It’s been a while since I last blogged! I’m using this quarantine period to get back into the habit of journaling and blogging in a more personal, first-person style, hoping to keep both of us entertained. If it feels like you’ve missed a lot, don’t worry. We’ll catch up as we go. In the meantime, stay safe and remember to wash your hands.
Day 1 has arrived.
Honestly, I saw this coming. I have friends all over the world, including one from business school in Wuhan, where the Coronavirus started. He and his family have been in quarantine since January 23.
Interestingly, you never hear him complain about being confined, cramped quarters, or economic issues. Perhaps that’s due to the discipline and resilience you often find in China.
When Europe got hit, the US seemed to act like it didn’t matter. I saw it approaching like a slow-motion tsunami. It started affecting friends, then more friends, then my family, and finally, me.
I’m not the best at tracking global events, but it seems things escalated faster in California compared to Europe, which is good for flattening the curve.
I could foresee a few weeks ahead, allowing me to prepare a series of backup plans. I discussed these scenarios with my husband, and our conversations often went something like this:
– “What if we can’t [insert something we never thought we’d be unable to do]?”
– “Oh, that won’t happen.”
(Two days later)
– “Told you so!”
– “Uh-oh.”
While I really don’t like being right in these situations, one thing I dreaded being correct about was the potential closure of our RV park. Unfortunately, it happened a couple of days ago. I asked the staff if we could extend our stay to weather the virus. Normally, we must rotate between three military campgrounds around San Diego every 30 days. The staff initially said no. Then they announced that they were closing the park entirely, mentioning it was meant for recreation, not full-time living.
This sparked a mild panic. We couldn’t live on the streets, and apartments likely wouldn’t accept two Great Danes. Where would we leave the RV?
Luckily, the military campground on Coronado Island allowed us to stay while the virus persisted. They closed to holidaymakers and we got in just before they stopped accepting new arrivals.
It was a huge relief, as I wasn’t looking forward to moving to a dreary trailer park off the highway or being separated from David. To complicate things further, the Department of Defense has restricted military personnel from taking leave unless they stay local, and his boss still considers him essential. So, we’re stuck here.
Today, we went cycling to get some fresh air. We’re supposed to stay indoors except for food, medical needs, or exercise, but the whole town seemed to be out. A souvenir shop was open and people were crowded on the beach, some even playing volleyball.
So much for social distancing. I have a feeling we’ll face stricter rules next week.
To add to the uncertainty, the RV park hinted they might close entirely, which would be a disaster. My only hope is that parks near Sea World, usually packed with holidaymakers, might have enough cancellations to let us in.
Given the high levels of paranoia, I wouldn’t be surprised if they stop accepting new residents altogether.