Strangely unconstrained

Well this is a strange lockdown, to be sure! 

I'm talking about the current lockdown in England, that began last week on the 5th November, and will end on the 2nd December.

It just doesn't feel like a proper lockdown. Certainly, most shops are shut; I can wave and shout over to neighbours, but friends are out of reach for now; and I can't travel very far for my daily exercise. But that's about it, so far as I'm concerned. Unlike the big lockdown last spring, there is no weird silence all around. The roads are busy with traffic. And there seem to be plenty of people out and about, not merely 'exercising', but occupied with all kinds of errands and activities that are allowed this time. And of course, children are still at school, and most people with jobs are travelling to work and back. It must also be said that we have all slipped quickly into whatever 'lockdown mode' we perfected last time, without the need for a learning process, in the way of flicking a switch. 

One big thing is missing. The spring lockdown contained an element of raw fear. It was fear of the virus itself, at least if you were 'vulnerable'. 

It was something to take very seriously indeed. The virus was was an unknown invader, and clearly deadly to some, with no sure defence or cure in sight. That's all changed. The first vaccine has now been announced, and others should follow soon. Nobody in the general population can be saved by inoculation just yet, but it's coming and the strain is off. Not unnaturally, many people may be presently inclined to slacken their personal efforts to stay out of harm's way. That can't help to keep the infection problem manageable. Not good. And there are always those who, for various reasons, none of them edifying, have wanted to party on or conduct business as usual, and selfishly just ignore the vital public health messages. But there must be just as many who are stuck in workplace or family situations where avoiding infected people isn't possible, and it won't really be their personal fault if they catch Covid-19.

There was also, in the spring lockdown, a fear of the police, and whatever sanctions they might impose. 

Some police forces reacted very strongly to people who flouted the spring lockdown regulations. Of course, they were bound to uphold the law. And I never heard of their doing much beyond drone-flying at beauty spots - representing nevertheless oppressive police surveillance to some - and well-deserved arrests for irresponsible fun-seekers attending illegal parties and raves. 

Even so, it felt at the time that there was a countrywide police clamp-down, and that we were all being closely watched for lockdown-breaking misdemeanours. I felt especially worried about being stopped if I drove Fiona more than a few miles from home, at sunset, for some quiet and solitary country walking - my preferred form of daily exercise. I constantly expected to be pulled over and questioned. Or I'd return from an hour's walk to find a police message left on my parked car. Or worse, an officer or two waiting for me. I would have been mortified if these things had ever happened. They never did, but the fear of an intimidating telling-off was with me for weeks. 

Bear in mind that I'm a law-abiding citizen, and always have been. And that in normal times I support the work of the police, and do not regard them as my enemy. But somehow the circumstances of the spring lockdown upset that relationship, and made me feel under suspicion, and at risk of a stern police reprimand if I broke the lockdown rules or stretched them beyond what the police might think reasonable.

But not so this time. The police seem to have backed off. And I feel able to do much as I like, so far as getting out for exercise is concerned. 

With the caravanning season over, I'd normally want to do only day trips anyway, which usually involve walking around a lot, most often on town pavements or seaside promenades where my boots won't get muddy. (Sussex mud is sticky and deep) That's my daily exercise. I want to get in 10,000 steps. 

In the current lockdown, I am quite willing to curtail my journeying so that I 'stay local'. I am defining this as 'going to any place within half and hour's drive'. Roughly speaking, that means somewhere within fifteen miles, given the dense Sussex traffic and the inability of most Sussex roads to take you straight to a place. (Natural obstacles like the east-west South Downs, and the north-south rivers Arun, Adur, Ouse and Cuckmere, combine to distort and constrain the Sussex road system. Plus there are no motorways in Sussex south of the M23 at Crawley. And although the main north-south A23 is usually OK, the main east-west A27 is beset with bottlenecks) 

Fifteen miles isn't that far. It's just far enough to take me to the nearer parts of Ashdown Forest, an area of open bracken and occasional small woods. Also to a big swathe of ordinary countryside. It doesn't get me to any of the best Sussex coast, certainly not as far as the magnificent chalk cliffs of the Seven Sisters and Beachy Head. I wouldn't want to visit most of the big towns within my self-imposed range, such as Brighton, Horsham and Crawley (way too much risk of infection). But smaller places like Lewes offer ample scope for an interesting walkabout. One exception to my big-town exclusion is Worthing, just reachable. It's spacious, has a good seafront, and I'd be confident of successful social-distancing there. But Chichester and Eastbourne, both of them attractive lockdown destinations for a socially-distanced stroll, are entirely out of reach.

Clearly I still have a lot of places to go to for a couple of hours. I can easily escape any sensation of being cooped up for four weeks. 

But I hear on the radio of many - not necessarily elderly - who live in flats, and don't have personal transport, who can't get out, and are suffering all the problems of loneliness and boredom. I do think of them. It's a reminder that some people (like myself) live very privileged lives. It's not a crime to enjoy a pleasant life with lots of options, but I am not smug about it. It is, after all, the result of chance events, rather than of deliberate planning and good personal decisions. That needs to be remembered. I've just been lucky in how things have turned out.