Explosion

I had a very vivid and realistic dream that my fridge exploded and trashed the kitchen. It was a relief to realise it was fantasy and that I could pad about the kitchen, eating my boiled egg and drinking my black coffee without injuring myself on shrapnel.

At lunchtime I visited Diane from Ormskirk for a haircut. Diane isn’t a hairdresser in it for the artistry, so I had to follow up later at home with a few edits. Today Diane wanted to discuss coronavirus following the news today of an Italian working in Nigeria who has tested positive. I remain convinced that everyone except 87-year olds with existing terminal diagnoses should view coronavirus rationally. There isn’t any point in panicking now, but it would be more concerning if it took hold in Africa as attempts at containment would be more chaotic and poverty does lead to weaker nutrition levels and less resilient immune systems than on the other continents. China seems to have effectively contained its spread domestically, which would be hard to replicate where people cannot follow public health guidance to stay at home, otherwise they won’t earn enough to eat that day. Also I am not sure how the advice to maintain at least a one metre distance from other humans fits with travelling in chapas in Mozambique where five people are usually crammed into each cubic metre.

To pay Diane I had to conduct a wild goose chase in the rain to locate a functioning ATM. Roaming these backstreets I was momentarily transplanted back to Juba in South Sudan where unpaved roads in the capital are very common.