were not too severe. Fatigue, shortness-of-breath and general malaise. The dreaded double line on the lateral flow test said it all. I was pleased when it returned to single-line working, to use a railway expression. Apart from the physical unwellness, Covid also gives you a sense of anxiety, as in 'how bad is this going to get'. I hope not to get it again - but that's out of my control.

Covid-19

Today is the third anniversary of the first lockdown in the Covid-19 pandemic. We shall all remember that period vividly, but more to the point, we shall never forget those lost to the disease. Here in the UK, some 200,000 died of coronavirus, which was not brought under control until the end of 2021, when vaccinations meant the restrictions could finally be lifted. All that was still far in the future, that strange Monday in March 2020. 

No shops open, other than those deemed essential, such as supermarkets. What normally only took me 10 minutes now took me 90. Queuing outside Tesco as far back as Ferry Road. Once in the shop, keep a 2-metre distance to the customer in front. Bring a list, drawn up in sequence of items on the shelves, and don't you dare forget that item in aisle 4, because once past, you'd need to ask a member of staff to pick it up for you. No doubling back allowed. Then, a long queue for the check-out.

Masks were not yet compulsory, that came in the following July. Public transport at a virtual standstill, travel only being permitted if absolutely essential. Buses only available for essential workers, and the Thursday evening clap-a-thon for the NHS. As we have since learned, these rules were blithely ignored by those at the top of (UK) government. The deathrates skyrocketed to a frightening 1,500 a day across the UK. 

Spring 2020 was very sunny, and there was ample opportunity to go out for the daily hour's exercise. It was so strange, the normally busy streets of Stornoway empty of people - something previously only seen on a Sunday. Shops closed, and hardly anybody about. The usual events of summer, such as the agricultural shows and the Hebridean Celtic Festival, were all cancelled. No visitors to the island - at all.

I have come to call the year 2020 the Year of Silence.

Remember the toilet-paper shortages? 16 March 2020


Queueing system outside Tesco, 26 March 2020


Cromwell Street, Stornoway, 3.10pm, 26 March 2020


Closed shop, Bells Road, Stornoway, 26 March 2020


An Lanntair, 2 May 2020


In praise of the NHS, 21 May 2020


A sunny but derelict South Beach carpark, 6 May 2020

In memory of all, lost to the Covid-pandemic, here in UK and around the world. 

Happy New Year

 The year 2023 has arrived. Let us hope that it will be more positive than 2022 turned out to be. However, the same was hoped for at the start of 2020, 2021 and 2022. With all the turmoil that wracked the world over the past three years, we shall just have to take things as they come. 

The war in Ukraine will probably drag on, with Putin having dug himself into a position which can best be described as Death or Victory. 

Covid seems to be making a resurgence in China, and several countries are requiring tests from travellers from that nation. Don't for one minute think that coronavirus has gone away. It is still here, and if you've been vaccinated, count yourself lucky.

Coronavirus - two years on

 On Thursday, 24 March, it will be two years since the United Kingdom was placed under lockdown on account of the coronavirus pandemic. I vividly remember the sunsplashed but empty streets of Stornoway, a total absence of visitors and no cruiseliners - whereas in previous years, up to 40 liners would call through the summer. Having to wait in a queue outside Tesco for up to 45 minutes on one occasion, and having to take an hour to go through the store. I recall shuffling through Tesco, 7 feet apart from the previous and the next customer, having to write up the shopping list in exact sequence - because if I forgot to pick up the mayonnaise in aisle 4, and did not think about it until aisle 6, I'd have to ask a member of staff to please go and pick it up for me. Having to wait at aisle 12 to be called to a checkout. Hardly any shops open, public transport severely limited - but hardly any cases here in the Western Isles. The horror stories from the mainland, with up to 1500 deaths each day, and heartrending accounts of people dying by the dozen in carehomes - like the one in Portree, 50 miles south of Stornoway in Skye - without any loved ones to hold their hand in their final moments.

The year 2021 brought hope in the shape of vaccinations, and the restrictions gradually eased. Visitors started to return to the isles, mostly in motorhomes (much to the aggravation of many locals), but no cruiseliners. The deathtoll continued to rise, and currently stands at 150,000 across the UK. Although the numbers of deaths or severe cases of Covid have gone down substantially, thanks to the vaccinations, here in the isles, we have been hitting high numbers in recent days, up to 155 on one day last week. The demographics have shifted to children, with many new cases among primary school age pupils. 

The war in Ukraine, with a potential for becoming a world-war conflagration, has eclipsed coronavirus from the headlines. The pandemic has not gone away, and a new round of vaccinations is starting across the country. In Scotland, we are still required to wear facemasks in an indoor, public setting. 

I started 2020 with trepidation. This, the third decade of the 21st century, is fulfilling that promise of being a period of concern, and I'll go so far as to say - we ain't seen nothing yet.

Covid - January 2022

Just off the phone to family in Holland. Only 4 people can meet there indoors at any one time, meaning that any birthday celebrations or whatever have to be staggered over several days. Nice for any birthday person, but quite a strong contrast with the (literally) laissez-faire attitudes that have become the norm here in the UK.

Compare these figures.
Number of new cases per day in Holland: 40,000
Number of new cases per day in the UK: 70,000
There are 4 times as many people in the UK as there are in Holland

Daily number of deaths in Holland: 10
Daily number of deaths in the UK: 300

Pro rata, there are double the number of cases in the Netherlands as compared to the UK, but the UK has almost 8 times as many deaths. Looks like the lockdown in Holland does have an effect....

Pants

 The British Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, has been caught with his pants down. A flurry of revelations about parties in 10 Downing Street (the Prime Minister's residence in London) during lockdown have forced him to publicly apologise. That has not stopped the torrent of revelations. On each occasions, people spoke to the media about the losses they suffered during the pandemic. It is galling, to say the least, that those in the inner circle of the Prime Minister were carousing, whilst others had to say goodbye to their dying relatives and friends by videolink. What probably really angered Johnny Public was the party on the eve of the funeral of the Duke of Edinburgh on April 17th, 2021. The image of the Queen, sitting alone in a pew, mask on, preparing to pay her final respects to her husband of more than 70 years, is seared in everybody's memory. 

Still, when called to account, ministers of the state refer to an inquiry, led by senior civil servant Sue Gray. I'll be damned if they don't all know what happened. The apologies sound hollow, and were only elicited because people were found out. If there had been no leak, no apology would have been forthcoming. 

It is redolent of a terrible attitude, the first whiff of which was discerned when BJ's former adviser Dominic Cummings drove to Barnard Castle in County Durham - to test his eyesight. One rule for us, and another rule for the rest of the plebs. And the Queen, who dutifully obeyed the lockdown rules, is treated like plebs too. 

No. 

Prime Minister, you're a disgrace. Pull up your big boy pants and follow the injunction by the leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition and make way for someone who is better suited to the job.

Covid in church

Happy New Year from A cobbled Road.

Sunday church services often start with the bell being rung. In days gone by, it would be the signal to the townspeople to come to the service. To watch a socially distanced church service on-line, with only the vicar, officebearers and two musicians present - and still the churchbell is being rung. To signal the start of the service. It is an eerie sound, almost empty of meaning.

In the past, the churchbell would also be rung to warn of danger. I am reminded of Pathe-footage of the 1953 flood in southwestern Holland (where 2,000 people drowned), with the sound of distant church bells ringing out across the flooded miles to warn of the dangers of the waters. Is it now to warn NOT to come to church because of the dangers of Covid?

From 700 miles away, the heavy peal of the Peters Bell in Cologne cathedral echoes through my mind.

NaBloPoMo - 29 November

 They've raided the Greek alphabet again, for another Covid-variant of concern. Omicron, some people inadvertently call it Onmicron. The official name is Omicron B.1.1.2.529. That of course anagrams into No Crimbo. We shall see. The uncertainty continues, and everybody is looking after number 1. Here in the Western Isles, we had a blow from the north. Nothing out of the ordinary, but northerly winds kick up a swell in the Minch, so we had no ferry for about 12 hours. That throws the supply lines out of whack, and we were consequently treated to empty shelves in the supermarket. My pic of that elicited a frenzied response on Facebook, and I am now subject to post approval in the relevant group. Looks like I'm blamed for what other people write. Or I am blamed for causing the discussion in the first place. I suppose it is a sure sign of acceptance, but what would you expect after 17 years in Lewis. 

 

NaBloPoMo #6

The weekend has been punctuated by windy and at times wet weather, but at the moment of typing (Sunday evening, 9.30pm), we have lost the wind. It has had an impact on the ferry services, affected by swell conditions - although I cannot imagine that conditions were all that swell once out to sea. I don't mind a good blow every once in a while. It's November, and that's the time of year we get them. 

Covid is still on the march in this island, with well over thirty cases each day. Most of them youngsters. The vaccination campaign appears to keep the lid on numbers of hospitalisations. We are not rid of it. 

Last night saw a pretty high tide, and we were on warning for potential flooding. When I went out at the point of high water, the levels remained below the quays, and all the fuss was precautionary - but fortunately for nothing.

NaBloPoMo #04

A quiet day here in the Outer Hebrides, a lull before the storm that will hit us over the weekend. We are under warning for gusts of up to 80 mph (130 kph). That's not uncommon, but needs to be treated with caution.

Last night, the Aurora Borealis put up a brilliant display, it would appear, but I was not aware in time. Seems to have been one of the best displays in years. Sigh.

Covid is ramping up its advance through the ranks of the young, with the majority of new cases among children. I am taking a lateral-flow test twice a week, but have thus far managed to avoid the virus.

We now have another case of musical ferries, with the MV Arrow in place this week to carry freight back and forth. MV Loch Seaforth, our regular boat, is on the Mersey for its annual refit. The passengers travel on the MV Isle of Lewis, an aging vessel dating back to 1995, with the freight (until the Arrow came) going on the MV Hebridean Isles, which is even older: built in 1985. The Loch Seaforth is due back next week.

Covid - August 2021

So we had 12 new cases of Covid in the Western Isles yesterday. Reading that back, I'd prefer 12 new cases of beer, wine or uisge-beatha, but never mind.

Co-dhiù (anyway), I was remembering last year between March and July. Arrive outside Tesco, and dreading the queue. You could be expected to wait for an hour and a half before even getting in the door. Then, it was a socially distanced shuffle round the shop. Absolutely no doubling back to pick something you'd forgotten or only that moment thought of. Going round the heads of the aisles, you were under no circumstances permitted to scoot across from aisle 4 to aisle 6. If you had forgotten your cans of soup after crossing into aisle 6 (you have to know the layout of Tesco Stornoway to appreciate this), you'd have to go without - or ask a member of staff to get it for you. Well, I'll always praise Tesco staff for being helpful, and they excelled themselves during that period. What remains today, is queuing up aisle 12 to wait to be called to a till.

Do we also remember the toilet-paper panic? The soap panic? Some unfortunate souls had to wipe with yesterday's edition of the Sun (insert name of your own reviled daily rag). Awww, the lovely days of yore. The days you couldn't even go on the ferry, other than for essential purposes. The days people couldn't come to the island other than for essential purposes. Number of Covid cases in Stornoway during that time? Zero, if I recall.

And here we are in August 2021. Tourists flooding into the island with their motorhomes, and it's not the sorts we're used to. If this is the way Brits behave in Ibiza, Magaluf or Aya Napa, then I pity the poor souls that have to be hospitable to them over there. Bet they're breating a sigh of relief. 

Covid and death

This afternoon, I had to wait at the roundabout by Engebretsen for traffic to clear. One vehicle attracted my attention. A hearse, with a coffin. As it rounded the roundabout, I took off my hat and briefly bowed my head at the hearse. The driver acknowledged my mark of respect in likewise fashion before proceeding to the final resting place of the deceased.

In these days of Covid, people are only allowed to attend the interment in a graveyard by invitation. The general public are permitted to line the road near the person's last residence as the cortège moves off, but no such time or place was mentioned in this instance. Judging by the information in the funeral notice, I suspect that the gentleman in question had returned home (that is local parlance for coming back to the island) after his death, to be laid to rest in his native soil. I would be profoundly sad if it was the case that only a chance passer-by at a traffic roundabout and the undertakers were able to pay their final respects on the way. I did not know Mr Kenneth M. Macleod, who had lived in Carishader, Stornoway and Leith. May he rest in peace.

Coronavirus in the Outer Hebrides

For some time, I have not posted about coronavirus. I am doing so now, because it has come close. I'm not worried for myself, but for our small, remote and vulnerable communities. Not just in South Uist and Eriskay, but right across our islands. It brings it into sharp focus that this is not over. Worldwide, one million people have now died of coronavirus, and there is no sign of this slowing down. A large degree of complacency has crept in, including here in the Outer Hebrides, and myself not excluded. We have to REFOCUS, and if necessary, accept another lockdown. 

The lifting of lockdown

So there are now dozens of visitors around the town, a pub is open and Tesco is as it was until the lockdown came in.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing, but I feel quite strongly that the location of the Outer Hebrides (a couple of dozen miles off the Scottish mainland) would have enabled a chastity belt of protection surrounding the lifting of lockdown restrictions.

However, our elected representatives, obviously not endowed with a braincell between them, failed to spot this opportunity. Lockdown could have been lifted the way it has been done thus far with one major exception. It should and could have been maintained for the ferries and the planes. Essential journeys only. No tourists.

Yes, I agree, the economy has to get going again. But look what's happening now. Many B&Bs are staying closed, campsites (e.g. Horgabost) are shut - and how many restaurants are open? Few facilities if any. Oh, and what about our friends in campervans? No facilities for them either, so they'll be dumping effluent in a ditch - as I've heard it described in previous years.

Coronavirus - 1 July 2020

A few thoughts on the pandemic, six months after it all started in China, and three months since the commencement of lockdown in the UK. All the frivolity of our existence was stripped away at the outset, and the priority became survival. The worldwide run on toiletpaper spoke volumes. Planes stand idle, as do cruiseliners.

When normality appears to be in the offing, people can't wait to go on a trip. Whether this be on the ferry (as here in the Outer Hebrides), or on a plane away from lockdown hell.

Temperatures rose into the high 20s low 30s last week, so half a million people flocked to the beach at Bournemouth. Five hundred thousand.

When a noble cause reared its head (Black Lives Matter), thousands flocked to the streets. It wasn't about BLM. It was about getting normality back, and going on a rally is normal. One side-effect: coronavirus had a great opportunity to spread.

Because nobody bothered with the two-metre rule.

Normality had its last year in 2019.
A new normality will be established in 2020, and nobody likes it.

Cummings again

Dominic Cummings.

I can understand his panic, the decisions he took, putting his child's welfare first. I'm not a parent, but I do understand. What he forgot was who he was. Hightailing it all the way to Durham, a 4-hour drive up the A1, to self-isolate on a private estate, in a secluded wood a few miles out of town.

How many other people will have faced a similar scenario, both parents falling ill, responsible for small children - but who don't have the facility of a distant hideaway. His argument for not staying at home in London, he didn't want to expose anyone to the virus, is flimsy and really doesn't hold water. To quote some of the journalists at the press conference, he drove a coach and horses through the lockdown policy of the government he advises.

Mr Cummings is a high-profile, high-ranking advisor, as I pointed out in my earlier post. He has failed to take his position into consideration when confronted with the coronavirus outbreak in his own situation. That is a failure which actually renders him unfit to hold the position he does. However, I am not so naive as to expect him to be sacked. He won't resign, knowing full well that his boss, Boris Johnson, is heavily reliant on him - and won't sack him.

The ugly side of politics.

One rule to ring them all

Here in the UK, people have broadly adhered to government guidelines regarding the coronavirus lockdown. From March 23rd, we stayed at home where possible, only to go out for essential reasons like going to work, getting food or seeking medical care. The economy has crashed, people are suffering hardship, including separation from family and friends, but if that what it took to minimise the impact of the coronavirus pandemic, we've mostly been good boys and girls and obeyed the rules.

Not everybody, though. The Prime Minister has an aide, named Dominic Cummings, who has been the prime mover and shaker behind things like the Brexit referendum 4 years ago, as well as the general election campaign that brought Boris Johnson into 10 Downing street. Mr Cummings hails from Durham, 260 miles north of London, 15 miles south of Newcastle upon Tyne. When he and his wife started to develop Covid-19 symptoms they hightailed it to Durham to self-isolate; rather than doing so in London. That's already bad enough; 260 miles is a 6 hour drive, so Mr C would have had to stop off here and there to take a break. After returning to London, he has since been sighted in Barnard Castle, 30 miles southwest of Durham.Went there for a jolly?

A furious backlash ensued over the weekend. One rule for the masses, and another rule for the ruling classes? Is anybody going to pay any attention to directives issued by Mr J et al? This is very serious, as it undermines the credibility and authority of government at a time of international crisis

Coronavirus - 29 April

A lovely day in Stornoway, another glorious April day. Not much happening out here, no visitors or tourists arriving or leaving at all. The fifty miles of sea between this island and the Scottish mainland is a very effective barrier. A few thousand miles to the west, the United States have logged their one millionth case of coronavirus. Attitudes over there will bring about a tragedy of some proportions, which contrasts sharply with New Zealand which has reported no new cases for quite some time now. In the US, there are differences between states - Georgia practically moving out of lockdown for instance - forgetting that this virus is not observant of boundaries. The innane utterances of the 45th president, Donald Trump, do not deserve repetition; noting them is only done to highlight the deleterious impact they are having on managing the pandemic in his country. Here in the Outer Hebrides, where Mr Trump's mother came into life a century ago, we have had no new cases for a fortnight or so. The Scottish Government will adopt the same policies as the UK government, at least they do acknowledge the virus's crossborder nature. We may need to don face coverings when going to our weekly shop.

The situation surrounding the pandemic causes much stress and anxiety, something I'm by no means immune to. I go out for the occasional walk, but due to the lack of public transport, I am constrained to the town of Stornoway and its immediate environs.

Coronavirus - 27 April

Today is the 53rd birthday of His Majesty, King Willem Alexander of the Netherlands. Ordinarily, HM would travel the country to attend festivities and parties up and down the land. Not in 2020. He too is in lockdown and all festivities are cancelled. People are encouraged to sing the national anthem at home and have a good time - at home.

This time of year is a busy one on the Dutch calendar, with the 75th anniversary of the end of the Second World War appearing next week. On May 4th, the Dead from WW2 will be remembered, with usually a mass event on Dam Square in Amsterdam. This year, it will be severely pared down, with only the King and Queen attending the ceremony.

On May 5th, 1945, Nazi German forces in the Netherlands signed the instrument of surrender at Wageningen. The celebrations on the 75th anniversary of this event are also off. We were released from the tiranny of Nazi Germany, we shall all be released from the terror of coronavirus.

Ingesting bleach

As part of my university course in the 1980s, I was taught modules on toxicology. You know, learn about poisons. We all have dangerous substances in our homes, and bleach is probably one of the nastier ones. To suggest that a corrosive substance like a solution of sodium hypochlorite be injected into the human body, or even better, inhaled into the lungs for the purposes of eradicating coronavirus is irresponsible. However, this level of stupidity is about par for the course for Donald John Trump, who exhorted this lunacy after dining with the manufacturers of a certain brand of disinfectant. It is bad enough to publicly endorse one of the less friendly medicines in the pharmacopoeia (hydroxychloroquine) as a miracle cure for coronavirus - people have died following that suggestion. To ingest bleach is almost suicidal. Do you want to know how many children are maimed and killed after ingesting household bleach after drinking from those brightly coloured bottles in mummy's kitchen cupboard?