Our winter was spent in the same way the last few winters have with no inkling of what was ahead of us.
I did a talk to Clitheroe Civic Society about Low Moor.
Mick carried out work with Nigel at my dad’s old house.
Checked up on the boat and made sure the big ropes were secure. Thankfully.
I had the flu which went around in Jan/Feb.
The new craft club locally was getting regular attendees. The Craft and Chat in Grindleton continued to bring joy.
Mick’s Ukulele group had some great performances and practices.
The lifeboat was serviced in Liverpool for the season ahead!
Great trip to Dublin to see Evie and Laura and Damien.
Our dance moves were progressing and we were looking forward to a dancing weekend in April. Hmmmm.
Along with seeing friends and eating out, life was pretty good.
On the 6th March we left cold Britain for a Caribbean cruise on P&O Azura. I had my doubts as news of the Corona Virus COVID 19 was getting worse. Anyway for lots of, what seemed like goods reasons, we decided to go.
We left Bridgetown, Barbados on the 7th March, visited Martinique on the 9th, St Kitts on the 10th, St Maarten on the 11th and Tortola on the 12th.
On Friday the 13th we were refused entry into Grand Turk, then Antigua, St Lucia, Grenada and Barbados. So for the last week we were either at anchor or sailing around in circles servicing the ships systems which need the ship to be moving.
On board social distancing was put into place as much as possible. Anyone with a cough was thoroughly scowled at. But the entertainment and food continued as normal. Well as normal as it can be when the guests and performers are captive together until further notice. Everyone pulled together and performers dredged all their previous acts to keep us cheerful, the work of all the staff on the ship was excellent and much appreciated.
We were repatriated from Barbados on the 21st March, having docked on the 20th, but obviously not allowed onshore. Ourselves and another 6 cruise ships were being moved over that weekend, approx 24,000 people.
The airport was very busy, which was obviously worrying. The plane had been in Barbados for several days and we were assured the aircrew had all been together. Azura had not reported any cases onboard.
We arrived home early on Sunday the 22nd March. There were no precautions at all at Manchester Airport. Passport control had no distancing. Baggage reclaim was the usual scrummage and a flight from the far east had off-loaded recently. We had been told by P&O to isolate for 2 weeks when we arrived home and were happy to comply.
Mick quickly went to Aldi where he took his own precautions, while the toilet roll buyers pursued their quarry.
Mick stated feeling hot on the Wed, 5 days after we arrived home. He went to bed on Friday and did not get up for several days. We were both in the full throes of Covid by Saturday. Saturday and Sunday are a blur for us both. I seemed to manage to get up up make drinks and simple food. My paracetamol stash, which I always have, took a severe battering. A packet and day between us. 2 every 4 hours.
Information at this point was sketchy. The only piece of information we clung onto was that, if you could hold your breath for 10 seconds without coughing, you did not need to go to hospital. The hospitals were filling up and it was the last place we wanted to be. The only entries in my diary read Wiped Out and V. Weak for the next 9 days. Our friend Graham brought us a bag of food after the first week and Annette brought us another in the second week, for which we could not be more grateful. Bunty’s brownies were a welcome treat as we started to regain our sense of taste.
Mick had the cough, but I didn’t, we both had flu like aches and chills, we were both quite delirious in the nights, thoughts circling and never ending. We both had pain in our back, near the kidneys and I had a rash there too. We both lost our sense of taste and smell. Tea, which is normally a joy tasted like brewed sawdust. We realise we were coming round when we could smell the Pears hand-soap we were using so often. Tinned peaches were heavenly.
Not many people were aware we were actually sick during the process, but those that did kept us going with advise and support. Laura, Liz, Annette, Graham, Greg and Mark if I have forgotten anyone I apologise.
We took a short walk to our local bridge 10 days after we started feeling unwell, less than 1 mile and were absolutely exhausted when we got back. We did not go out for 3 weeks to anywhere where other people were around. Over the next 6 weeks we walked a little further each day and tried to eat well. The beautiful weather helped and we spent time outside chatting to our neighbours.
We spent the reset of lockdown keeping ourselves busy. Mick was the local version of The Repair Shop. I sewed and repaired items for neighbours. I started making masks and handing them out. When I was able, I joined the Ribble Valley Scrub Hub, started by Fiona at Patches and Buttons. I was assigned to the ‘Scrubbers’ making scrubs for local Care Homes, Chemists, GPs and Health providers. The other groups made Masks, Bags and Ear Protectors. It was a privilege to be part of a team effort.
I had a positive antibodies test in June, which I was lucky to get, so I am a statistic, but Mick is not as he has not been tested.
By July it was time to start thinking about the boat, marooned in Troon.
We are very lucky to still be here, very lucky to have got through the virus, and very happy to be alive together to continue our journey with a new perspective.