I've reproduced the whole article, but the bit I'm chiefly talking about is just above, on the fourth page of it.
So long as I don't feel unwell - and I'm feeling fine just now - I can therefore jump into Fiona and drive off to woodland, heathland, the grounds of a National Trust garden, a beach, a clifftop, a wide promenade, or even walk the streets of any town, so long as I can keep distance between myself and anybody I meet. Clearly this won't be possible where people abound. Assuming that I am infected, I don't want to infect anyone; so I can't go where the necessary distance is difficult or impossible to maintain. That would socially irresponsible.
In practice, it's simple to choose the right locality and go walking for exercise there. I got out late afternoon today and walked briskly around the village, adding many steps to my daily total. In fact my Fitbit presently shows 9,668 steps, and a few more taken around the house before I go to bed will get me to that magic total of 10,000.
I've had plenty of social interaction today by speaking from a distance, and texting, and emailing, plus two phone calls made. But being able to walk about outside is wonderful, a great antidote to feeling cooped up. I don't mind one bit that I need to keep apart and can't chat with anyone. I like a chat, but it's far more important not to infect anybody. It feels like taking on a definite responsibility towards others; and in many ways I feel I can study this new subject - people-avoidance - and make it interesting for myself. In fact, I'm enjoying my self-isolating experience. And I have plenty to say about it.
For example, avoidance etiquette.
What's that, you ask. Well, it's the behaviour one needs to adopt when two people come towards each other on the same side of the road, and one of them is self-isolating and cannot pass the approaching person closely.
Obviously, avoiding action must be taken. But how you do it matters. The ideal is to smoothly change course and cross the road, as if this is what you were about to do anyway. Not ideal is to dart aside as if the other person is a slavering rabies carrier, or a groping zombie.
Twice on my village walk I had to slip aside onto the grass verge and tell the other person, with a smile, that I had to keep my distance because I was self-isolating. On both occasions they seemed to respond well, and laughed merrily; but who knows, perhaps they actually misunderstood me, and thought I was crazy, or just over-doing it. There was one man who rolled his eyes at me, as if to say 'For goodness sake, I'm not infectious, damn you. And I'm already well tired of this silly business.' Well, really. I was trying to do him a favour!
I looked far ahead after that, so that I could sashay to the other side of the road as soon as someone else came into view. The last thing I wanted was to cause offence.
I suppose we will, in time, get adept at avoiding each other without raising hackles or ridicule. Mixed reactions just now tell me that not everyone is taking present conditions seriously enough. It'll pass.
