The noose is tightening

Friday 6 March 2020

 

I pulled out of another conference today, one that was scheduled for three days’ time. Pulling out of conferences and meetings is becoming something of a habit at the moment. This one is called the International Media Marketplace (IMM) and is run by a first-class organisation called TravMedia. Not attending is a big decision, as I had arranged for 11 interviews with tourist organisations, sufficient to give me enough work for at least another year. It was a fellow writer who had given me doubt, as she explained that last year she had gained few commissions from the event, if any at all. She was worried that this year there would be plenty of younger travel writers who had returned from the middle-of-nowhere, and the chances of disease transmission must be increased.

I took the plunge and wrote as courteous an email as I could to the organisers:

“Please forgive me for cancelling this appointment… Although IMM is going ahead, at least that is what we have been advised, my own view is that to attend a mass gathering of any sort at the moment is a risk. This is not so much to the individual, who can take their chances, but to those with lesser resistance that the individual subsequently encounters… That is how diseases are spread. I have thus decided not to attend mass gatherings until it is clear how Covid-19 is shaping up…”

I imagine I will be damned forever and side-lined for lack of backbone. Or, maybe it will set folk thinking. What seems apparent is that all of the cancellations I have so far confronted have been the decision of the organisers, not of a government. Could this be so that Government can say, when the economic consequences are seen, that they did not make the decision? Could our masters already be preparing themselves for blame allocation?

I decided to see an elderly relative today. She lives on the south coast, is aged over 90 years and certain to do badly if Covid-19 comes her way. To date I am healthy, but the situation may be different in a week’s time, so I wanted to see the relative while I could. She is being looked after in her home by carers, who are also frightened about what is happening.

As I drove from London to the south coast, I made the mistake of listening to the news as I travelled. The interviews were terrifying and there was an especially harrowing session with a resident of Teheran, who was describing life in the Iranian capital at the moment. He was confined to his apartment, had a single mask, and was drying it on a radiator between wearings. This was in the belief that the virus did not like heat and would be killed rapidly using the technique. I had not thought of it, but he may be right. Full credit to him for trying. He had a slightly nasal voice, so I guessed had some form of infection, although I could not tell if this was Covid-19. He was describing empty shops, and mosques that were closed, something that had not happened in his memory.

When the Brexit negotiations were taking place, I became so fed up with the BBC news bulletins, as they were invariably filled with gloom and disaster, that I stopped listening to the radio for least six months. It was wonderful. Now, with Covid-19, I have gone back to my old ways. Listening to the news is certainly not making me any happier. Looking back, the Brexit era was a doddle. Covid-19 makes for difficult listening and I find it impossible to stay relaxed.

Meanwhile there is dissent in China from those who have been placed under enforced quarantine, in some cases since 22 January. I was surprised to hear that China was allowing the message about dissent to be spread at all. Maybe it is because the Chinese method, if that is what it is, appears to be successful. Ever so slowly their figures are improving, although the rest of the world cannot say the same. I hear much about this being made possible by the Chinese authoritarian regime, whereas other countries are more liberal. I am not sure that locking up whole populations in UK would go down well, nor beating those seen to be escaping, nor forcibly taking citizens to holding areas if they spike a small temperature. I am sure that would lead to instant civil strife in UK.

The road to the coast was a problem, as I drove south towards my elderly relative. In addition to the risks from Covid-19, part of the dual carriageway was flooded, so my journey took 45 minutes longer than I had planned. I made it to the coast eventually, to find my relative looking comfortable and fine. She had been looking non-stop at television for several days and knew more about Covid-19 than anyone. We touched elbows rather than hugged, I then checked her carers were up to speed with keeping everyone clean and was on my way back to London two hours later.

While I had been at my relative’s house, my mobile had rung. On the line was a charming woman telling me that yet another meeting next week had been cancelled. This time it was the Writers’ Summit, scheduled to run alongside the London Book Fair. Initially the organisers had thought to continue but had eventually decided against. I replied that I fully supported the decision and could hear the relief in the woman’s voice when I said this. Even better, I am due a refund. I will believe it when I see it, of course.

There is increasing talk about a vaccine and I heard a fascinating interview with a Scot, who was based in California’s San Diego. She was integrally involved in the manufacture of a vaccine and spoke extremely well. She reminded us that her company had only received the genetic sequence of Covid-19 on 11 January and was hoping to start the Phase 1 trials of a vaccine in early April. She was looking more towards the end of this year before she felt something might be available for the general public. Her first candidates would be healthcare workers, she said, as they were exposed to maximum risk when caring for patients with Covid-19 infection.

Around the world there is chaos. One of the advantages of modern communication, even if the news bulletins both depress and terrify me in equal measure, is that I know I am not alone. The US White House is being given grief because the country has insufficient testing kits. At the moment the country has more than 200 cases of Covid-19 in 20 US states, with 12 deaths. Eleven of those have been in the north-western state of Washington.

There is a cruise ship, the Grand Princess, lying at anchor off the California coast, with 3500 people on board. Of these, 142 are British. Test kits have been lowered to them by two helicopters. The ship was not being allowed to dock until the passengers – there are about 100 under suspicion – have been tested appropriately.

Being a cruise-ship passenger with Covid-19 is not always a comfortable thing to be. The BBC carried a good interview with a passenger, a Carl Goldman, from another cruise liner, the Diamond Princess. He had been diagnosed with Covid-19 and reported receiving death threats, some even directed towards his grandchildren. “There are crazies out there,” he said, “and we are now dealing with them.”

Iran is not doing well. So far it has 107 dead. Iraq is also affected, albeit with only two fatalities at the moment. Meanwhile, Israel and the Palestinian Authority have put Bethlehem under quarantine.

In UK, a man in his eighties has become the second person to die of Covid-19, this time in Milton Keynes. The Women’s Six Nations rugby match between Scotland and France in Glasgow has been postponed after a Scottish player was found to have contracted the virus. This has led to seven other members of the squad and management being in self-isolation. A big problem with self-isolation is that even if you do not acquire the disease yourself, contact with it, in any form, means you are destined to spend 14 days locked away. There is increasing discussion in the media about the psychological effects of being stuck indoors for such long periods. People are not happy.

The UK government has promised another £46 million to tackle the virus. That does not sound very much to me, when the annual NHS budget is roughly £150 billion. Meanwhile Facebook has closed its London offices, two British Airways baggage handlers from Heathrow are now self-isolating at home, and visitors to a hospital in Northampton have been stealing hand gel daily, from its wall-mounted dispensers. Drive-through coronavirus test centres have now opened up around the country and Starbucks has banned reusable cups. A church, in the Devonian village of Churston Ferrers, has been closed for a deep clean after a parishioner tested positive and a Hare Krishna temple near Watford, the Bhaktivedanta Temple has also closed, thanks to a viral infection in one of its congregation. There is barely a walk of life in this country that has been untouched by this virus, and we are only at the beginning. There are changes taking place that will be with us for many years to come, of that I feel certain.

I also understand that officials are now working out if the country is still in what they call the containment phase of Covid-19, or whether it is now in the delay phase. The first is when you think there is a chance you can contain the disease and stop it spreading at all. The second is when you realise the battle is lost and all you can do is slow it down. The plans for each are said to be different, so let us see. The number of new daily cases continues to rise and gradually less of the country is being spared involvement. I am astonished our leaders are finding it so difficult to work out what phase we are in. It must be obvious to most with a modicum of education that the battle is lost and all we can now do is delay. Epidemics are like icebergs. What you see is a tiny proportion of the total. There is plenty hidden under the water, usually something like 90%.