Quite bittersweet stuff on social media this week with those MEMORIES they pop into your timeline so you can remember where you were on this day however many years ago. I mean, they are usually quite nice, but this year – and especially this week – I am just reminded almost daily that I SHOULD BE IN MÁLAGA.
I don’t actually remember the last time I didn’t go to Málaga in December, even for a couple of days. It’s become such an annual thing… Málaga in the summer and Málaga at Christmas. Needless to say I didn’t get there this past summer either. And in theory I could go as of this Friday, when they relax the travel restrictions so that we can now travel between provinces within our regions. In fact a friend very generously offered to pay for my train fare. But I just can’t. First of all… don’t wanna die! And of course I would not risk infecting other people outside my small living bubble (not an official bubble, but it’s somewhat bubblish).
Since… October??… I started only going out maybe a couple of times a week. During the summer and even September things felt almost normal in spite of the restrictions and even I was feeling less threatened by the virus, while of course taking all the precautions when out. But then numbers started climbing again and I decided to stay home more. Turned out that Andalucía in November had the highest number of new Covid cases and DEATHS since April, so that was probably a good decision. For those who don’t know, I am high risk for catching this fucker, with compromised immune system due to previous cancer and chemo.