As the lockdown starts to fray

Necessary though it certainly is, the coronavirus lockdown starts to become painful after a time. Especially when the weather turns good.

One of my favourite places for walks
A nostalgic old photo. The place is out of bounds now

We live just three or four minutes’ walk from a stretch of woodland where, at one time, I took great pleasure going for walks, with or without the dogs. In these days of lockdown, however, it’s strictly forbidden to do so. Verboten. I look at it longingly as I take dogs past it – yes, Spain still allows us to walk dogs, though only a short distance from home – but I don’t dare go in.

Not everyone does the same. We’re into the fourth week of lockdown here, and we’ve noticed walkers sneaking in, some – oh horror! – even without dogs. Runners too. Even mountain bikers. The lockdown may just be starting to unravel.

When I say that I personally don’t go into the woods, I don’t mean that I never have. I did take to interpreting the ‘short distance from home’ condition on dog walks a little liberally. But one day I was caught by a forest ranger on one of the main paths through the woodland (oh, why didn’t I stick to the small paths?) and he told me, politely but oh-so-firmly, to stay out.

Well, get out first. Then stay out.

I’m British, with the Brit’s respect for the law. In case you’re from some less enlightened country and don’t know our customs, that means understanding that the crime isn’t actually committing it, it’s being caught. If you get away with it once then, hey, there’s a reasonable chance you’ll get away with it again, so you keep trying your luck.

But having been caught once, you don’t try again. A warning the first time? A lucky break. But the next time? That could mean a fine. And the prospect of that fine ratchets up the Brit’s famous respect for the law in me.

Anyway, the little breaches of the rules in our neck of the woods are pretty minor. If you want a real infraction, you just have to go down the coast a bit of a way from here, to the lovely seaside resort of Dénia. It seems 70 families have quietly moved in to their second homes there, no doubt in time for the Easter break.

Dénia and its many charms. Some, apparently, irresistible

That, naturally, is entirely against the lockdown regulations. It must have taken them quite a bit of ingenuity too, especially any coming from Madrid. The police are patrolling the motorways pretty intensively – there are even helicopters out – so they must have come by back roads, to dodge the checks.

They’re there now, anyway. One can imagine that it would be quite a task to chuck them all out and get them back to where they came from. With appealing pragmatism, the mayor has said they can stay, though possibly with a touch of vindictiveness, he’s added that they can’t go to the beach. But then, nor can anybody, so they’re hardly being discriminated against.

Police checking the authenticity of shopping

Much the best case I came across, though, was the little old lady who the police saw walking along a street. She was carrying a shopping bag with a loaf of bread sticking out of it. OK, fine, the cops thought, she’s been to the bakers. But then they saw her again a couple of hours later, again with her shopping bag and a loaf. Did she perhaps not get enough bread first time and have to pop out again? They let the matter pass.

But when they saw her a third time, with bag and loaf, they decided that this really was going over the top. They stopped her and took a look at the bread. 

You could have hammered nails with it, it was that hard.

Poor thing. All she wanted was to get out for a walk from time to time. I just hope the fine wasn’t too painful.

The lockdown’s necessary, as I said. But it can start to get on your nerves after a while. And it certainly feels, here in Spain, that it may just be beginning to fray a little at the edges.