Long before this current pandemic began I’d been researching the Spanish flu of 1918 for something I was writing (all will be revealed later I promise). One hundred and two years on, in the spring of 2020, the echoes of the previous century made me vaguely uneasy. I told myself to stop being so paranoid, this current crisis was not the same at all, a lot has changed in a hundred years. So, after dipping my toe into the water of walking through the local pretty places, I decided to keep walking but to stick to the streets. They were nowhere near as inspiring but they did have the advantage of being empty. In fact, there was an almost eerie silence. Roads that had once been thrumming with life were deserted. Where had all the cars gone? Where were all the people? The world took on a strange, post apocalyptic character that made me feel as if I were the only person left alive.
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