Down with coronavirus!
We were due to return to France at the end of March, but, here we are, mid-May, stuck in a coronavirus-riddled UK with my highly vulnerable octagenarian parents. Monsieur Macron would allow us to travel back to our Correzian home, but we simply can't leave my parents alone, as they are effectively under 'house arrest'. I'm relieved that we can be here for them, despite missing my French home like mad. It would have been unthinkably awful to have been stuck hundreds of miles away from them. In France, our friends and neighbours have been subjected to rigorous confinement, having to fill out a dated and timed form every time they leave the house for one of the permitted essential activities. They can take exercise outdoors, but only within 1 kilometre of their homes. Masks have been distributed free of charge to all residents. Supermarkets have not been subjected to shelf-emptying panic-buyers. This is in stark contrast to Old Blighty, where we have had to endure weak l...