Blocked roads
One of my early teaching jobs involved introducing a rowdy group of teens to the world of geography. More specifically, their geography. I was new to the area, and trying to explain the various regions of their province was arbitrary (to both the students and their teacher). I muddled through.
Well, today, that map of the regions took on a new coloration. The provincial government has erected checkpoints and roadblocks on the major routes, turning inter-regional tourists back. Quarantine, by flashing lights. Actually, I have never seen such measures applied to such a large area before now. Asking people to stay home is virtuous. Sending them back mid-route is practical. As the ad playing on TV, right now, points out: “we need to keep our distance”.
Locally, nothing like that in place, but it will happen. I’m starting to grasp that the toolkit available to the authorities is limited. You can no longer board a domestic flight or train (does that even exist?), if you have any symptoms. I’m sure the fence will tighten. I watched the last sail-by of my local ferry as a method of passengers getting off this island and on to another, for the near future.
I went to the mail box, this afternoon. Other than someone on a snow machine, and an errant grouse, I saw nobody/nothing. We’re awaiting our next coffee shipment, and I hope that early next week will see me with lots of beans about. I’m unsure how being trapped in the house without my favourite beverage would play out. Water is nice; coffee is much nicer.
