The idea of the local lockdown, in force since Tuesday, is an attempt to control the virus to attain some sort of normality for Christmas.  We mustn’t travel outside of the Andalucían region and there is a curfew between 10pm and 7am.  Whilst bars, restaurants and all non-essential businesses must close by 6pm, realistically all we have to be, is organised. 

How are we affected?  Hmm, little if anything.  We rarely go out in an evening, unless it’s Tuesday night Quiz, but these have been rescheduled for afternoons for a few weeks.  As for wanting to rise earlier than 7am, a typical morning for us is sitting in bed with our first cuppa, watching the sun rise until we see a clear blue sky and then discuss what time we should get up and what we might do through the day.  Stella, being a wonderful patient dog rarely gets her morning walk before 9am, which is one of Steve’s ‘blue’ jobs. 

On Monday, we set off with Maggs and Helena, our neighbours in motorhomes without transport, to stock up on supplies.  We thought we would try a different supermarket, by turning right instead of left, which turned out to be closed for refurbishment so we continued in the same direction towards Marbella dutifully following the satnav to find out that supermarket only had underground parking and with a street market adjacent, parking was impossible.  It is here in the story that I would like to point out that no-one with a normal car ever thinks of a height restriction.  This is something we have to be constantly aware of as our Defender (affectionately named the Poacher) at 2.2m is always too high for any underground parking or car parks with height restriction barriers.  Having a quick discussion between the four of us we decided on the Carrefour at the Miramar Shopping Centre in Fuengirola – https://www.miramarcc.com/en/ – somewhere Steve and I had already visited and knew we could park outside without issue.

This whole coastal area is straddled with the A7 motorway without any way of avoiding it.  We have found out that the Spanish do not have slip roads as we know them.  They have starting blocks.  An incredibly short run up, without any additional slip lane, and at such a sharp angle that Steve driving the UK Poacher just cannot see what’s coming.  To overcome this challenge, whilst we are stationary and Steve waits for direction from me, I slide half of my window sideways to open it, stick my head out and wait for a gap in the traffic.  Not just any gap, but one lengthy enough for me to take a decision that our Poacher with the turning circle of a small football field and acceleration speed of a skip can manoeuvre safely into.  Then, without any pressure whatsoever, I yell at the top of my lungs through the noise of the traffic and engine of the Poacher “Go, Go. For god sake its Ok to go NOW!