Here we go again - but this time it's lock-down by stealth!

With Christmas fast approaching, we unfortunately seem, once again, to be on familiar territory.  Think back to last year when after categorically stating that Christmas celebrations would go ahead as normal, Prime Minister Johnson was forced into a dramatic U-turn.

Things had been developing for some time, with the alpha, or Kent variant of Covid-19 spreading rapidly across the country, bringing in its wake a wave of hospitalisations and deaths. In the face of mounting evidence, Johnson was forced into re-imposing restrictions on the hospitality trade, travel, workplaces, shops, and businesses along with strict rules about families mixing, outside their own “bubbles” (stupid term). In short, the PM was forced into an embarrassing U-turn and had to “cancel” Christmas - something he said he would never do.

Things were very different back then, as the roll-out of an effective vaccine against Covid-19 was in its infancy. 12 months on, and with most of us having received at least two shots of vaccine, and a substantial number having received a third dose – the so-called “booster” vaccine, you might be forgiven for thinking we were nearing the end of this wretched pandemic.

And so, it appeared, but just over three weeks ago, news broke about a “variant of concern” that had been discovered in South Africa. This heavily mutated Corona virus, notated by the Greek letter Omicron, was spreading rapidly and was likely to be heading our way.

Fortunately, the government acted quickly, this time around, and suspended flights to the UK from southern Africa. This was in sharp contrast to their dithering over the delta variant, which originated in India, but despite their quick-thinking Omicron was soon spreading rapidly, throughout the population at large.

Fast forward to the present and the media is awash with stories of how fast Omicron is spreading. The UK’s Chief Medical Officer, Chris Whitty, found himself in hot water, particularly from a number of senior Conservative MP’s for requesting that people should limit their socialsing over the Christmas period, and it appears that many people have taken his nannying advice to heart.

Following on from the CMO’s speech the other day, many people have been frightened into modifying their behaviour, although the government’s advice appears to be saying, carry on as normal. Weighing into an already confused situation, are the newspaper and public broadcasters who, working on the basis that bad news sells copy, seem hell-bent on forcing us into another lock-down. This view is reinforced by the stay-at-home, “protect the cheeldren” Mums Net brigade, oblivious of the fact that their precious little darlings are probably the biggest plague spreaders of the lot!

Downing Street is of course insisting that there won’t be another lock-down, but instead we are seeing a situation that many are calling “lock-down by stealth.” On commuter routes into London, passenger numbers are already way down on what they were, just a week ago, as, “stay at home” office workers desert their desks, in favour of their kitchen tables. These namby-pamby, remote workers, didn’t need much of an excuse to abandon their offices and slob around once again at home, perhaps attending the occasional, token, “Zoom meeting.”

The upshot of this contradictory advice can be seen in the already struggling hospitality industry. Hard-hit throughout the pandemic, the sector is currently experiencing a wave of cancelled bookings, with Christmas parties bearing the brunt of this. After the total washout of Christmas 2020, this is the last thing that pubs and restaurants needs.

I saw evidence of this for myself on Thursday afternoon, when I took a walk down into Tonbridge town centre. My mission, as decreed by Mrs PBT's, was to post the Christmas cards, so having popped the local ones through the relevant neighbour’s letter boxes, I queued up at what is now the town’s only post office. This is a section of shop space towards the rear of WH Smith’s, a sorry reminder of a once far more important business and operation.

Like most towns of any size, Tonbridge once had its own Crown Post Office. These were large post offices, directly owned and managed by what was originally the General Post Office (GPO). Many were distinctive and quite attractive buildings, dating back to the period between the two World Wars. They can still be seen on many High Streets, although many have alternative uses. Tonbridge’s former Crown Post Office* is now the town’s JDW outlet – the Humphrey Bean.

I digress, but the point I am making is that as the demand for postal services has declined, due to much quicker and far less costly means of communication, such as email, the Post Office has found it cheaper to rent out floor space, in separate, and totally unconnected establishments, such as Smith’s.

Mission accomplished, I fancied a pint, despite Mrs PBT’s warning not to set foot in a busy and crowded pub. Unfortunately, she is someone who, swayed by constant reports in the media, is convinced that it’s the end of days on our streets, and in particular the nation’s pubs.

Determined to prove her wrong, I thought I’d find out what was happening on the ground, so to speak. The Beer Seller, which was the first pub I walked past, seemed more or less empty – unusual for 3.30pm on a Thursday afternoon. The aforementioned Humphrey Bean also looked quiet, although in both cases my observations were made by peering through the window.

Next up was the Gatehouse, on the opposite side of the road. That too seemed much quieter than I imagined it would be. Finally, I reached my destination Fuggles, one of the town’s premier beer outlets, and somewhere I knew that wouldn’t compromise on customer and staff safety. Donning my mask, even though it’s not compulsory at present, I walked in.

Only two of the tables were occupied, each by just two persons. There were two members of staff behind the bar. They were also masked, as this has been Fuggles’ policy ever since full indoor service resumed, back in the summer. I ordered myself a drink, a rather nice pint of Gadd’s Yule Special – Little Cracker, a 5.0% Kentish Ruby Ale.

I asked the barmaid if I could take my drink outside, and she of course said yes.  thereby placating Mrs PBT’s unfounded fears about putting myself at risk. There is bench, out on the pavement, primarily for the use of smokers, but with none present, it suited my purpose of enjoying a pint whilst not in the confines of a pub.

Fortunately, the weather was quite mild, although I have to say the diesel fumes from a passing bus, caught up in queuing traffic, weren’t particularly pleasant. The beer was good, and whilst I am not normally a fan of red ales, the inclusion of some rye malt in the grist was a pleasant and flavoursome touch.

After finishing my pint, I made my way home, and made a point of telling my good lady wife, that I had enjoyed a beer OUTSIDE of a pub. She of course, knew that I would grab a beer whilst down the town, but used the news about the pubs being quiet, as reinforcement that people were heeding the warnings.

In a way, she was right, and this afternoon the Evening Standard couldn’t wait t break the news that the daily Covid infection rates were at their highest since the start of the pandemic. No mention of course, that testing is also at an all-time high, so much so that pharmacies have reported a shortage of lateral flow test kits. We have witnessed this at work, with some members of staff testing themselves on a daily basis, even though there is clearly no need to.

Meanwhile the madness continues. I might post another article on this tomorrow, but on the other hand being heartedly sick of the whole Covid debacle, I probably won’t.  

*Footnote: One of the less pleasant tasks my father had to perform, during his final days of working for the Royal Mail, was travelling around south-east Kent, in order to oversee the closure of some of the smaller Crown Offices, in places like New Romney and Hythe. He was glad to retire after that soul-destroying task!