On Wednesday, Darrell and I went to London for the day, as part of my week off, celebrating my Birthday. It is the first time we have been to London in about ten years, normally only ever driving past the place to Heathrow or Stanstead Airport. I had managed to book some cheap train tickets during the recent rail fare sale, so at a cost of £24.00 for two of us, we took a train ride to London and back. The train journey was longer than usual, with the train stopping at every stop, but it didn't make any difference, in fact it was nice to just sit for a couple of hours, watching the day pass by!

After arriving in London, the rain began to fall. As we made our way to Hyde Park and The Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, the rain gradually got worse, evidently setting in for the day. The fountain itself was dreadful, probably the worst tribute I have ever seen for anyone, especially someone of her stature. It was souless, drab and without personality, all words I wouldn't use to describe Diana. Suitably disappointed and with the rain beginning to pour, Darrell and I jumped back on the tube and made our way to China Town for lunch.

China Town, near Piccadilly Circus, is colourful and vibrant, even during the worst of rainstorms. As we arrived in the underground station, an announcement was made, urging customers to take care, during the adverse weather conditions. Our trip to London looked like it would be a washout, and I wasn't holding my breath for a great day, especially with an Australian in tow, who hates the rain.

After wandering around the lantern clad streets, which felt a lot like Kowloon, we went into the Hong Kong Buffet, for an £11.95 lunch and glass of wine. The food was fine, all bog-standard stuff, but certainly filled a hole, ready for the rest of the day and a lot of walking.

We made a short stop at Harrods, where I bought some gifts from the shop. Initially I thought I would buy the typical Harrods plastic bag, but at a cost of £30.00, I thought better of it. This historic department store in the heart of London, seemed different from the last time I visited; It is indeed overpriced, but it was more than that, it was not the sparkling oasis it once was, and I will not be going there again.

Suitably unimpressed, we headed to Covent Garden and had an amazing afternoon, exploring shops and market stalls, buying some cheap souvenirs and a couple of stylish berets from a hat stall. Feeling knackered, we had a few pints in the Punch and Judy public house, built into the arches in the corner of the market. I felt relaxed sat in the relative cosy atmosphere and despite paying over seven pounds a pint, it was a highlight of the day, just being able to do absolutely nothing.

We walked along Embankment, towards Parliament Square and Whitehall, taking in the sights and sounds of the city and the breathtaking architecture.  The skyline had changed a lot since I was last in London, and as we walked along The Thames, the noticeable additions to the city scape were all too clear to see. The House of Commons and more especially The Elizabeth Tower looked glowing, as the sun began to finally come out, after the deluge of the day. Its recent facelift had brought the original blue and gold colours to the fore, and I have never seen it looking so good. This part of London is always impressive, so I am rarely disappointed, but its familiarity is always welcome, especially as we headed towards the end of the day.

Walking down Whitehall, past the cenotaph, just outside Downing Street, there was a small demonstration, against the war in Ukraine. The speakers were very emotional, unsurprisingly, and Darrell and I crossed over to stand and listen for a short while. The scenes of horror being described were unimaginable to most of us here in the relative safety of the UK, but resonated with all of us who were there. After pausing for a minute's silence, a Ukrainian gentleman approached me, and asked if I would take some photographs of the banners he had made to highlight the atrocities in the war. It was very poignant, and as we walked towards Trafalgar Square and our final destination, I was mindful of the tumultuous times we were all living through. London has always been a welcoming city, and just as it has offered sanctuary to other nationalities in times of war, so today It was opening its doors to our friends in Ukraine. The fact a peaceful demonstration can take place opposite the Prime Minister's residence is testimony to our long-established democracy, unlike the totalitarian regime in Russia.

In the end, Darrell and I had a wonderful day in London, ending my Birthday week perfectly, as I go back to work tomorrow. Neither of us see the capital often, but when we do, it never ceases to amaze. Walking around its crazy streets, I thought how much I loved the place and even, just for a fleeting  moment, how I might like to live in this buzzing metropolis. Of course the reality is, I could never afford it, but it is nice to dip in and out at will and enjoy a fun packed day in London, a city of contrasts and a melting pot of cultures!

Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, Hyde Park

China Town and Piccadilly Circus

Harrods, Knightsbridge

Covent Garden

Embankment

Parliament and Whitehall

Demonstration opposite Downing Street, protesting against the war in Ukraine.

Trafalgar Square

To be honest, I was in two minds, whether to even write a review this year, but, this has been a particularly important milestone in my life, so it is necessary to include it. Generally one could sum up 2020 in one word 'COVID,' the one thing that has dominated all our lives and the one thing that just keeps on giving. This has been a memorable year for sure, but for all the wrong reasons and this isn't a period I want to repeat in the future. 2020 has been like a large dark cloud hovering over my head for nearly twelve months, rather like periods of depression I have suffered in the past, and it is a reminder of everything I have lost, in fact everything we have all lost. This was the year none of us want to remember and a time we all want to forget!

The last time I saw Darrell was in November 2019, when he returned home to be with his Mother, after a short stay in the UK. By January 2020, we were planning our next trip to see one another in Japan and Thailand. In February our flights were booked, itinerary finalised, and we were ready for our next holiday in Asia. At the beginning of the year, COVID-19 was a problem on the other side of the World and by the time we were due to meet, it would have disappeared. Little could I have known then, just what position I would be in today. I was optimistic about the future all those months ago and looking forward to seeing my husband once again, however dreams can shatter as quickly as they appear and circumstances destroy 'best laid plans of mice and men.'

This first quarter of the year was a far cry from the World we live in today. Things were relatively normal and like Darrell, I was in good spirits. This was short-lived; the pandemic took hold in Europe and then Britain; the tide began to change. As a country, we kept our boarders open, while Darrell's home country of Australia closed theirs. Death rates began to rise dramatically, and I felt myself falling into a situation I couldn't resolve. By the time of the first lockdown, I was feeling worn out and tired, as new social distancing measures were brought in. My working life changed markedly and the air was thick with anxiety, as all of us fought our own battles to overcome the 'new normal' we were all living through.

At the end of March, I suddenly lost my sense of taste and smell, along with several other colleagues. At the time this wasn't a recognised symptom of Coronavirus and although I knew there was something up, I carried on, very much in the same vein as I had before. Always obsessive, like I am today, I sanitized my hands every few minutes and kept as wider distance from others as I could. This virus was scaring the hell out of me; the more days that passed, the more we found out about this infection and the more apprehensive I became. Daily press conferences, twenty-four hour rolling news and scenes of sheer panic in hospitals, reinforced the nations respect for the National Health Service, as we clapped for carers every Thursday night. These were strange, unnerving and daunting days.

At the beginning of April, as I awoke one morning, after a sleepless night, I felt my temperature rising and my breathing more laboured. I immediately phoned 111 and described my symptoms. They were not classic COVID symptoms as we know them today, but they were enough for me to have to self-isolate for a week. After just a few days I felt well and able to return to work after my stretch of quarantine. People ask me today, if they think I had the virus, to which I reply 'yes, I think so.' You have to remember there were no tests available at the time and a loss of taste and smell wasn't recognised as a symptom like it is today. If I had to hazard a guess as to my condition, I would say it was virus related, but I am cautious. As someone who has many of the 'red flags' for a far worse reaction to COVID, I would have expected a more severe manifestation; that makes me unsure as to the reasons behind my anosmia; only time will tell.

I spent the summer walking across the city of Portsmouth; with time on my hands I was able to explore this great naval city I now call home. I decided to cut my hours at work and only go in when absolutely required to do so, protecting myself at every juncture. This allowed me time to myself and although I felt terribly lonely on occasion, I was grateful for the chance to do things I wouldn't normally have done. The three-month national lockdown improved my level of fitness, but left my mental state in tatters. Isolated, with very little human contact, I did my best to get through the difficulties, as I still do today.

The rest of the year, after lockdown has been much the same - in and out of quarantine, pubs reopening and closing, stopping and starting work, 'Eat Out To Help Out,' (which probably made the virus worse) and mistake after mistake from the powers that be. I have really lost all sense of reality over the last few months, unable to understand just what rules we have to follow, how many people we can have in our 'bubble,' or what all the different tier restrictions mean. After, what I can only describe as the 'continuing Government fiasco,' I have learnt to do what I think is best and always follow my own instincts. I have started to ignore the official wishy-washy approach to this virus and do all I can to look after number one. I always wear a mask, clean my hands and keep a two-meter distance from everyone else.

On the plus side, I have been able to meet my friend Ramona over the last three months, and we had begun to rekindle our thirty-year friendship. That was at least until we headed into a new lockdown of sorts and entered the new Tier 4. Equally, Darrell and I are speaking more than ever and are beginning to plan for the future, looking towards a brighter 2021.

As we approach the New Year, the UK has started to vaccinate us against this modern day plague, after the Pfizer vaccine was approved for use. It looks as though the Oxford AstraZeneca vaccine will also be rubber-stamped within days and the mass inoculation programme will pick up pace. Like most people I am hoping to be immunized against COVID-19 sometime next year. However, until then, there will likely be more disruption, as like me today, people are asked to self-isolate from the outside World, if they come in contact with a COVID positive person, and Britain moves from curtailment to emancipation in equal measure.

There will be no travelling for me next year, rather like 2020. I want to be sure I am fit enough to fly, but I am looking forward to a time, when I can get on a plane again and travel back to the Asian continent, a region I adore. Until that is possible, Darrell will hopefully fly home next year, and we can both begin the long hard slog back to normal, away from the threat of the virus. Cohabiting together once more after this strange pause in all our lives has been restarted, our partnership will return to convention and all of this will be but a distant memory. 2021, the year of the vaccine will mark the beginning of the end of COVID-19 and a climax to this dystopian World all of us now inhabit.

Kuala Lumpur 1997

Kuala Lumpur 2001