Deserted

I went to the airport to pick up Carl who was returning after two weeks in Lanzarote. I live close to the airport, but close as I am I've never made the journey in so little time. The city had looked like a ghost town on Friday night. Tonight was even worse.

Before I knew it I'd parked the car and found myself at the Arrivals level. Empty seats everywhere. Two rental outlets manned, but nobody else in sight. Carl came through to the concourse quicker than I'd expected, holding a handout which detailed how to self-isolate for the next fourteen days.

We exchanged Nemaste greetings and walked to the car along opposite sides of the link bridge. I opened the boot and he put his bags in without touching anything. I opened the car door and he slid across onto the back seat without touching anything. We followed the same procedure in reverse when we got to my place where he'd left his car while away. I handed over the keys of his car which I'd disenfected and placed inside a zip-lock plastic bag. He transferred his bags to his own car and drove off.

Never in our wildest imaginings did we think we'd interact like this.