A sign of the times

On 16 April 2020, the news that the lockdown was being extended hardly came as a surprise. The one saving grace was the sunshine. It had been a record breaking April, both sunny and warm. No one would complain if the nice weather continued into May, least of all me. Of course, the continued restrictions meant I’d have to stick to short, mostly boring, walks for a while longer but it seemed a small price to pay. On 22 April, I decided to revisit another of my old walk to work routes, which happened to include two bridges. It also had the advantage of a few spring flowers to make me smile.

There was no doubt in my mind that carrying on with the lockdown was the right thing to do. April 2020 had been a grim month for those who could bear to watch the news. The number of deaths was rising, although conspiracy theorists either diminished or inflated them. Either way refrigerated shipping containers were pressed into action as mortuaries, crematoria were working almost round the clock and hospitals and care homes were struggling to deal with the influx of virus cases. In shades of 1918, the Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, had caught the virus and been on a ventilator in hospital. The seriousness of his illness was played down at first but, once he was better, it was admitted that things had been touch and go for a while. So much doom, gloom, misinformation, conspiracy mongering and point scoring from people who really should have been working together felt like a very familiar story.

I walked to Cobden Bridge with all these things swirling around in my head like a black storm cloud. A quick glance towards Riverside Park was enough to tell me it wasn’t worth attempting a detour. It was still crowded. At this point it would have been easy to feel miserable with my lot. The roads were empty though so I pressed on and tried to think of more positive things. Not all the news was doom and gloom. For the sake of my sanity, I watched and read as little of it as possible. There were some news stories worth following though. The story of Captain Tom Moore was one such. On 6 April, this wonderful old soldier decided to try to raise a little bit of money by walking laps of his garden. His aim was to raise £1000 for the NHS by his hundredth birthday on 30 April. Quite rightly, his fortitude and his smiling face captured the hearts of the nation and he exceeded his aim beyond his wildest dreams. In the end he raised over £30 million. We’d also seen locked down Italian’s serenading each other from their balconies, people showing their appreciation of NHS staff by clapping on their doorsteps and NHS rainbows springing up all over the show. Then there were the scientists in Oxford and Southampton working hard to create a vaccine. If anything was going to beat this virus it was the power of positive thought and the persistence of positive people.

When I reached the railway bridge on Priory Road I met my first human of the morning. An elderly lady walking a small dog was coming towards me. The path under the bridge is narrow with railings beside it. There was no room for social distancing and I couldn’t walk into the road because of the railings. Still, I was in no rush, so I stepped onto the grassy bank beside the bridge and took the opportunity to take a photograph of the sun shining through the new leaves while I waited for the lady to come past. She smiled and thanked me and I said good morning and smiled back. As we each went on our way, it occurred to me that mine might be the only smiling face she saw all day. This lack of social contact has been one of the hardest things about the restrictions, especially for elderly people who live alone.

I’d heard that, after a long and sometimes bitter dispute between residents and locals, the path behind the Millennium Flats had been reopened so I was disappointed to find the gate locked when I reached it. A sign on the gate told me work was being carried out to repair the path. Cynically, I wondered if this was some kind of ruse to keep the gates locked but when I got around the corner I saw workmen busily resurfacing and realised I might have been too hasty to judge.

My next human contact came when I walked down the slope towards the boardwalk. It couldn’t really be called contact to be honest, because the human was walking a dog and was a little way ahead of me. The boardwalk is another of those places where social distancing isn’t easy, but apart from the dog walker and a train passing by, I managed to get to the end without incident.

The next challenge was the narrow path between the boardwalk and my second bridge of the morning. Lockdown walking seemed to be a series of challenges and decisions. I could have walked through the little industrial estate and avoided the path altogether but it looked empty and I was feeling brave. I took the risk that no one else would appear before I got to the end. It turned out to be a good move because the trail remained deserted and I also found an interesting piece of graffiti under the bridge. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most skilful graffiti I’ve ever seen but it was certainly a sign of the times and it made me smile.

I crossed my second bridge of the day still smiling. By this time it was getting rather warm, more mid summer than spring heat, so I was glad of the breeze blowing off the water. When I got to the far side I found an abandoned bike chained up on the embankment of the old iron bridge. It may be the strangest bike I’ve ever seen. All in all it had been a successful walk and another route to add to my lockdown repertoire.