Хроники самоизоляции: на берегу (En)

If I remember correctly, the Victorians believed in the “curative” nature of the seaside resorts that became fashionable at the time: you could bring your misery to a small coastal place, running away from noisy London full of contagious diseases and sulphuric odours, and fresh air would cure your ennui and self-righteous displeasure at your constant failures.

Isn’t now the perfect time to remember all that? The only problem is that you can’t go anywhere, except walking around places (luckily, you can take your walks as far as you want, not to mention cycling; well, not actually cycling, because it’s atrocious).

We went to the river by the Industrial Museum for the first time in many months: it was so long ago that we even goofed a bit and chose Gwydir instead of Kingston Str., but nevermind that: it made our walk slower, of course, but no less pleasant.

Boy, does Cambridge look magnificent now. The lilacs have gone already (there is still a hint of their scent in the air, though), but the roses, but poppies, but pansies and peonies. The roses are competing with each other on the scale of absolute gorgeousness, and their aroma is fantastic. 

Red poppies are everywhere, and it’s both enchanting and annoying: they are splendid, but why not in our garden? Who knows.

The river looks much calmer than usual: no students training before the Bumps, only two boats are near the bank, and the owners are sitting fairly far away from each other and listening to reggae (it’s hot, so the music matches the weather perfectly).

We met a lady, also a fellow of Clare, she’s a lecturer in architecture, if my memory doesn’t fail (I certainly saw her at the college feasts). We were having a chat and she described her experience of the very first days of the lockdown: I was on King’s Parade, she said, the day was gloomy, and the street was completely empty. No people, just a murder of crows. A chilling experience, she said, and her American accent sounded melancholic.

I assume it’s easy when it’s gloomy outside. Because, when it’s not, you want to forget about the whole thing and are craving for glimpses of normality even more.