Firsts
I wished I could spend the rest of my life… being slightly crushed by someone who loved me.
Gail Carson Levine
Today’s Reflection is of a week of firsts. Well, firsts since the last (and let’s hope it is the last) Lockdown.
The first ‘long’ distance journey by car. The first meal in a restaurant. The first stay in a hotel. The first beer inside a pub. The first train journey to London. The first participation in an activity with strangers. And most of all, the first hug with someone other than Sarah.
The first, first was from Wiltshire to Hertfordshire. It should have included Bedfordshire, but the Indian variant did for that. At least my wife and I spent time with some of the family. You can keep your Zoom, Teams etc. I realise I’m a person who needs to be with people, ‘in the flesh’.
Eating out was good. Even if we all enter restaurants, pubs and the like looking as if we were auditioning for the part of Uriah Heep in Dickens Great Expectations. Menus seem more limited. People distanced. Yet, there is still conversation, laughter, conviviality.
Staying in a hotel felt much as always. Although it did take what felt like a lifetime to check-in. Has anyone said I’m known for my patience (not)? And the cause wasn’t Covid. However, the thing that felt strange was packing for the stay. I’ve spent my life packing for trips. Business trips, holidays, working away. So much so that my travel bag and accessories were always ready. Following retirement and with the Lockdowns, I’d emptied those. Thinking of what to pull together for a trip now suddenly unfamiliar territory.
My first foray inside the pub, I look on as my local, felt comforting. Yes, I entered mask-wearing, had to register re the QR code and sanitise, but the sight of the landlord pulling a beer he knew I’d enjoy was all I needed. Taking up my usual stool, close to, but not at the bar and enjoying an hour or so of conversation gave a sense of returning morality. The beer was good too!
Train travel didn’t feel too unusual. I’d travelled by train to nearby cities of Bath and Bristol. However, there was still an air of excitement at a journey lasting longer than half an hour. A chance to linger over a coffee, read some of my novel and watch familiar horizons as I headed for London. And oh London…
It will seem strange to many how much I love The Smoke. I know rolling landscapes and sea views are beautiful, but I’m a town and city boy at heart. There are three places close to my heart. My native northeast, my adopted hometown of Chippenham and London. Busy, noisy, crowded, chaotic, cosmopolitan, characterful London. Whenever I arrive, it wraps itself around me like a comfort blanket. I have walked its streets at every hour of the day. And at any hour of the day. Those streets feel like home.
This return was to take part in a guided walk with three others around St Pauls, the Old Bailey and Smithfield. The topic was crime and punishment, but in truth, it was an insight into man’s inhumanity to man. The freedom of speech of today once seen as sedition. Today’s multiculturalism once seen as intolerance punishable by death. Governance by and of the people once seen as treason. I left thinking what ‘crime’ today might we one day see as an individual’s right or freedom?
And finally, the hugs. I’m not a naturally tactile person. I could blame my parents (Larkin’s, ‘This be the Verse’ and all that) as they were not touchy-feely people. I have no recollection of embracing either. Over the years, I’ve felt more comfortable about hugs although I confess it’s still not something that comes naturally. And yet, embracing my youngest daughter and her fiancé felt like something I’ve missed. Something comforting. Something human. It might be for me a small silver-lining to these Lockdowns.
This week’s music? Well, after the soggiest May I can remember, it’s this favourite Bruuuucee song of mine. We are all waiting for a sunny day…
