30 things to do before I turn 30: the results

This time last year, less than a month into furlough, and firmly invested in the national optimism/naivety that All This would be over by summer, I wrote a list of 30 things I wanted to do in the year before I turned 30. 

A year later, I'm staring down a 6-day barrel at 30, so it's time to look back and see how I got on. Before I begin, I should point out that the Covid restrictions lasted a lot longer than anyone anticipated, and are ongoing as I write this, which massively affected my ability to do... well, anything, really. 

1) Visit the flower fields in Amsterdam - No

As I write this, we're in peak tulip season... and it's against the law to leave the UK for a holiday. So no, I haven't made it to the flower fields this year. I'm hoping for spring 2022, if Eurostar has reinstated Amsterdam Centraal services by then, but if not, I've just discovered this alternative, much closer to home, which I hope to visit next year, whatever the international travel situation.

2) Go up the i360 Brighton - No

Technically, I could have ticked this one off last summer and autumn, when things reopened here in the UK. My thinking at the time was to wait a while to get the first rush out of the way, and before I knew it, we were back in lockdown again. A classic case of carpe diem and all that jazz. 

3) Visit Hampton Court Palace - No

See 2.

4) Bake a rainbow cake - No

A slice of rainbow cake from the Hummingbird Bakery

The intrinsic beauty of rainbow cakes, aside from their colour, is the size of them. By virtue of being constructed from several different sponge layers, they tend to be towering, sugary monoliths. Making such a huge cake at a time when there were only two people to eat it has seemed silly. Once we're able to see more people again, I'll make a rainbow cake to share. In the mean time, I've made do with a few rainbow cupcakes, to test out my new food colourings.

5) See &Juliet in the West End - No

Alas, theatres haven't yet reopened, and this show doesn't return until September 2021. It's still on my list though.

6) Tour the Harry Potter Studios in Hertfordshire - No

See 2 and 3.

7) Explore Leeds Castle - No

See 2, 3 and 6.

8) Spend a weekend in Liverpool - No

Again, a weekend away in this country is something that I could have done last autumn, when things briefly reopened, but many restaurants, shops, museums and the like were still closed or operating shorter hours. I didn't see much point in travelling if it meant missing out on experiencing everything the place has to offer, so I've put this one on hold until later this year or next year.

9) Make an item of clothing - Sort of

This is an interesting one, in that this time last year I was really keen to learn how to make my own clothes, having been inspired by a couple of my friends whipping up their own tops and dresses on the sewing machine. Over the past 12 months, I've come to realise that making the clothes is neither my interest nor really my skill area - instead, I enjoy decorating and embellishing items, and leaving the structural integrity of the garment to others. Case in point, my hot air balloon denim jacket - I bought a cheap denim jacket online, then created and attached the decorations myself from scratch, and I absolutely love it. 

10) Visit New York (or at least, plan a trip) - No

The dream is to visit New York in the run up to Christmas, which wasn't an option last year. I'm playing it safe and not booking anything for this year either, but I've got my sights set on Christmas 2022. 

11) Swim in Pells Pools - No

At time of writing, it's almost 14 months since I even entered a swimming pool, which is very unsettling for someone who used to swim multiple times a week. While pools have reopened, there are still some restrictions, including no lockers and no showers, so I'm waiting until things are a bit more normal before resuming swimming.

12) Visit Disneyland Paris - No

As with New York, international travel hasn't really been an option in the last 12 months, but I still hope to do this in the next couple of years.

13) Visit the House of Dreams - Sort of

This south London quirk hasn't yet reopened since the first lockdown, but writing this has reminded me to check the website, and tickets for forthcoming open days are now available. I've booked for October, so although I've not actually been yet, it's in the works.

14) Witness a new light festival - YES

Christmas at Hever 2020

I was devastated to miss my beloved Christmas at Kew in 2020, but managed to slightly plug the light festival-shaped hole in my heart with a trip to Hever Castle's own take. Peter Pan was the theme, with miniature London landmarks illuminated, plus a couple of light tunnels and an illuminated fountain. 

15) See a play at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre - No

The summer 2021 line-up has been announced, but to be honest, there's nothing on there that really appeals to me. In recent years, 101 Dalmatians and Peter Pan have both been on the programme, so I'm going to hold out and hope for something along those lines next year.

16) Spend a night in a hostel - No

No. Also less inclined to try this one in future. Next.

17) Try a new hobby - YES

Phrases like 'ice skating' and 'rock climbing' were bandied around this time last year, but those sorts of activities have been largely off-limits ever since. I can't wait to go ice skating again, but in the mean time, I've taken up roller skating in an entirely-unserious manner. I don't have much in the way of skills just yet, but I'm learning, and have treated myself to the above jazzy skates.

Being stuck at home for a year has also meant I've picked up a needle and thread again, and rediscovered my love of embroidery. I've been chronicling some of my projects over on my new Instagram account.

18) Eat in The Parlour at Fortnum & Mason - No

A combination of restaurants being closed, and me not being in the vicinity of London has prevented me from ticking this one off, but it's still very firmly on my to-do list.

19) Go stargazing at the Royal Observatory - No

I've only been to London once in the last 14 months, and that was a whistle-stop tour around the area near my (ex-)office, for a brief meeting and to clear my desk before my company moved out. No touristing was done, so this one's still on my list.

20) Clear my bookshelf - No

I was so, so close to clearing one of the two shelves on my bookshelf... and then I saw my best friend for the first time in months. We're always swapping books and passing our old books on to each other, so she supplied me with enough reads to refill the shelf I'd almost emptied. Basically, I'm stuck in a never-ending cycle of book ownership, and I'm not too sad about it.

21) Wear more colour - YES

OK, 'wear' is pushing it, considering I've been living in leggings, tracksuit bottoms and hoodies for a year now. But I've definitely been more colour-forward in the few new garments that I've purchased this year. Case in point; two rainbow jumpers, a rainbow cardigan, a pink coat and yellow trainers. Now I just need an occasion to wear them outside my house...

22) See Cirque du Soleil - No

As far as I'm aware, this show hasn't resumed in London since the first lockdown. It looks like it's schedule to be at the Royal Albert Hall in January 2022, so all being well, I'll catch it then.

23) Visit the Kent coast - No

Again with the waiting until things had calmed down a bit, and then missing my opportunity. 

24) Restart this blog - YES

Since summer 2020, I've been posting my monthly updates again, and I've also written a few other posts. When things get back to normal, I hope to resume normal service - think afternoon tea reviews, travel updates and generally more life.

25) Book a Trek America trip - No

Sadly, Trek America was one of the first travel companies to fall victim to the pandemic, and it seized trading in summer 2020, so this is one that I won't ever be ticking off. However, some sort of American road trip remains at the top of my travel bucket list. Watch this space.

26) Splurge on a special treat - Sort of

Originally, a Mulberry handbag or Kate Spade clutch was what I had in mind for this item on my list. But a combination of barely setting foot in a shop, and having nowhere to wear a special item over the past 12 months has meant I'm not yet the owner of a pricey new investment handbag. I did, however, splurge on the above roller skates. They cost a fraction of the price of a handbag, but I still spent a few weeks debating whether to buy them before taking the plunge.

27) Plan a 30th birthday party - No

Well, unless you count a picnic with a very select group of friends, in my local park on a windy and rainy bank holiday Monday. On my 30th birthday, restrictions will mean that I'm only allowed to meet up to five other people, and it has to be outside. I didn't fancy a pub garden on a bank holiday weekend, so I've gone for the picnic option. What could possibly go wrong?

28-30) Come up with three more things for this list

Given that I ticked off very few of the existing items on this list, adding more didn't seem like a great idea.

The results

4 yes, 2 sort of and a whole lot of no. In my defence, that's largely due to the Covid restrictions going on for longer than anyone anticipated, but I also missed my chance to do a few things when restrictions were briefly relaxed last summer.

The whole picture: March 2021

Chiddingstone Castle in spring

What I've done and where I've been in March

As many people have said, March has seemed a very hopeful month. Here in England, schools reopened, and we've gradually been allowed to meet up with friends and family outdoors. Day to day, not a lot has changed for me, but I have met a friend for coffee in the park a couple of times.

I've also been venturing a little further afield, driving out to a local village to take some photos of the spring flowers, and to Chiddingstone Castle and village to catch the blossom in bloom. 

What I've been reading in March

I've been whizzing through books in March, mainly spurred on by Number 21 on this list, as my self-imposed deadline looms ever closer. Here's what I've been reading, and what I thought:

• The Zanzibar Wife by Deborah Rodriguez - A curiously named book, as it's the story of three different women from three very different backgrounds. It's very well-researched in terms of Oman and Zanzibar culture, and it's refreshing to see such a story told through female eyes. The characters are very well-developed, making for a gripping read.
• Francesca's Party by Patricia Scanlan - At almost 600 pages, I was anticipating this one to contain a lot of fluff and filler. In reality, not a single word is wasted, as Scanlan tells the story of a middle-aged woman who finds out her husband is having an affair, and proceeds to divorce him. Not an original story by any means, but it's told with an emotional depth which reduced me to tears.
• Smoke and Mirrors by Elly Griffiths - If I were to judge books by their covers, I'd never have picked this one up. Its dark colours suggest a blood-soaked, violent crime thriller. In reality, it's more about the detective work than the gore, following the case of two murdered children in 1950s Brighton. An enjoyable read, but the fact that I can't remember much of the plot just a few weeks later tells you all you need to know about how memorable it is.
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• Glass Houses by Sandra Howard -The only book I gave up on this month, Glass Houses is the story of a newly-appointed Cabinet Minister in the British Government who's having an affair. The author is the wife of Michael Howard, so presumably it's born from experience of living in the political world, but so many characters are introduced so quickly, keeping track becomes a real exercise in intellect, making reading it a chore rather than a pleasure.
• At My Mother's Knee and Other Low Joints by Paul O'Grady - O'Grady's cutting way with words has always been a source of amusement in our house, and I'm pleased to report that he translates well from screen to page. This autobiographical book is the story of his upbringing in Birkenhead, skilfully told so that each of the characters is really brought to life. Be warned though, this volume only takes him to the cusp of adulthood, ending on something of a cliffhanger... you'll have to make your way through several more tomes to get the full Lily Savage story.
• The Way We Were by Marcia Willett - An enjoyable easy read, about two friends who spend a summer together in early adulthood. The story then picks up a couple of decades later. A couple of the twists are extremely predictable, and the main plot point, about a valuable piece of art, is introduced in the first page, then almost completely ignored until it's crammed into the final few chapters, which is an odd way to structure it.
• Jasmine Nights by Julia Gregson - Saba, a singer, and Dom, a military pilot, meet shortly before they're both sent out to Africa on postings during the second world war. As Saba adapts to life performing on military bases, and Dom takes to the skies again after a terrible crash, they cross paths every now and then. Some of the military detail is irrelevant to the average reader, and a few sections drag while others skimp on detail, but it's an enjoyable read.

• Orange Blossom Days by Patricia Scanlan - Like Francesca's Party (above), this is another long but very gripping novel by Scanlan. The first few chapters require concentration, as many of the residents of an apartment complex in Andalucía are introduced very quickly, but once you've got to grips with the characters, their lives are skilfully and compellingly interwoven until the very end. 
• Second Life by S. J. Watson - Less gripping than Watson's better-known novel, Before I Go To Sleep, Second Life is the story of a woman who tries to solve the mystery of her sister's sudden death in Paris. From the beginning, the decisions she makes are hard to understand, making for a far-fetched plot, and some of the storylines offer nothing to the conclusion, leaving the reader wondering why they were even mentioned. The action is crammed into the final few pages, with the ending left open to the reader's interpretation. An average read, but there are better thrillers out there.
• Alys, Always by Harriet Lane - With less than 10 pages left of this contemporary thriller, I was bracing myself for either a thrilling twist that would make it all worth while, or a complete disappointment that would render the whole novel a waste of reading time. Frances, the last person to speak to a woman dying in a car accident, becomes friendly with the woman's family after her death. It gradually becomes clear that she's got an ulterior motive, but writing the novel in first person, while not revealing any of her thoughts, plans or motives to the reader is an odd choice. Ultimately, those last 10 pages reveal nothing of interest, and I'm left wondering why I bothered.

What I've been watching in March

Ginny & Georgia - not the new Gilmore Girls, but worth watching.

• Ginny & Georgia - If anyone tells you this Netflix series is the new Gilmore Girls, don't believe them, or at least, don't go in expecting the cosiness of Luke's Diner. Sure, it's about a mother-daughter relationship, but it's also about drugs, sex, violence, vibrators... we're not in Stars Hollow any more. However, if you go in without any preconceptions, it's an absorbing, easy watchable teen drama series with well-rounded and intriguing characters. Fingers crossed for a second series to see how that ending turned out...
• Firefly Lane - This Netflix series follows the friendship of two women, with flashbacks allowing us to see them at three points in their lives - as teenagers, as young women in their first jobs, and now, in their forties. It's structured in such a literary way that it's no surprise to learn it was a book first. The series ending leaves a massive plot point unexplained, presumably to pave the way for a second series. Apparently the book does offer an explanation, so I'll be buying myself a copy as soon as there's room on my shelves. Beyond that, it's a really enjoyable show with compelling, strong characters and cleverly woven storylines.

Firefly Lane is a story of female friendship

• Behind Her Eyes - Back in 2017, when this novel was published, I remember telling everyone who would listen that it contained the best plot twist I'd ever read. Fast forward four years to the release of the Netflix series, and I was in the awkward situation of remembering enough about the book, but not so much that I could remember what happened. As I got stuck into the series, it came back to me, and although I prefer the book, it's definitely worth a watch if you're into slightly supernatural thrillers.
• Unforgotten - With the fourth series released, I thought it was time to catch up on this detective drama. A police team investigates historical murders, unravelling the stories behind bodies dating back decades. It's exactly the sort of drama I love - mysteries, clues, not too much gore, easy to follow. Spot on.
• Superstore - I'm most of the way through series 2 and I cannot decide whether I like this series, or really hate it. It feels a bit like one of those low budget American sitcoms that wound up in the off-peak slots on Channel 4 in the noughties - yet I can't stop watching. It follows the day-to-day lives of the employees of an American superstore, alternating between highly predictable and completely far-fetched storylines. Strong characters make for some good laughs.
• Life On Mars - I missed this one the first time around, but I remember it being a big show, so thought I'd give it a go. The first series was great, but I'm currently on the second series and it feels like it's being stretched out further than necessary. Fantastically witty script though. Moving on to Ashes to Ashes next.
• Book Smart - I know this was a hugely popular film when it came out, so I was excited when it came to Netflix... but I couldn't get through it. Half an hour in, with two highly unlikeable characters, I found myself bored enough to switch over to something else.

Book Smart - not for me

• Penguin Bloom - First of all, there are no penguins in this film. But other than that, it's a very sweet story of a family coming to terms with the mother's new disability, with the help of a feathered friend. Good for the soul.
• Bridget Jones - I went through a classic rom-com phase this month and watched a few old favourites, including the two Bridget Jones films. They have not aged well. She's a terrible person, many of the scenes grate painfully - how was this so popular once upon a time? Nice to see some retro shots of London though.
• Definitely Maybe - Ah, this is how a rom-com should be done. A sort of blueprint for How I Met Your Mother, this film portrays a father telling his daughter the story of how her parents met. Cute, soppy in all the right places, and predictable without being dull, it's a gold standard rom-com, exactly what the genre should look like.
• Stepmom - Sobfest central. I watched this film, about a mother with a terminal illness, struggling to accept her children's new stepmother, several years ago. Could it really have been as emotional as I remembered? Yes, yes it is. Beautiful, heartbreaking, emotional. 

Yes Day - less cheesy than you might expect

• Yes Day - One of Netflix's big releases this month, Yes Day is about a family who let the kids run the show for a day. Cue an ice cream challenge for breakfast, an unconventional visit to a car wash, and plenty of rollercoasters. Of course, family relationships change and heal against the backdrop of the day, but it never quite strays into cheesy territory. A joyous, family-friendly film that's easy to watch, and will probably stand the test of time and remain popular for years to come.
• Moxie - Everything that I thought Book Smart (above) was going to be, Moxie is about a high school student who anonymously publishes a zine calling out sexism in her school. She unintentionally creates a whole protest movement. A teen drama with far wider appeal than just teenagers, Moxie feels extremely relevant right now. 
• Little - Reverse 13 Going On 30 or Big, and you've basically got the plot of Little. A successful businesswoman and terrible human being, Jordan finds herself back in the body of a teenager, and predictably, is stuck there until she realises the error of her ways and learns to be a better person. There's nothing really to commend this film as worthy of your time. Some fantastic outfits though.

Juliet, Naked is a charming watch

• Juliet, Naked - Probably a little too twee for some tastes, Juliet Naked is set in an English seaside town, between Duncan, a man obsessed with singer Tucker Crowe, and his girlfriend Annie, who finds herself unintentionally befriending Crowe after the couple split. The soundtrack is decent, with a very catchy rendition of Waterloo Sunset, and Aussie Rose Byrne's Estuary English accent is charming. Actually, charming is the best way to describe the whole film - it's not pushing any boundaries, but it's a cute watch.
• Otherhood - I won't lie, for the first 10 minutes I was trying to work out why one of the faces was so familiar - turned out to be Lynette from Desperate Housewives. Three women, feeling abandoned by their adult sons when they forget Mother's Day, take a road trip to the city to pay them a surprise visit. Secrets come out, arguments are had... it's an interesting concept for a film, but crams too much in to allow the audience to feel any emotional connection to any of the storylines.

Follow me on Instagram and Twitter to keep up with my latest adventures (I should be so lucky).

Leigh village in spring

See also - what I got up to in:

• February 2021: Still not a lot going on
• January 2021: Not a lot going on
• December 2020: Sewing, mud and Christmas cards.
• November 2020: Scarecrows and Christmas lights.
• October 2020: London, baby!
• September 2020: Seals, beach huts and ice cream.
• August 2020: Cream tea, rooftop jaunts and sunflowers.
• July 2020: Castles, wildflowers, and a return to blogging.

Flying home in a Covid lockdown

Our experience of being abroad in March 2020 when Covid-19 hit. Continued from here.

A view of Corralejo town on our first day. We never got a chance to return.

Throughout our week in limbo as the hotel closed down around us, we got to know some of the other guests. Several had been moved into our hotel from elsewhere in the resort, as accommodation across the island began to shut down. Travellers with flights booked for Manchester, Glasgow and Bristol were put on flights to Gatwick. Couples and families who didn't have airport transfers sorted had to book one taxi per person - such were the rules in lockdown Spain, as taxis were not allowed to carry more than one passenger each.

After a long week holed up in a hotel room waiting and worrying, checking the notice boards multiple times a day for updates, we left on Saturday 21 March, on our original flight, but even that didn't go without several hitches. 

With so many guests now on flights that day, and Spain's rules changed so that the first few rows of coaches were out of bounds to keep the driver safe, TUI had failed to provide enough coaches to transfer everyone to the airport. A Hunger Games-style scramble for seats took place before we'd even left the hotel. When we did finally pull out of those gates, a cheer went up, a coachful of passengers jubilant at escaping their palm-lined prison.

Arriving at the airport, we were confronted with the most chaotic check-in situation I've ever seen. With so many people being bumped from now-cancelled flights to other destinations in the UK, the whole process was understandably taking far longer than normal. Looking back now, it's absolutely mad that we were standing in a heaving crowd for more than an hour, with no social distancing, in a country that was in one of the strictest lockdowns in Europe at the time.

Airside in the airport, things were far from normal. Several of the cafes, restaurants and shops in the terminal were closed at 3pm on a Saturday afternoon, and signs everywhere warned travellers to keep a 2m distance from airport staff. Anyone who overstepped the 2m mark was embarrassed into retreating by a customer service supervisor armed with a megaphone and a tirade in Spanish. We later found out that the airport itself was closing down that night - we were literally on the last plane off of the island, with other UK-bound flights and a couple of German destinations the only others on the departure board.

As a result of the check-in chaos, all UK flights were a couple of hours late boarding. At this point, the atmosphere teetered between relief of getting out of there, and fear that our flight may still be cancelled, and we'd be stuck on an island where literally everything was closing that night. A couple from Wales, originally due to fly into Bristol, told us their son-in-law was having to drive all the way from Swansea to Gatwick to meet them due to their flight being changed.

Hours later than planned, we were seated on the plane, doors secured for departure, ready to taxi to the runway... when it was announced that a passenger had been taken ill at the back of the plane, and that he, his family and their luggage was being removed. The process took over an hour, during which time the cabin staff began chatting to passengers, telling us that it was their last flight for the foreseeable future, and they'd been advised by their employer to apply for a job in Tesco in the meantime. To this day, we don't know whether the unwell passenger was a Covid case or an unrelated illness, but he was transferred into an ambulance waiting on the runway. I do wonder what happened to his family, removed from the last flight and left on an island where all accommodation was closed.

Finally, we took off, and the mood on board was a jovial one, awash with relief at the thought of getting back to home soil. We were heading for Gatwick, with passengers originally booked for other airports including Manchester being provided with coaches to complete their journey. Around quarter to midnight, shortly before we were due to land in Gatwick, the pilot came on the tannoy and announced that Gatwick were refusing us permission to land as they didn't have the ground staff (in hindsight, they had probably already furloughed or made redundant many staff by this point) so we were heading to Stansted. I remember holding my breath as the announcement finished, expecting people to riot at the news of another disruption to an already extremely delayed journey. Instead, the whole plane burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, a mood once again buoyed by the relief that we were almost home.

Almost... but not quite. We were braced to go through some sort of medical screening at Stansted. Would we have our temperatures taken? Be questioned on where we'd been or who we'd been with? How long would we be told to isolate? In reality, in the early hours of that Sunday morning, we were waved through security with barely a glance at our passports, and not even handed a leaflet about Covid. We couldn't believe it. This was less than 48 hours before Boris Johnson made his first TV address, putting us into our first lockdown (I've talked more about this before). A year on, and things have barely changed regarding Covid border controls.

Covid, one year on: Stuck in Fuerteventura

A view from one of the hotel pools. Initially, there were sunbeds below those umbrellas, but they soon disappeared.

A year ago today, we set off on holiday. Nothing unusual about that - it's become a privileged habit in recent years for us to go on holiday in February/March, an ideal time of year for escaping the doom and gloom of the British winter while also dodging the higher travel prices of school holidays. Two years ago, we went to Jamaica, and three years ago our destination was Cuba, but this time, we settled for the short-haul destination of Fuerteventura - which turned out to be a wise choice, all things considered.

This holiday was to be a memorable one, for all the wrong reasons.

On 10 March 2020, Covid-19 was lurking in the background. There had been a few cases in the UK, but nothing too alarming - certainly nothing to give any indication of the sheer magnitude of chaos it was poised to unleash. A month previously, a hotel in Tenerife had hit UK headlines when it was put into lockdown due to a Covid outbreak, but other than that, reports of Covid in Europe were few and far between, with the press still focusing on the situation in China.

Arriving at Gatwick early that Tuesday morning, bleary-eyed from the early hour, and wrapped up in the nervous anticipation that comes with travelling, we checked into our flight with nothing amiss. It was only once we'd cleared security and bagged a table for an airside breakfast at Jamie's Italian that a glance at the departures board revealed that all flights for Italy - and only Italy - were disrupted. Unusually, the flights weren't declared as 'cancelled'. Instead, passengers for those flights were directed to the Information desk. At this point, we assumed that the issue was Covid related, perhaps that Italy had closed its borders to all but Italian residents. Our assumptions were proven correct in the coming days when Italy was faced with the biggest Covid outbreak seen in Europe to date.

We intended to return to Corralejo. We never got a chance.

Aside from a broken tooth incident (not mine) on the plane, our journey to Fuerteventura went uninterrupted, and our holiday got underway. Our hotel, the Riu Oliva Beach Resort, was split into two parts - the main hotel building, and a series of motel-style rooms on walkways in the gardens opposite. We were in the latter, and despite our initial frustration at trying to find our room in the sweltering heat, suitcases in tow, the isolated location of our room turned out to be both a blessing and a worry.

The following day, our first full day on holiday, was spent tracking down a dentist in the town of Corralejo to deal with the broken tooth. Emergency dentistry compete, we took the opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with the town, which we had visited eight years previously, and spent the morning recognising shops and cafes, admiring the new additions and planning what we'd visit when we returned to the town centre in a couple of days time for the market - and which ferry we'd catch over to Lanzarote for a day trip the following week. How naïve we were.

The next couple of days passed in a blur of beach days, pool dips, and evening cocktails. Gradually though, things began to change. Posters in the hotel lobby advertising a local festival the following week had 'cancelled' stickers plastered over them. Word went around among the hotel guests that the town market we'd been planning to visit on Friday was cancelled. Guests were checking out, but nobody seemed to be checking in to replace them. Covid was coming, but we still had no idea of the magnitude. 

'Soon there will be more goats than people', we joked, until suddenly, it wasn't so funny.

As a rule, I don't use the internet on holiday - my job revolves around the internet and social media, and emails, so I like to switch off when I'm away. The same with TV - I rarely watch it on holiday. However, this time we were tuning into the BBC World News channel in our hotel room every evening, mainly out of curiosity as to how the Covid situation was shaping up elsewhere, rather than any real concern that it might affect us on our little island in the Atlantic.

On Saturday 14 March, everything changed. Laying on a sunbed by the pool, half dozing, half earwigging on other guests' conversations, we heard the alarming news that holiday companies had cancelled all flights into and holidays in the Canary Islands with immediate effect, and some were evacuating tourists immediately. I ran back to our room to grab my phone and see the news - and from that point onwards, I was glued to the screen, refreshing news live feeds, for the entire holiday. It was true, flights in were cancelled, with planes being sent over empty from the UK to get people out, and Spain was heading towards a lockdown.

We returned from lunch one day to find the pool taped off.

The next day, Sunday, signs went up around the hotel that the majority of the restaurants and bars were closing, with all guests directed to the one remaining dining room for all meals. After a morning by the pool, we went to lunch, and returned to find the pool taped off, all sunbeds stacked up, leaving a deck area which had been lively two hours previously completely barren. For me, that was when the seriousness of the situation hit. The hotel - and the island - was literally closing down around us. The gate out of the hotel to the beach was locked, as Spain declared its beaches closed. Lifeguard shacks were boarded up, beach flags removed unceremoniously from their flagpoles. The sea and the pools glistened temptingly, so close to us, but completely out of bounds.

With little else to do, and no further information, we returned to our hotel room for the afternoon. By now, it was clear that our holiday was over, but we still had six days until our flight home, the following Saturday. 

The next morning, TUI called a meeting for its guests at the hotel. Pack your cases and be ready to leave at any moment, we were told. TUI was getting customers off the island as quickly as possible, and we could be called up for an available flight at any time. At the very latest, we would be leaving by Saturday 21 March, our original departure date, as all Spanish hotels had to close down by law on that day.

Cats joined the goats in taking over the hotel.

We had only heard about this meeting from talking to other guests, and when we asked the TUI rep, he was offensively dismissive about our concerns that the message hadn't reached us, and did nothing to quell our fears that news about an earlier flight might also fail to reach us. A year on, this is what makes me most angry about the whole situation - I won't go into too much detail, lest this descends into a rant, but a tiny improvement in communication on TUI's part would have gone a long way to relieving a lot of worry for a lot of people.

We had no idea what was going on elsewhere in Spain or even on the island, other than TV news clips which showed Spanish armed police patrolling streets in Madrid and Barcelona. Our hotel was out in the remote sand dunes, a distance from the town centre - ironically, a location we had admired on our previous trip. The main news from back home was a wave of panic buying, and a shortage of food in British supermarkets. As is normal when going on holiday, we'd left our fridge fairly empty, planning to stock it up on our return. The possibility of returning to empty supermarket shelves and no way of obtaining food became a worry at the back of our minds, but it was a secondary worry in comparison to the main one confronting us - when (and if) we were going to get back home. 

The beach, before it was closed down completely.

It seems crazy to say this now, given the events of the past year and the criticism the UK government had received for its slow actions, but we spent that week worrying that the UK borders would close before we could make it home. With little else to do, and nothing else occupying our minds, we spent each day flicking between English-speaking news channels and watched as one by one, countries closed their borders. Italy, Australia, New Zealand - some weren't even allowing residents to fly back to their homelands. Elsewhere, cruise ships became stranded with thousands of passengers aboard. Between the fear of the borders closing before we could get back, and the fear of missing a message about a new flight, I barely slept for days.

Fewer and fewer guests appeared at hotel mealtimes every day until only the British were left - German, Swedish and French voices slowly disappeared. It was at this point that we became grateful that our room was over the other side of the complex - the five-minute walk between there and the main hotel building for meals was our only experience of the outside world. Guests staying in the main hotel building didn't even have that, just a short ride in the lift down from their room to the restaurant, and back again.

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Day by day, the hotel's resident heard of semi-wild goats quickly went from source of light entertainment to something more sinister - a symbol of humans being run out of the hotel. Our early jokes that there would soon by more goats than people became less amusing by the day, as we sat in our room hearing suitcases being wheeled along the corridor outside, the sound of our fellow guests checking out and flying for the safety of their home countries. Being out on our own, on the other side of the hotel, the only remaining occupied room in the vicinity, it became very isolated, which heightened our fear of being forgotten about/abandoned by Tui. They could have shut the hotel down completely, every member of staff abandoning their posts, and we wouldn't know anything about it until we next walked over to the main building for a meal.

One day, the only human we saw over our side of the complex was our room cleaner. In my broken Spanish, I ascertained that as of that Saturday, she was losing her job after more than 20 years of working at the hotel, not knowing when or even if she'd be back. Despite the sadness of the situation and the sympathy I felt for her, I still wasn't visualising the situation as something that would last for more than a few weeks, maximum two months. A year on, I wonder what happened to her. Has she got her job back? Has the hotel even reopened since we were among the last guests to check out 12 months ago?

To be continued.

The whole picture: February 2021

Another month in lockdown done and dusted. Still, there's 'light at the end of the tunnel', thanks to the planned lockdown lifting dates. Is anyone else fed up of the phrase 'light at the end of the tunnel' yet? It's like the 2021 equivalent of 2020's 'unprecedented situation'. I digress - as with last month, I haven't left my hometown, seen any friends or been anywhere exciting, so I'll keep this as a brief summary of the things I've been up to within my own four walls.

What I've been reading in February

After getting back into reading in January, February has been a bit slower - I've only managed to complete five books, and my aim of clearing my to-be-read shelves by May is slipping away from me. 

• Two For Joy by Helen Chandler - The problem with having a to-read pile which is literally years long, is that sometimes a book you've already read finds its way back onto it - and you're a decent way through it before you realise it's all sounding a bit familiar. The fact that I got so far through it without sounding familiar tells you all you need to know about how unmemorable this book is. An average romantic story about not particularly likeable characters, awkwardly written at times.
• Tell It To The Skies by Erica James - What I expected to be an average easy read turned out to be a hugely compelling story, told across several decades. Beautifully written, the story of Lydia's troubled upbringing goes from drama to mystery, before all is explained in the final pages, set in modern-day Venice. Thoroughly recommend.
• The Book of Echoes by Rosanna Amaka - Never judge a book by the cover, or even the first few pages. I was ready to give up on this one when the opening chapter focused on the spirit of a woman who escaped the slave trade haunting London's docks - as I mentioned last month, I struggle to read anything that involves the supernatural. Perseverance proved worthwhile though, as spirits quickly segued into the stories of two contemporary young black people, each overcoming their own struggles, growing up in Nigeria and Brixton respectively. It's very much a book about race, with themes that ring stronger than ever (a mention of the unsuitability of some of the statues dotted around London feels particularly prophetic, given events of the last year).
• Lovers & Newcomers by Rosie Thomas - This story of a group of retirees and near-retirees, who all move into a country estate together having been friends since university, could have been significantly shorter than the 500+ pages it covers. It's refreshing to see a contemporary novel focusing on the lives, loves and problems of the older generation for once, rather than 20 and 30 somethings. Their individual stories are skilfully recounted and interwoven, all emerging around the centrepiece of the unearthed burial site of an Iron Age Princess - a factor made all the more interesting by my recent watching of The Dig. 
• Hemingway's Chair by Michael Palin - Another victim of my years-long to be read pile, I picked up Palin's first novel with the intention to read it ahead of my trip to Cuba... in 2018. Three years and one global pandemic later, I cracked it open, with high hopes given the author,  and I'm sorry to say, I was disappointed. Impressively, it manages to be simultaneously dull and far-fetched, telling the story of a Post Office worker's life in a small village, his obsession with Hemingway, and... well, that's where it all gets a bit weird. 

As I write this, I've just read the first few compelling pages of The Zanzibar Wife by Deborah Rodriquez - stand by for a review of that one next month.

What I've been watching in February

• To All The Boys: Always and Forever - Yes, it's cheesy, but teenage high school rom-coms like this are right up my street. After loving the first two films, I was keen to see this third instalment, but found it a bit disappointing. The storyline echoes that of The Kissing Booth 2, and Lara-Jean's dilemma over which college to attend doesn't really warrant a whole film. That said, the ending is left wide open for a college years sequel, so fingers crossed for a follow-up film with a new setting to freshen it up. On the plus side, I've added The Little Cupcake Bake Shop to my new York itinerary, when I finally visit.
• The Late Show - Following my philosophy that anything starring the fantastic Emma Thompson is worth a watch, I chose this film to fill a quiet afternoon, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Thompson plays an American TV host, whose career is about to come to an end, with Mindy Kaling as a (too) keen new writer on her show.
• The Judge - A lawyer returns to his hometown for his mother's funeral, where he reconnects with his estranged family. While he's there, his father - the town judge - is accused of murder. A watchable film that encompasses both comedy and sentiment, though it definitely could have been significantly shorter than its 2h22m runtime.
• Leap Year - I put this one on in the background while doing some baking, and it did the job. Entirely predictable, from the moment a high-flying, high-fashion American woman sets foot into a tiny village pub in the Irish countryside, and encounters the unwelcoming barman. You can probably already see where it's going, can't you? 

• Crime Scene: The Vanishing At The Cecil Hotel - A four-part Netflix documentary series telling the true story of the disappearance of student Eliza Lam at the infamous Cecil Hotel in LA. Without giving too much away, it's creepy, fascinating and compelling... until the final episode when the majority of the evidence is explained away.
• Sex and the City - I've been powering my way through all of the original SATC series, ahead of the release of the new mini-series. As I waded through it, I couldn't help but wonder... how did this series ever get so popular? Unlikeable characters, unrealistic lives... I know it was groundbreaking in its content when it was first released, but in 2021 it comes across as outdated (and I don't just mean Carrie's dresses).
• Wonder - A lovely, feel-good family film about a young boy born with facial deformities who starts school for the first time, and faces difficulties interacting with his peers. Nothing groundbreaking, but worth a watch.
• Finding Alice - This TV series seems to have split opinion, and I'm firmly in the 'what was that?' category. I'm a huge fan of Keeley Hawes, but this six-parter about a widow dealing with the aftermath of her partner (not husband - I thought that was going to be an important plot point, but apparently not) is a meandering story with too much going on to really focus on one aspect. I was holding out for a spectacular twist in the final episode which would make the six-hour time investment worthwhile, but it whimpered out without much fanfare. That said, it's been commissioned for a second series, so someone out there must have enjoyed it.

My March playlist is looking pretty meaty already - I've got Behind Her Eyes lined up on Netflix, as I loved the book when I read it a few years back. I've also heard good things about Ginny & Georgia, Firefly Lane and Moxie.

Follow me on Instagram and Twitter to keep up with my latest adventures (I should be so lucky).

See also - what I got up to in:

• January 2021: Not a lot going on
• December 2020: Sewing, mud and Christmas cards.
• November 2020: Scarecrows and Christmas lights.
• October 2020: London, baby!
• September 2020: Seals, beach huts and ice cream.
• August 2020: Cream tea, rooftop jaunts and sunflowers.
• July 2020: Castles, wildflowers, and a return to blogging.

The whole picture: January 2021

 The title of this blog post is a bit misleading this month. I don't want to write another monotonous instalment about my walks around Tonbridge Castle grounds, and you certainly don't want to read it. I thought about putting The Whole Picture on hiatus for a few months, until something actually happens that's worth writing about, but as I've found before, that's a slippery slope towards giving up blogging altogether. Also, I've enjoyed looking back at previous months and years, and I like the idea of having a record of my life out there online.

So for the time being, The Whole Picture will consist predominantly of my thoughts on what I've read and watched. Rest assured, if anything else remotely exciting happens to me, you'll be the first to know. One thing I will say about January is that, despite what everyone else is saying, I think it's gone remarkably quickly (or, to put it in less positive terms, we're 1/12 of the way through the year and I've done nothing of note).

What I've been reading in January

Nine months into this pandemic, I've finally got my reading mojo back. Those of you who are familiar with my reading habits have probably assumed that I've been tearing through books while I've been furloughed, but the truth is, I've really struggled. A couple of books a month has been my average in recent times, but in January I got through a whole eight books, albeit erring on the side of 'culturally accessible' (AKA 'easy' reads). At that rate, I should get through my waiting-to-be-read shelves just in time for Christmas next year (somewhat overshooting my initial target of May this year).

Without further ado, here's what I've read this month:

• Secrets of a Happy Marriage by Cathy Kelly - is what I was reading at the end of last month, and I finished it in the first couple of days in January. Once I'd got a grip of who all of the characters were, and how they were related, it turned out to be an enjoyable, if predictable, read.
• Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng - Possible a controversial opinion, but I prefer this debut novel to Ng's better-known and highly-lauded second novel, Little Fires Everywhere. The mystery of how teenager Lydia ended up drowning in a lake is skilfully unravelled through a series of flashbacks, with the emotions of every member of the family brought to the fore.
• The Good People by Hannah Kent - Although it's beautifully, lyrically written, I gave this book about 50 pages before I had to give up, something I really hate doing. Set in County Kerry in 1825, it centres around a lot of traditional mythology and folklore, which is really not my thing at all. That said, it's received rave reviews, so there's definitely an audience for it out there.
• Jemima J by Jane Green - I have read this one before, on a sun lounger in Cuba, which is apt as it's definitely what would be described as a 'holiday read'. I picked it up again and couldn't remember the full plot, so gave it a go. If you're after an easy, predictable read it's ideal, though I'm not sure it would make it to publication today, as it has some problematic themes around eating disorders.
• One Summer In Paris by Sarah Morgan - A well-written, light-hearted read about two women who meet in Paris, each running away from problems in their own lives. While it's a predictable and easy read, it has an emotional depth that many 'chick-lit' novels lack.
• The Bay At Midnight by Diane Chamberlain - Following my recent discovery of Chamberlain's novels (think Jodi Picoult, without the courtrooms...) I picked up another one this month. The Bay At Midnight is less compelling than others I've read, predominantly because I just didn't care for the characters as much. It's still a worthwhile read, about a woman who discovers the truth about the drowning of her sister several decades previously. Writing that, I realise the synopsis sounds very similar to Everything I Never Told You (above), but the similarity stops there, as each author tells their story in a very unique way.
• Lucy and Linh by Alice Pung - I'm not sure how this one found its way onto my shelf, as it's not something I'd usually pick up. It's a Young Adult book about a teenage girl starting at a new, private school after winning a scholarship. So far, so Mean Girls (albeit set in Australia). But I was wrong to write it off as a shallow teenage book, as it offers a really interesting and personal look at what it's like to be a Chinese (via Vietnam) student in a very white, middle-class school, navigating cultural differences and living with your feet in two very different worlds. Would recommend to anyone, not just teenagers.
• Never Greener by Ruth Jones - It's a real skill to take two completely despicable, ethically bankrupt characters and make your readers actually care about them. That's what Jones does with actress Kate and teacher Callum, who reunite more than 15 years after their first affair and carry on where they left off.

What I've been watching in January

Image: BBC

• Dawson's Creek - I finally finished watching the teen drama I missed the first time around. Yes, it's very nineties, and painfully self-aware, but I enjoyed it as an easy watch. That said, it's not something I think I'd ever watch again, unlike programmes such as Gilmore Girls which have infinite potential for rewatching.
• Death In Paradise - I'm so pleased the Caribbean-set detective series is back. Each episode is like a mini sun-drenched holiday, and having Florence back is a definite improvement. I've not warmed to the new detective Neville Parker yet, though I'm not sure if that's a deliberate choice or a casting faux-pas. And I really hope to see a bit more diversity when they cast the next one - the white, middle-class British guy trope is getting a bit old now. But seriously, I think all past series are available on iPlayer/Netflix, so if you need something to lift your spirits on these grey winter days, give it a watch.
• Groundhog Day - Confession time: I'd never actually seen this one before, but having heard so many people reference it in relation to the events of the past year, I gave it a go. It was... fine. Don't feel like my life has been enhanced by watching it, but at least now I'll know what people are talking about when it comes up in conversation.
• The Dig - I watched this one on Saturday night, then went on Twitter to find that most of the rest of the nation had done the same. It's a beautifully shot, touchingly written dramatisation of the discovery of the Sutton Hoo treasure in Suffolk in the 1930s. Even if history and archaeology aren't your thing, don't be put off as there are some beautiful human stories in there too.
• The Imitation Game - This one's been on my to-watch list since it was released, and I'm pleased I finally got round to it. Thanks to the publicity around it, there was nothing groundbreaking or unexpected, but anything that gives an insight into the codebreakers of Bletchley Park is fascinating.
• Bradley and Barney Walsh: Breaking Dad - I really enjoy these reality-type shows featuring funny celebrities going about their lives (Harry Redknapp's Sandbanks Summer was a gem). In this one, Bradley and his son Barney drive a camper van through Europe, stopping off to do all manner of activities on the way. See also The Chasers Road Trip.

Follow me on Instagram and Twitter to keep up with my latest adventures (I should be so lucky).

See also - what I got up to in:

• December 2020: Sewing, mud and Christmas cards.
• November 2020: Scarecrows and Christmas lights.
• October 2020: London, baby!
• September 2020: Seals, beach huts and ice cream.
• August 2020: Cream tea, rooftop jaunts and sunflowers.
• July 2020: Castles, wildflowers, and a return to blogging.