After 6 months of talking to myself I decided to go to the UK for a month. I booked my ferry and a few days later the Prime Minister imposed quarantine so for the first two weeks I had to stay inside my son's house. I am not a sedentary person so on day 2 I left the house at 5.30am, just before sunrise and walked briskly to the seafront. Nobody would be checking up on me at dawn surely, but I was surprised to see that quite a few people go out at 5.30am and I am assuming they were not all escaping quarantine. During my two weeks imprisonment I vacuumed, lots, cut down rogue trees, removed blackberry bushes, sorted out their files, getting rid of several years of stuff and ....
When I was finally free I managed to see other members of my family, including my 4 year old grandson. I was explaining to him why I couldn't visit before when he said, 'I am going to tell the government to stop quarantine, then I am going to throw them all in the river.' If only.
During my visit I came to the conclusion that Britain is not functioning, on any level. You can't see a doctor, or even a nurse, when you have something seriously wrong with you let alone have check ups. which protect people from getting ill, or worse. If you can make contact with a doctor it is by telephone, not even video, and they give you a diagnosis without even seeing the problem. My sister, in desperation, went to the pharmacy to ask for painkillers and the pharmacist said she had shingles. Government agencies seemed to have stopped working altogether and while masks are compulsory for customers in shops, the people who work in them don't wear them.
Amongst my mail on my return is a flyer from the local butcher and on offer is beef tongue, beef cheek and beef tail and andouillettes, which are the most disgusting sausages in existence (innards); so what has happened to the rest of the cow?
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