Hello all. I hesitate to write this post. Somedays I get consumed by following coronavirus news – looking at the latest stats for places that interest me, seeking the latest dos and do nots, following press conferences, and watching depressing news clips. I do not want you to be supersaturated as well. But a friend in Canada suggested to me that the progression of things here might be a few weeks ahead of there, and said perhaps a report would be in order. I will oblige.

The local impact of the virus was first felt at the beginning of March, when public gatherings started to be cancelled. That was the first time I was personally effected. A concert I planned to attend was cancelled. I, and others, were annoyed more than anything else. When I went to claim my refund, the cashier and I wondered aloud at when it would be rescheduled, and chitchatted about how we hoped these cancellations wouldn’t last long.

At that point, most of the discussion about the speed of the spread of the illness, and how easily it was contracted, originated from what was happening in China. It still seemed like a long ways away, in a different world.

But then we started to hear about northern Italy.

This hit much closer to home.

Not only is Italy geographically closer, it is also emotionally closer. It seems that many, many people here knew someone who had recently been to, or was soon supposed to be travelling to, Italy. And as the news came out about how rapidly the virus was spreading in Italy, and how sick people were getting, a sense of unease started to build.

And the restrictions grew. Now, all events and gatherings in seniors homes were cancelled. All public events were cancelled. And news started about, “catch it, bin it, kill it”: if you sneeze, cough or blow your nose, do it into a tissue. Immediately throw the tissue away. And then wash your hands, for at least 20 seconds (about two “happy birthdays”). Seniors and people with compromised immune systems were warned about contact with other, and told to stay indoors.

Then it happened – Gibraltar’s first case. A resident who had been in Italy.

But what happens in Gibraltar is not the only source of risk. Gibraltar shares a border with Spain, and about 15,000 people cross that border each day to come to work in Gibraltar. In addition to that, many Gibraltar residents own homes in Spain, and are regularly crossing the border. And all of a sudden, the number of cases in Spain was exploding.

The hotspot in Spain was originally Madrid, quite a ways from Gibraltar. But Spain was imposing nation-wide restrictions, which included talk of border restrictions. If people were not able to cross into Gibraltar to work, things would be brought to a standstill – including in health care.

And that’s about when the panic buying started. People began to fear the border would be closed, and supplies would not get in. Like all the rest of you, shelves have been empty, toilet paper has been in hot demand, and shoppers have been frustrated. Supplies continue to ebb and flow.

Cruise ships continued to dock and their passengers disembarked for a day in Gibraltar. Some were angry that the government was continuing to permit this. Others were not – were it not for the cruise ships, how would the retail shops, the bars and restaurants, survive?

Eventually, the government stopped the case-by-case assessment of deciding which cruise ships would be allowed to dock, and there was a total probation on cruise ship entry. This occurred right around the same time another restriction was imposed – bars and restaurants could be open for take-away only.

To date, it is this decision that has had the most profound impact on the social lives of the residents of Gibraltar. As you walked the streets, already near-deserted due to people’s decisions to stay home and the absence of cruise ship passengers, you could feel the heaviness of despair over the people that were left. They gathered for the last family lunches and coffee clutches for who knew how long.

And that is the worst part. When a restriction is imposed, no one knows how long it will last.

I went for “the last lunch” with three friends. The mood was solemn amongst all, impatience by some. “Why don’t they stop imposing these restrictions and just let the virus run its course?,” one of my friends has said, repeatedly and loudly. “Those who die, will die. We can’t live like this, in fear. I am not afraid of death. And this is no way to live.” The rest of the table sat silently. No one has any answers.

Only the fish remains along a row of normally-busy restaurants on one side and shops on the other. Take-out and delivery is the new way for restaurants to survive.

Shortly after the bars and restaurants were closed, another new restriction hit – everyone over 70 was legally required to stay at home. The only exceptions were to buy essentials, to seek medical treatment, and to take dogs for a short walk. All other residents were strongly encouraged to stay home unless out for the same reasons, or for work. It was strongly suggested to employers that they make arrangements for their employees to work from home.

The requirement for the over seventies to stay at home was not being strictly enforced, however. I know some extroverts that live alone that fall into that category, and to force them to stay in their homes is very, very harsh. They have been out. They have seen police. And they have not been stopped.

That does not mean they have not been subject to public ridicule. Other members of the public have yelled at them, “go home!”.

We continue to look across the border to Spain, and hold our breath. As we were being encouraged to stay home, Spain was in total lockdown. And there, it is being enforced. Friends who know people living in Spain tell stories of their friends trying to drive to the country to go for a walk, and being stopped at roadblocks, and told to back home. People trying to get to across the border to their homes in Spain, showing electric bills or other proof of entry, have similarly been told “no”, and ordered to turn around.

As the tension grows, so too does confusion and misinformation. The Gibraltar government has started to send daily text messages with updates. The message also includes the number to call if you feel sick, the caution to wash your hands, and the call to stay away from the elderly. The only thing that changes in the message are the statistics. Currently, they are:

• Confirmed cases: 5 recovered, 10 active
• Samples sent: 169, test results pending, 45

Gibraltar is only about 33,000 people, so looked at on a strictly statistical basis, our 15 cases give us an incredibly high rate of infection – 445 per one million people. Contrast this to Canada, which at the time of writing, has 1,472 cases, yet an infection rate of only 39 per one million people.

As I write this, I note today’s text update is an hour late.

Interestingly, some things happened in Canada before they happened in Gibraltar. For example, schools were closed in Canada much sooner than they were here – in fact, March 23rd is our first day of school closures. I think the different chronological order in which closures and restrictions are being imposed in different countries just goes to show that no one is certain how to react to this virus.

Buses routes were altered long ago, and many stops sit empty and unattended. The buses running to transport Spanish workers to and from the border continue, but as you can see, they don’t carry friendly messages.

A “new normal” has emerged here. People stopped panic buying, and shelves became about 70% restocked. Greetings on the street are now “hellos!” said loudly across a distance, no kisses. There is still an occasional elbow pump or foot touch, but those too are rare. I went for a walk with a friend, and tried to keep a distance between us. The coffee clutch has disappeared – sort of. Some have decided to stay indoors. But a few of us still go get our coffee, which is now a takeout, and then stand in the street, keeping our distance from one another, chatting. People that we know pause to chat as they walk by, while others give us nasty looks as we stand having a conversation in the street. Is what we are doing wrong? Perhaps.

But it doesn’t really matter, for our new normal is about to be shattered. At yesterday’s daily press conference, we were advised that the entire population goes into total lockdown as of midnight. Only essential businesses are to remain open, all retail shops and construction sites are closed. As for individuals under 70, the press release said:

• You will be able to go out for a run or a walk, but you must observe the rules of social distancing.
• You will be able to go out to exercise children.
• And of course you will be able to go out to shop and for other essentials.
• You must not be out and about other than with a person who already lives in the same property as you.

We are about to enter a new normal. But the panic that was in the stores earlier this month does not exist today. I went out, and found everything I wanted.

It has been amazing to write about this because it has forced me to look at how much my life has changed in less than three weeks. Three weeks ago, I was upset about not being able to attend a concert. Now, I won’t be able to leave my house except to get some exercise or to get groceries, all of which I can only do alone. And everything else that was going on with my life? It has come to an abrupt pause, all posed in midair.

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On the lighter note, one issue is resolved – I guess I am growing my hair out!! That includes my bangs. Oh dear, what are we all going to look like?!

Maybe these measures are necessary. Perhaps I am the perfect example as to why. I think I am being cautious and careful, but perhaps even I fail to appreciate the seriousness of the situation.

Yesterday as I stood on the street drinking my morning coffee, an acquaintance approached to pick up a coffee, and he and I started chatting. I wanted to speak with him, because he was in Italy with Gibraltar’s first COVID-19 case, and rumour had it that he too, had contracted the virus.

“I went to Milan with three of my buddies,” he told me, “and we were all staying in the same apartment, cooking food for each other, sharing drinks, sharing the same bathroom. And after we got back, one of my friends got sick. And he ended up in the hospital, ended up being tested, and he had it. I too felt unwell at about the same time, so I think I had it too.”

“Did you have a fever?”

“No.”

“Did you have a cough?”

“No.”

“Then what was wrong with you?”

“I felt unwell, like you feel when you have a cold. No energy, achy, that sort of thing.”

“Were you tested?”

“No. But I’m sure I had it. I felt sick after we got back, right around the same time my friend was sick. What else would it be?”

I told another friend this story. He got upset with the guy for being out, and with me for talking to him. “There is no evidence that says you can’t get it again. And we still don’t know that if once you have had it, you remain a carrier and you can pass it on to other people. That guy should not be out.”

“And you therefore don’t think I should have been talking to him?”, I asked.

In response to my question, there was a long silence. “You need to be careful,” he said sternly.

He is right, of course. But I can honestly say, curiosity overrode all else, and I never even thought I might be putting myself at risk. Have I? That’s just it. Nobody knows.

So be careful, but be kind. Don’t watch too much news. And share things that make you chuckle. Here’s one that did it for me.