The first lockdown seems like ancient history now, something that happened a long time ago, almost to someone else.
I remember peaceful, sunny days and long, warm evenings, all very enjoyable in the loveliest spring there had been for years.
I was alone in London, isolated and perfectly happy in my Jan-bubble, foolishly believing that the pandemic and its restrictions wouldn’t last much beyond Easter.
Little did I realise that ten months later, things would be so very much worse. Yes, the end is in sight — fingers crossed — but what have we lost in the meantime?
A woman in my neighbourhood threw a party for more than 100 people on New Year’s Eve, and is now facing a £10,000 fine for her troubles. Can I say something? Good. When police arrived to break up the illegal gathering, they were refused entry. This had echoes of the rule-breaking birthday bash thrown in a West London restaurant by singer Rita Ora (pictured) in November. ‘Sorry,’ she said, after 30 of her nearest and dearest partied all night