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So dammit. Last Sunday evening flatmate Peter was feeling under the weather, thought he might have a cold. But on Monday morning this was the result. Peter ever so slightly positive on the left, me on the right. He immediately went into quarantine in his room, with the balcony doors open for ventilation, mask on for occasional bathroom breaks. And I had to decide if I would still go to Barcelona. In the end I did go, which my friend Michael said was maybe the best thing I could do – get out of the house (casa plaga!) for a few days. So I may ride out the worst of the infectious part while I’m away. I really appreciate Peter being so considerate and responsible, keeping away from the rest of the (actually quite small) apartment and doing his best to help out. Let’s hope it’s a short Covid ride.