Mrs WeeKeef and I would normally be off on holiday at this time of the year. Somewhere foreign and interesting. Like Berlin or Montreal. Or Chipping Norton.
This year was going to be different. This year we could go anywhere we wanted, any time we wanted. That was going to be one of the benefits of semi-retirement: the ability to just get up and go. Near, far, foreign or domestic. But of course 2020 has not worked out the way any of us had planned and lockdown, amongst other things, has kept us much closer to home.
So with a wee bit of light at the end of the tunnel and lockdown restrictions easing we have, like so many other people, been trying to get out and about a bit more. Unlike many people we have not been dashing to queue up outside Primark, cramming ourselves into a plane heading for Ibiza, or packing a tent for a rave in Somerset. Our ventures so far have been a bit more tentative. A bit more risk averse. A bit more middle-aged.
Because it’s a little bit scary out there. Our first day out was simply one of our favourite drives into the Scottish Borders, involving a minimum of interaction with other people and, due to inclement conditions, a very British car picnic whilst peering through the drizzle at some scenery.
A few days later, emboldened by actual sunshine we decided to head to the beach. Not Ibiza, but North Berwick: scene of several happy childhood holidays and many, many, many day trips over the years.
Now many of you reading this (I use the term “many” loosely) will know North Berwick. It is lovely and has not really changed significantly since those aforementioned childhood holidays. Yes, there is a lot more commuter housing since the 1960s, but basically the beach, the town and the shops are much the same as they ever were.
And that was a problem. Because if you do know North Berwick you will know that there is no way in the world that a person can stroll along the High Street whilst maintaining a socially-distanced 2 metres from fellow strollers. We wandered down to the harbour and had a look at the sea and the sand, and the many people in or on it. We walked back up to the High Street and browsed some window displays. And we actually went into a shop and bought something.
But it all felt a bit too tight. After four months the proximity of strangers had become a worrying thing. Not because any of them were doing anything very wrong. They were just there. And there came a point all of a sudden when Mrs WK and I looked at each other and just knew we had had enough. For the first time in all those many visits over 50 years North Berwick had become scary. So we found a park bench a bit away from everyone else, ate some sandwiches and watched other people enjoying themselves. How’s that for middle-aged?
It will become a bit easier, of course. In fact it already is and forays in the past few days have been a bit less daunting. Yesterday we had a lovely day which included eating the world’s best fish and chips whilst sitting on a harbour wall and drinking an actual pint of beer in an actual pub (garden). Both these things took a bit of thinking and discussion, and both felt strangely brave but, like everyone else, we are trying to find our new normal.
And, if nothing else, all of this is helping us to fulfill one of the other planned benefits of semi-retirement, which is to spend more time together. That, dear reader, is working out quite nicely.
fortynine + one up 