{"id":37659,"date":"2020-03-15T20:07:12","date_gmt":"2020-03-15T20:07:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/?p=37659"},"modified":"2020-03-18T06:56:12","modified_gmt":"2020-03-18T06:56:12","slug":"coronavirus-covid-19-difficult-decisions-and-interrupted-sleep","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/coronavirus-covid-19-difficult-decisions-and-interrupted-sleep\/","title":{"rendered":"Coronavirus Covid 19 – Difficult Decisions and Interrupted Sleep"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I’m not really sure where to start, it has been an interesting and somewhat frightening few days. I can’t believe we were wandering around Cadiz<\/a> enjoying the sunshine and ice cream on Wednesday – that now seems so long ago. You might want to grab a brew as this is one looonnng blost post starting from Thursday morning when the Coronavirus Covid-19 changed our plans. That was the day we got confirmation that the Malaga Half Marathon, which we were due to run next Sunday, had been postponed until November. Looking around where we were it seemed a bit surreal, in El Puerto de Santa Maria everything was normal with folks going about their day to day lives. In fact if you didn’t have access to the news you would think everything was normal. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thursday night was a bit of a sleepless one as the impact of the virus had suddenly become personal to us, and brought home the fact we might need to alter our plans. We’d spent quite a lot of the day talking about what we should do next and hadn’t reached a final decision. Do we head home, or stock up on supplies and head somewhere with a view to possibly being there for a couple of weeks? There was a lot of uncertainty about how bad things would get, and after talking to folks back home, we opted for Plan B and rolled out of the campsite heading south towards Tarifa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On our way we tried to stop off at a Lidl but the car park was full, I blamed the lazy car drivers all parking near the door when there was a sign saying there were hundreds of spaces underground. We carried on until we reached a Mercadonna and tried to stop there, but once again the car park was full. Spotting spaces by the roadside, we parked up Zagan and headed towards the store. The place was packed, with queues for the tills snaking back towards the back of the store. We had heard jokes about panic buying of loo rolls back home, but that was all they were, jokes. This sight came as a bit of a shock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"coronavirus
All the tills were open but the queue still reached to back of the store<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

We got a basket, as we didn’t need much, and started wandering around the store. Whole sections were empty shelves – long-life milk, chilled meat, bottled water, soap, rice, handwash and of course loo rolls. We got what we needed, plus a few treats as the cake and chocolate sections were all fully stocked and we have no half marathon looming now. I joined the queue for the check out while Jay went off to see if they had any peanut butter (they didn’t, I don’t think they stock it, so it wasn’t a panic buy thing). The queues were busy, like you would expect on Christmas Eve, but standing still for a moment and looking more closely I saw an old couple unloading their basket onto the check-out wearing the plastic gloves you get in the fruit and vegetable department, and the more I looked the more people I could see wearing them. A couple stood chatting in the queue rubbing their hands to spread the disinfectant they had just put on them. Folks tried to steer two trollies at once, overloaded with shopping. Abandoned trollies half full of groceries were everywhere. Is this what was happening everywhere? All sorts of dark thoughts from far too many ‘end of mankind’ movies and books started to race through my mind, as the little girl sitting in the seat in the trolly in front of me sang away to herself and happily swung her legs. I had to hold back tears of anxiety.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We got out of there as quickly as we could and made our way to the motorhome aire at the marina in Barbate (N36.18419, W5.93541<\/a>). Once I worked out how to register us on the computer terminal to get us in, we paid for a couple of nights and parked up. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"motorhome
Zagan enjoying the view at Barbate aire<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The aire is about 1 mile from the town, but there’s a newly laid promenade to get you there and a long sandy beach to greet you when you arrive. Folks were running along the promenade, dogs were being walked on the beach, families sat in the cafes beside the beach supping drinks and there were a few ice cream places open. We sat on a low wall by the sea watching a lump of wood get washed up the shore by the surf and the sun slowly set. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders and the memories of the supermarket faded a little, we’d made the right decision. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Barbate
Barbate beach looking towards the marina and our bit of wood!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On the way back towards Zagan we popped into the local supermarket and although some of the shelves were empty and others sparse the queues had gone and it felt fairly normal. We spotted a queue of people outside a small shop and wondered what was going on, but the open doors of a delivery lorry told us all we needed to know. Hand drawn signs saying 10 people at a time had been hastily stuck on the shop doorway, as those in the know carried away six packs of milk, 5l bottles of water, loo roll and olive oil. Maybe they get a delivery the same time every day and these savvy locals knew when it was due – I suspect the stock won’t last that long. We had heard news reports that areas of Spain were being locked down, everything but essential retail outlets (supermarket, petrol station, pharmacy etc) had to close, no wonder people were desperate to get what supplies they could. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"coronavirus<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Back in Zagan I wrote a quick inventory of what we had in various cupboards and under the seats. I was feeling much better now and as if I was back in control of things. We had enough food for a week or maybe longer if we were prepared to try experimental ‘fushion’ dishes like chickpeans, sweetcorn and Worcester sauce. After the rubbish night of sleep I had on Thursday, I was so pleased when 10pm came around and it was time to head to bed, partly because all we had done all evening was scroll through updates on the internet of the situation in Spain. A state of emergency was being declared and the country was going into lock down. Luckily we’re not total strangers to states of emergency. Back in 2013 we toured Tunisia<\/a> in our motorhome, there was a lot of barbed wire and army about, including armoured vehicles in the main supermarket car park. The leader of the opposition party was killed while we were there, so we headed for a place we had been to before<\/a> as somewhere safe to let the predicted riots pass. Hopefully there wouldn’t be riots in Spain, but at least we were somewhere safe if there was any sort of trouble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Hymer
I don’t think I would have tired of this view even if we were stuck for a while<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A sickening thud on the side of the van woke me from a deep sleep at 3.45am. Almost simultaneously Jay let out a roar, leapt out of bed and pulled back the curtains. I was by the window before he had time to put his glasses on, but there was no one to be seen. We looked out the other side, nothing. Looking back at the window where the thud came from, there was a big crack in the plastic double-glazed window. Some kind-hearted souls had decided to attack us and damaged the van. Grabbing a fleece we headed outside to check for any other damage an to see if we could see or hear the culprits. The marina is pretty much fenced in with only a few ways in, but there was no sign of anyone. Looking at the damaged window from the outside I could see two hand-prints above the crack, but there wasn’t any other damage, so we retreated back inside. Unable to sleep we sat staring out of the windows for about an hour, talking things through. Had we been targeted because we were British? Were the locals telling us to leave because of the virus? Was it just kids mucking about? The other three vans in the aire didn’t show any sign of movement. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally we decided it was time to try and get some sleep. Jay managed a bit, I don’t think I did. The anxiety I had felt in the supermarket was back, and a lot worse. Thoughts and questions raced around in my head; were we doing the right thing? should we go home? will the attackers come back? and more. I felt very anxious, my chest felt tight, and worst of all I felt very unsafe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Saturday morning, Jay woke up and said he was feeling better about it all. He’d felt the van rocking before the thud and thought it was the wind outside picking up (happens a lot in a motorhome) then he heard voices, a female voice laughing, then the bang. It was probably just kids having a laugh and trying to wake us. He asked me how I felt, and I couldn’t stop the tears. Both Jay and I have had mental health issues<\/a>, so we know the warning signs. We talk and support each other when one of us is struggling, and I was struggling. We agreed on a change of plan where we would move to a campsite so it felt safer while we waited to see what was happening with the coronavirus in Spain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As Jay prepped the van for the off, I went to see if I could get our money back for the second night from the computer terminal (the whole aire system is automated). I couldn’t work out how to do it without phoning someone, but I did see a French family from one of our neighbouring vans and asked them if they had experienced any trouble last night, but as I thought, they hadn’t. I explained we were leaving and she said she didn’t think we could because of the state of emergency. The rules hadn’t been formalised, but we figured we’d be OK getting to a campsite a few kilometres away. Jay had discovered that the muppets who had woken us in the early hours had also tried to pinch our bikes, the straps were half undone. Piecing together the clues we think they might have started to remove them in the hope of cycling back to the town rather than the mile walk. When no one stirred they thought they’d rock the van a bit to see if anyone was inside, when that didn’t work they banged on it. We’ll never know if that is actually what happened, but that’s our best guess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Figuring that we were just the victims of being parked on the end of the row of motorhomes, Jay nipped to ask the German couple in the van next door to us how long they were planning on staying and if we could move and park between them and the other vans. The chap said they were heading off soon, so Jay asked if he was going home because of the virus, he received a blank stare. Knowing only a tiny bit of German (beer and hello mainly) Jay said “Coronavirus, Covid 19”, still a blank stare. “State of Emergency?”, the chap asked if we needed an ambulance. Jay came back to Zagan as he really didn’t feel it was his place to try and tell them what was going on. Like I said earlier, if you haven’t seen the news, you wouldn’t know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We sat in the van and talked some more, read more about what was happening on the internet and eventually decided that we should go to the campsite. It was nearby and to took the ACSI discount card so wasn’t massively expensive if we ended up being there a long time. As we drove towards it the other campsites we could see were closed. With it being warm and sunny for us, we forget it is still winter here and out of season for the locals. Arriving at the campsite I jumped out and went to check us in. As soon as I stepped into the reception I could tell something wasn’t right. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Both ladies behind the reception were wearing rubber gloves, one picked at some bits of cotton wool while the other was talking to a French lady who was getting quite agitated. The cotton wool receptionist looked up and asked if she could help me, and I explained we’d like a pitch for a couple of nights, or maybe a couple of weeks we weren’t sure. She looked at me and spoke in Spanish to her colleague, it was too fast to catch the words, but when we turned back to me I could see she was about to tell me something she didn’t want to. “Is the campsite open?” I asked, she said it was at the moment but they weren’t allowed to accept any new guests. She called her boss to double-check, but the answer was no, we couldn’t stay. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Over these couple of days we’d been keeping an eye on the BBC news, the local Spanish news sites, the Foreign Office website and World Health Organisation site. All of it was geared for locals in the area or those who had flown here, there was nothing for those who were visiting in a motorhome. We had been in contact with other motorhomers in the area directly and through Facebook forums and word was coming through that some campsites were closing as were some motorhome aires, we had no idea how many, perhaps just the odd one here and there, perhaps lots of them? Some free camping motorhomes were being told to move, but not where to move to. We were becoming a problem to the Spanish. Leaving the campsite reception we both agreed that it didn’t feel nice in Spain right now and we wanted to go home, but the state of emergency was in place telling locals to stay in their houses. It was a tough decision to make, but stood there in the car park with nowhere to go it made it clear – we needed to leave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We made a quick stop at a supermarket for a final few supplies, and agreed that from then on we would ‘self-isolate’ in the van as much as possible to avoid any chance of spreading the virus as we crossed the country. We’d limit our contact with people by using pay at the pump machines at petrol stations and ensure we washed our hands every time we went in and out of the van. Once again we were back in control and things felt a tiny bit better. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we drove the Spanish Government gave details of a country-wide lock down which would be enforced by the police and possibly the military. It listed eight reasons that you were allowed to travel, reason 4 was to return to your habitual residence. This gave us some relief, so if we were stopped we at least had a reason to be driving across the county. Jay drove while I tried to book a ferry from northern Spain to the UK, but most of them had been cancelled and the ones that weren’t cancelled were full. We had a channel tunnel booking for April, so instead we moved that forward to Thursday figuring we could make it to France before the lock down came into effect on Monday morning, then ease off the gas a little bit. We’re not used to long driving days, so I wanted to make sure Jay wasn’t taking on too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"coronavirus
“Coronavirus – Avoid Travel” – every motorway gantry flicks between two signs<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The further north we went the quieter the roads became, soon every other vehicle we saw was a motorhome, often several in a row in convoy. After over 600km and six and a half hours driving we pulled into the aire at Salamanca which is a couple of miles outside of the city (N40.93900, W5.65481<\/a>). It was already quite full when we got there and by nightfall late arrivals were parking on the surrounding roads. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"motorhome
This place was packed overnight and this empty again by 8am<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Everyone was out washing their windscreens as between us we must have taken out half of the bug population of Spain – if the virus was being transmitted by insects us motorhomers could have stopped it right then. Settling in for the night, even surrounded by all the other vans I still didn’t feel safe, jumping at every knock and ping from Zagan as he cooled down. With vans arriving until around 3am and others leaving from 6am, it was another rubbish night of sleep. Lying awake staring at the ceiling my head had time to think up all sorts of terrible scenarios for me, I was glad when Jay woke around 7.30 and said we should get going. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"insects
Apologies to Spain’s bug population<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I’m not sure if it’s related to the virus, but the price of diesel has plummeted. We filled up in Salamanca for 97 cents for a litre – that’s nearly the same price as milk! The roads were even quieter today and after two toll roads that are no longer toll roads, we finally reached Vitoria-Gasteiz where we filled up with fuel again (95c per litre) and got onto the AP1 toll road. We never normally use toll roads, but today was about getting to the border as quickly as possible. We didn’t think it would close, Macron had said ‘The Coronavirus doesn’t have a passport’, but things were changing so rapidly we couldn’t be sure. A lot of the anxiety of being in this situation has been the uncertainty – where can we go? can we drive? can we get home? what happens if we catch coronavirus while trying to get home, will they let us in? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"motorhomes\"
Empty motorways and motorhomes – it started to feel normal after a few hours<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

As we reached the end of the toll road near San Sebastian there were hardly any toll booths open, we weren’t sure which to go to as vehicles were switching from lane to lane. We picked a lane and spotted a woman directing traffic into the few lanes that were open, and slowly closing all the cash lanes. I could see operators in some of the cash booths wearing face masks, everyone was wearing gloves. We had heard that it was bad in the Basque country, but this was now quite frightening to see. As we reached the machine for us to pay, it wouldn’t read our toll ticket, Jay tried to pass it to the operator who wide-eyed backed away a bit and motioned for him to turn it over so she could see it without having to touch it. To have someone not wanting to touch something you are holding is a very unnerving experience. Our friends used the same tolls a couple of hours after us and all the booths were shut and the barriers up – they obviously decided it wasn’t worth the risk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"coronavirus
“Better Stay Home” – the other second part of the sign<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Several toll booths later, thankfully all automated, we reached the border. I was expecting a huge wave of relief as we crossed, but it didn’t come. We finally pulled off the toll roads at Capbreton (N43.63695, W1.44725<\/a>) after clocking up around \u20ac26 in tolls. Not bad considering we have driven from one end of Spain to the other, but all of those costs were in the last couple of hundred miles. We’d driven over 12 hours and 1150 kilometres (714 miles) and arrived to find kite surfers on the beach, families having picnics and groups of elderly folks wandering about together. Everything seems perfectly normal here, but then so did Spain just a few days ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"French
This sign has never looked so good!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I do feel a slight sense of relief being in France. But it’s a weird mixed emotion. Folks here aren’t wearing gloves and aren’t taking it seriously it seems. Are the Spanish being too alarmist or the French too laid back? I also know we still have around another 1000 kilometres to get back to the UK, and a lot can change in those few days it will take us to drive there (the money collector at this aire has said it might have to close tomorrow, he doesn’t know for sure what is happening). <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe I should be more like the German couple in Barbate Marina and not read the news and Facebook groups, I could live in a bubble of blissful ignorance. But this Coronavirus isn’t about how it will affect me, I am, fairly, young and fit’ish’ and will no doubt feel rubbish when I do finally get it, but will recover. However our parents, and our friends’ parents, people with medical conditions and that elderly couple wearing the gloves in the supermarket could\/would die from it, and that isn’t something I want on my conscience. So, we’ll carry on isolating ourselves as much as we an while we travel, and then lock ourselves in at home for a fortnight when we get back. It won’t be fun, but the alternative of infecting someone doesn’t bear thinking about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ju x <\/p>\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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