Panic!

 

Friday 20th March 

 

The first thing I do on waking is check the ferry company’s news site. It has become routine to check several times a day. So far the less than comforting message that all services between Spain and the UK had been cancelled from the 22nd of March. With a crossing booked for the 21st it at least gave us hope.

This morning however the only message that appeared was:

“Currently all passenger services between the UK and Ireland to France and Spain have been cancelled until 13 April 2020”

Now, how would you react? Me? I stormed into the lounge and tried not to scream at Neil “They’ve cancelled our ferry!” I like to think it came out in a calm and collected voice.

Neil immediately emailed them, phone lines not being open until 9:30. As there’s no response by then, he gives them a call. “Due to the high volume of calls we are currently experiencing this enquiry service has been suspended until further notice”

So what now? Flights are still leaving at present and friends have already decided to take that option leaving their car and most of the other belongings they brought with them ​in Spain. As we only have the one car and I tend to pack all our worldly goods into it, that was a none starter for us. That leaves the channel tunnel. Eurostar are still running but France is in lockdown, too. So how is that going to work? Thanks to the brilliant social media community on Jávea Connect I discover it is possible by downloading, filling in and printing a form, one for each of us and for each day to be shown to the police. They even posted the exact phrase, in French, we would need to write on the form. With breaking up the trip difficult to say the least; it would not be a journey most sensible people would choose to do in peace time but it is an option.

Meanwhile, Neil had the inspired idea of ringing the actual port in Santander. Miraculously he got through to someone who spoke excellent English and patiently reassured him that our ferry was “definitely” still running tomorrow. Panic over but this constant state of tension is doing nothing for my blood pressure, I can tell you!

A New Reality

How things have changed since our last blog. Suddenly, we all have to accept a new reality.

Back then, we had just left the boat and returned to the UK with lots of plans for further travel. We cruised down the Rhine, visited cities and countryside, went to theatres, art galleries and museums as well as doing a spot of house hunting. Neil returned to the boat to “put her to bed” before we headed off to Spain for our usual winter sojourn.

Daily life was a pleasant routine of socialising and relaxing, opportunities to explore and learn, share a meal, sample the local vino. It wasn’t all idyllic as we anxiously watched the flooding in the UK and a storm battered the seafront of Jàvea to such an extent we feared it would struggle to recover. The talk was of climate change along with the difficulties of becoming Third Nation citizens in the wake of Brexit. But life went on much as before here with seafront businesses rapidly refurbishing and reopening.

The news started to fill with reports from China of a new virus on the rampage, of its spread to neighbouring countries, the Middle East and Europe but the warnings seemed to be going largely unheard. We knew it had reached Madrid and surrounding areas, that odd cases were popping up closer. Then it was here.

The Chinese owners and staff of the many “Bazaars” were the first to pick up on what was happening, wearing masks and closing down. We all joked: “What do they know that we don’t?” We can’t kid ourselves that we didn’t know it was coming but it seemed far-fetched, somehow an overreaction.

So it still seemed sudden when the town council shut the bars and restaurants, shut all shops except for supermarkets and pharmacies and told everyone to stay at home. Still we didn’t quite get it. Then the whole of Spain was in lockdown. From midnight on Saturday, 14th March, we weren’t allowed to leave home except to buy food, fuel or medications, use cash machines or to attend to the needs of those too frail or vulnerable to care for themselves. Generally, only those in essential services were allowed to go out to work. The Guardia Civil were patrolling the streets to enforce the law.

The implications of all this started to dawn on everybody at the same time. We couldn’t go out for a walk even to areas unlikely to be populated. Shopping for food was not to be treated as leisure activity; only one person at a time was allowed in a car or walking along the street to reach the supermarket, when inside a distance of at least a meter had to be kept from staff or other customers. Of course, panic buying took over. The shops restocked​ overnight but were soon stripped to bare shelves again. Everything returned to being ready wrapped in plastic bags.

Our ferry booking home for the end of March was cancelled. The company was reducing sailings to ensure sufficient staff to operate them but we were offered another crossing a few days later. Then that too was cancelled. Neil spent over an hour on hold trying to rebook as a matter of urgency as everyone had the same realisation: if we didn’t get a ferry soon we would not be going home in the near future.

So now we wait as the situation changes daily, hourly even. The land borders are now closed and there are more ferry cancellations​. As things stand, ours is the last crossing to the UK. How long that will stay the case we just don’t know. We have a few days to pack up our belongings but it’s anybody’s guess if we’ll make it onto the ferry. Will the sea border remain open? Will we be allowed to travel eight hours to the north to reach the port? What then?