A taste of freedom

Yesterday, for the first time in nearly two months, it was OK to get out for 'unlimited exercise' - and to use one's car to drive to a suitable place. Anywhere reasonable, so long as it was only for a day - no staying overnight - and only in England. So in practice, not all that far away, and not for all that long, but certainly it was now possible to break out of one's local area.

I'd been keeping to a ten-mile radius before parking Fiona and walking for my exercise. Twice I'd stretched this to twelve miles. But I'd been pretty good at following the spirit of the exercising rules. And of course I'd felt very confined. I was used to driving a long way, several times a week - while home, anywhere in Sussex, and sometimes bits of Hampshire, Surrey and Kent. On holiday, wherever I might feel inclined to go. Holidays were still not possible. But now, at last, I could have a proper change of scene. And with fuel prices at their lowest for a very long time, too.

But there were some limiting factors to consider. Very little would be open. There was no point in a trip to (say) Chichester, to mooch round the shops, look at the cathedral, and have a pub lunch somewhere pleasant. None of that was available. On the other hand, a long walk around any place, camera in hand, would be abundantly worthwhile. How nice it would be to see it strangely empty of  crowds, with its streets and buildings - normally hidden by people and traffic - now revealed.

As it happens, I didn't make a beeline for Chichester. I didn't really go far at all. I went first to Goring-by-Sea, to the Volvo dealer there. It was beyond my former ten-miles-from-home radius, but not all that far beyond. The dealership had moved from East Worthing to new premises in Goring in mid-March, and had been just about to open (no doubt with a fanfare) when the coronavirus lockdown was imposed. I now wondered if they were up and running. If so, I urgently wanted to book Fiona in for her annual service and MOT. She was also due to have new rear brake discs and pads and two new front tyres. If I could have these done now, then I'd be absolutely ready to go caravanning at a moment's notice, if the government gave permission.

Well, the Volvo dealer's premises looked pretty quiet as I parked. But they were open for business, with their computer system ready only that very day. It was nice to get waves from staff who knew me, and I nailed a booking for first thing on 1st June. I might well have been their first walk-in customer that day, as the website had been giving no hint that they were in fact going operational from this week.

But it wasn't quite as usual. Michael (the service manager, who had dealt with me for years past) was very apologetic about not being able to give me a loan car for the day while Fiona was being seen to. Normally they'd provide me with a nearly-new Volvo, sometimes a just-launched model they clearly thought I might like to experience. But not this time. It was all about the difficulty of keeping any loan car constantly cleaned to the right hygienic standard, inside and out, between every usage. But I knew I could use the train instead, albeit with a bit of exercise-walking at either end, so having a car was no calamity.  (I must however get on with making a mask)

So nice to get Fiona fixed up! That was the first of two important items I'd wanted to attend to. (The other was a routine appointment with my doctor, with blood tests - my own six-monthly MOT - but that's on the back-burner for now)

Where next? It was a cool but sunny afternoon. I went first to Lyminster, to check out its ancient church and churchyard. The church itself - which I'd otherwise want to explore and photograph - wasn't open, but the big graveyard was restful and attractive. Two men were strimming and mowing. One approached me - carefully observing social distancing - and asked if he could help, thinking that I was looking for a particular grave. I think we were both glad of the chance to chat, albeit from at least twelve feet apart. I had come away from the Volvo dealer with a 'mission accomplished' feeling, and this reinforced my good mood even more.

Arundel was close by. I next went there. It's normally a touristy place, seething with visitors, but was presently very quiet. Almost nothing was open. Perfect for a quiet (and safe) walkabout. In the course of this perambulation, in characterful Tarrant Street, I encountered a chap called Gerry, a retired journalist. We had a half-hour discussion from opposite pavements, with passers-by and the odd car walking or driving in the road between us. His eyesight was poor nowadays, and he confessed that after a few minutes he'd realised that he'd mistaken me for somebody else who looked just like me. But our conversation was mutually interesting, and we kept going until his dog got impatient to be home and made a fuss.

All this was so very like any day that I'm out of doors, whether at home or on holiday. I bump into nice strangers and have a good chinwag; I come away feeling uplifted. Social distancing hadn't stopped that happening.

In fact my afternoon's outing was just how it all used to be, before the virus came. The things one couldn't do, and the things one now had to do, hadn't spoiled it all. I could see myself - when allowed to - going away with the caravan to my usual farms and Club sites and having a holiday experience very similar to how it usually is. Because unless I am meeting up with someone I know by prior arrangement, I pass my days alone.

Today? Well, after an early cooked lunch at home, I think I'll set off to somewhere on the East Sussex coast. Somewhere I can stroll for a mile or more along a wide sunny promenade. It could be Eastbourne. But I think I may go for Bexhill - although there'll be no chance of tea and cake at the De La Warr Pavilion. Never mind.