I don’t know whether it’s just me, but ever since COVID and the lockdowns, I get anxious on journeys and find public transport a challenge.
Four years have passed since the first lockdown. Sometimes I forget about those limitations on our freedom and the deadly nature of the threat we faced. The sense of comradeship at first, despite the physical distance. Arranging to walk past a friend’s flat and shout ‘Hello,’ when they came to the window. It all seems dreamlike now – as though none of it happened.
I’ve heard that lockdown itself had a lot in common with spending time in prison – which might account for the unreal quality of lockdown memories (not that I’ve spent time in a prison). I don’t know, but it’s a thought. Anyway, life is difficult four years on.
A couple of weeks ago, I ventured to the Home Counties on a direct train line, with a pub lunch as a reward. And yes, I felt anxious the further I got from London.
I share a collage photo below:
Till next time.