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Well it was only a matter of time before I caught COVID once again, and today I am self-isolating, after testing positive for Coronavirus. I had been suffering from a tickly throat for a couple of days, just a niggly annoyance if I am honest, but due to the nature of my work, I was testing daily; each time, my lateral flow test was coming back negative. Not feeling too unwell, I carried on as normal, bought a tickly throat medicine and ate copious amounts of lozenges. Oddly, nothing was helping, and the mild symptoms just lingered and lingered. All the time, I continued to test every day, just to be sure, there was nothing going on.
This week, on Saturday, I was due to have a procedure in hospital, so it was important that I remained as safe as I could, constantly testing, social distancing and wearing a mask. Every time, the results came back negative, and I felt confident to prepare for hospital. However, on Monday this week, Darrell tested positive for COVID and I instinctively knew there was something wrong.
The new lateral flow kits only have swabs long enough for the nasal cavity. After quickly looking online and taking advice, I was told to try and swab the back of my throat as well as my nose, even though this isn't standard practice. Low and behold, I tested positive within seconds and immediately informed work.
The rules on self-isolation have changed recently and despite my COVID-19 app initially telling me to quarantine for eleven days, it was only a guide to how long I would have to separate myself from the World. The new rules state that if I take a lateral flow test on day five and six, and they are both negative, I can return to work. I would need two negative results over two consecutive days, then my period of isolation would end immediately.
Today is my fifth day, according to 'Track and Trace' who phoned me this morning, informing me I probably caught COVID between the 14th and 18th of January. My guess is, they determined this after I did a PCR test yesterday, but I can't be certain. The gentleman on the phone asked me all the standard questions about whom I had been in contact with. He assured me, that even if I am still testing positive on the day I return to work, it would be safe to do so, since I would no longer be infectious.
I am aware that a PCR investigation is no longer required, if you test positive on a lateral flow. However, in order to make sure I was actually infected with the virus, I wanted to do the more reliable laboratory analysis, especially after registering negative LFT's.
Yesterday morning I walked the short distance to the testing site and the temporary Portakabins, erected in the old Sainsbury car park on Commercial Road, Portsmouth, and did the test. Last night I received the news, I was positive and should continue to stay at home.
Tuesday was a particularly busy day, as I had to rearrange hospital appointments, thankfully with only a week delay. The lady on the phone was extremely helpful, even informing me I would not have to do a PCR test before attending my appointment. Initially, confused, I questioned this, only to be told, it wasn't necessary. Apparently, even though I would be free of Coronavirus on the day of my admission, I would still probably test positive on a PCR test. I would be able to bypass this element of my hospital stay and just attend at the new appointment time.
With both Darrell and I self-isolating together, we are catching up on some much-needed sleep and rest. I am unsure which strain of Coronavirus I have, but the symptoms are extremely mild. I suppose I feel a little more tired than usual, and I have a tickly throat, coughing on occasion, but nothing more than that. If I am honest, I have had worse colds; the way I feel at the moment, is like nothing I have experienced before. In many respects I feel like a charlatan having to self-isolate, but I do understand the reasons why.
If I hadn't had my vaccinations and booster, I can guarantee I would be feeling a lot worse. Yes, I do feel out of sorts, but nothing bad or unable to cope with. By staying away from people I am protecting others, but I am not sure it is entirely appropriate to quarantine for such a long time, especially when, like most people, I have to work for a living. Nevertheless, all of us do need to support the most vulnerable in society; if anyone in an at risk category caught Coronavirus, they may not be as lucky as me.
Today, I feel completely different to the first time I had to self-isolate with COVID symptoms, back in March 2020. Back then I lost my sense of taste and smell and isolated for seven days. I did have a few days when I wasn't feeling great, but nothing too concerning; this time, I feel like I have a very mild cold! Also, the anxiety, worry, and stress I suffered with back in 2020 is no longer there, as I just wait for the day I am able to return to work.
All being well, I should be out and about again on 31st January and in hospital on 8th February for my rescheduled appointment. Darrell and I are at least able to spend some valuable time together, despite being ill. As Coronavirus becomes endemic in Britain, there will be more times I will have to self-isolate I'm sure, unless, of course, the rules are changed once again. The hope is, life will return to normal and all of us will just have to live with the virus, making our own personal judgements on who to be in close contact with. The only concern I have, is the possible discovery of yet another new variant, that is more dangerous than Delta or Omicron, and we return to lockdowns and shutdowns. If things remain as they are, then hopefully we can learn to live alongside COVID and use our own common sense, showing respect for friends, family, and colleagues when we have to and enjoying life as we did in 2018. I pray it's the beginning of the end for self-isolation and I never, never have to do it again!
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Last week I went out for a meal and a few drinks with colleagues. This was the first time I had been out with people from work in a long time, just before the start of the pandemic. This was a nice, chilled and relaxing evening, and it felt good to be socialising on this kind of level once again. Of course, it still wasn't the same as it was before COVID, with fewer customers than I remember, but at least the restaurant was open and there were customers, enjoying each other's company. Laughing and joking, deep in conversation, everyone was happy to be out, without a care in the World, living life like it was 2018.
Could this really be a taste of the future, I ask myself? Are we finally coming out of this pandemic? Well, from what the experts are saying, Britain, ahead of much of the World, is moving back towards normality, as we enter a new phase, living with COVID-19. All of us will have to live alongside it and get used to being far more cautious around others, in a personal, measured way, continuing to protect ourselves on a daily basis. I, for one, will continue to wear my mask in a work and professional setting. That is a personal choice and I don't need the Government to give me guidance, especially since they haven't followed rules themselves.
The latest news conference from the Government made it clear, that restrictions will now be lifted and by March of this year, there will be no more controls in place. It is a scary thought, living in a World without limitations, as it was before 2019, but as disconcerting as that feels, I am well aware of the importance of living my life to the full. I want to start travelling, picking up from where I left off, surrounding myself with friends and family in the same way I used to. Most importantly, I want to stop being afraid of a virus that I can't do anything about.
As Britain returns to normal, it is important we remain aware of Coronavirus, because it will be around for a very long time yet. We shouldn't, however, let it impact on our lives negatively any longer. Everyone I know wants to move forwards, all of us have wasted too many precious months, living under the constraints of COVID-19. It may well be time to throw the masks in the bin, but it is also a period to remain aware of just what could happen again in the future. Taking responsibility for our own actions should be our overriding priority, as we navigate the new World COVID has left behind!
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It was 1989 and my first trip abroad; not a family holiday or a vacation with friends, this was a so-called academic week away, in what was then the party capital of Europe - Magaluf. After leaving school in 1987, I attended Fareham College, studying Business. It was the way of the future and towards the end of Thatchers Britain, it was the subject to study. For me, it was a no-brainer; I wanted to learn about commerce and how to make money, as any true child of Thatcherism would.
Selecting additional modules, I chose to study Travel and Tourism, even then having an interest in the wider World. However, this wasn't the subject I thought it would be, in fact it was rather relaxed and if I am honest we did very little as a class in an educational sense. Light-hearted banter and dreams of living abroad, was my way of getting through the day, and I used it to the full, in a subject that just highlighted my then disinterest in education and learning. Two years later, as my course drew to a close, we travelled to Magaluf in Majorca, to study tourism on the island first hand. Unsurprisingly, perhaps, this was more of a car crash, rather than a polite introduction to life in the Balearics!
That first flight on Air Iberia was memorable for all the wrong reasons. A group of barely eighteen-year-old students, laughing noisily, shouting up and down the isles and acting up, in a way our children's children would be proud of today, was not an auspicious start to this educational field trip. As we landed in Spain, many of us had already been given our first and final warning, before we had even started.
As is inevitable in these situations, we all split into smaller groups and for the most part spent our week together. This wasn't seven days of hard conscientious study, this was a journey of teenage discovery, high jinx and indecorous behaviour. On day one, we found our local, a small bar near our hotel, called 'The Pink Elephant.' This run down pub became our first port of call daily, as we partied every night away until the early hours. Copious amounts of alcohol, cigarettes and drunken behaviour became the norm, as we all forgot the real reasons we were there. Mayhem and madness overtook events, and discovering our inner alcoholic became part of the course.
Laying motionless on our hotel bedroom floor, midway through the holiday, straddled by my roommate Mark, making sure I was still alive, a note passed under the door. Written in capital letters, from our senior lecturer, we were told in no uncertain terms that this was yet another final warning and if this behaviour continued, we would be sent home on the next flight. The next morning sheepishly walking into the breakfast room, hangovers smarting like never before, we sat down to eat. An expression of disappointment and determination from our guardians, and we knew time was up, if we didn't calm down and behave, or at least pretend to buck our ideas up and do some work. A new leaf turned, the rest of our stay consisted of more of the same, but with a little bit of studying on the side.
This truce worked well; We did continue to enjoy our time in a way only young adults know how, but in public we were far more respectful, even looking forward to the more cultural side of our journey.
Travelling into the island, towards the mountains, we passed through lemon and orange groves, sat admiring the beautiful Majorcan scenery on a rather ramshackled old wooden train. Arriving in Soller, aghast at the amazing views across the water, quietly, I sat on the side of the harbour, taking in the rugged landscape. These days were few and far between, but offered a welcome break from the huge shots of vodka the night before. Breakfast in a Spanish McDonald's was really the extent of our enlightened experience, especially when it came with a glass of whisky and foreign tasting fries. You could see the understandable regret on our lecturers faces, resigned to the fact, this is how it was going to be!
Our final night in Magaluf was once again full of celebration, drinking and dancing; this time however our teachers were very much in tow, enjoying the bars and clubs as much as us. Eighties music, cocktails in BCM, collapsing drunk in the street and drinking competitions, the final finale in the most memorable week of my youth. I may well have not learnt a lot about the island and its importance in Spanish tourism, but I did discover much about myself, my limits and boundaries, sexuality and most importantly, my first tentative steps into adulthood; Magaluf was the beginning of my love affair with travel and the foundations for the person I am today!
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It's cold, miserable, and overcast outside; this is the time of year, I think about my old home in Spain the most. I still have many regrets about this period, living in Gran Alacant and for the most part, they are all about dreams unfulfilled. I understand the reasons why I had to return to the United Kingdom in 2018, but it leaves me with an uneasy feeling, as I dream about a future, away from Britain. Living in Spain was hard in every respect, but it was also liberating, soul-searching and a time to grow into a better, more accepting individual.
Friends constantly ask if I will ever return to Spain, and it is a difficult question to answer. If the World was as it was in 2018, then the answer would be yes, without a doubt yes, yes, yes. I miss my life in Alicante greatly. It wasn't a period filled with wine on the terrace, sun-drenched beaches and colourful festivals 24/7, but it was memorable for all the right reasons. Darrell and I achieved everything we needed to in such a short space of time – we both had jobs, earned good money, became Spanish residents and felt included as part of a community, unlike any other we had experienced before. The month before I made the decision to leave, I felt the happiest I had ever felt in years. The Costa Blanca was home, I was happy to be alive and the people in my life, were generous, accepting and nurturing; in all but name, they were the family I didn't have in Britain.
As an individual, I began to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. Being around like-minded people from the expat community was a joy. Each of us had a story to tell, all living in Gran Alacant for very different reasons. It was indeed a melting pot of views and cultures, but most of us seemed to get on well. I really miss that sense of belonging, camaraderie and solidarity, something sorely lacking in the UK. I suppose, on a day like today, with the sun barely poking through, you do turn to better times; even if I didn't think it then, Spain was better in every respect. It is the people I miss the most – being able to walk out of my front door, and slowly meander down to the local square; stopping along the way, I'd pass the time of day with friends and neighbours, eventually sitting quietly in Sierra Mar Square, with a good book and glass of Vino Tinto. Untroubled in an urbanization I adored, I was content with my new life in the sun.
Today, I really do lead a busy, hectic life. I rarely sit down to blog as I would like, because I just don't have the time, and that makes me sad. In Spain, I blogged every day and always had something to say. I also had a monthly column in a magazine and to be perfectly honest, I was achieving my dreams, in a way I hadn't before. Spain opened doors that in Britain remained closed. The informality of Gran Alacant and the relaxed lifestyle gave me time to breathe and think about life. My thoughts weren't always positive, but the fact I had time to ruminate, was a sign my life was significantly better than it was.
Like Darrell, I tend to suffer in cold weather; I hate the British winter with a passion. Having not left this country since 2019, I have become more resentful than ever at this country, that for me projects a feeling of anxiety, melancholy and depression, especially at this time of year. I am a traveller at heart and always have been, so being confined to Britain, in the middle of a pandemic, has been a dreadfully unsettling time. I am left feeling deflated, often with very little hope, wishing I had stayed firmly in Spain when I had the chance.
Brexit is also another factor that has determined our future direction. There is no chance of returning to Spain in the same way we have in the past, because we just don't have the option to do so. The laws have changed and whether we like it or not, neither of us can work to support ourselves in Europe, we have literally had our choices taken away. I was one of those idiots who voted for Brexit, and it was a huge mistake; there isn't anything I can do about that, so Darrell and I will just have to live with the consequences of my actions.
Brexit is a huge regret for me, but so is leaving Spain in the first place. Both Darrell; and I agree, that I could have stayed on in Spain when he returned to Australia, even during the pandemic, but I remain unsure about that. Britain leaving the EU and COVID-19 has changed all our lives, without exception. Despite reflecting about the amazing life I used to have on the continent, I am aware about just how difficult circumstances would have been for us, had I stayed in Gran Alacant. The hope is, we can one day live abroad, maybe not Europe, and have a similar accomplished existence. We are however realistic about the future and realise time is no longer on our side. Now in our fifties, we may just have to accept the inevitable and create our own small piece of paradise in the UK.
The month after Christmas is traditionally the most challenging time of any year. I do feel depressed and down in January, and that will not change anytime soon. Interestingly when I lived in Spain, January was no exception, I also found it the hardest month, so this probably isn't unique to Britain. Yes, I think I possibly found it easier to cope with, living in a sunnier climate. I will always have fond memories of my time in Gran Alacant, I am still in contact with many of those I met there and enjoy seeing their photographs and hearing their stories on facebook and Instagram every day. I may not be a part of their lives now, but those three years, living and working in Europe, remain firmly in my heart. They are a reminder of what life can be like, if I persevere enough and embrace another country's culture and traditions, Somewhere to spread my wings, somewhere to call home!
