Travelling On

Slowly the regulations are disappearing and we are being allowed more and more freedoms. Who would have thought that planning a train trip into the centre of town would be such a brilliant adventure? Perhaps that's what we should take away from the past eighteen months. That the little things are worth even more. 

Getting back into the swing of things is harder than I thought. Last week I took the train and tube to go for a long awaited walk with a very old and dear friend. We had the most beautiful day with brisk sunshine and coffee and cake in a park and a good couple of hours walking and talking and catching up. 

The next day I went into Spotlight for that rare occurrence-an afternoon of live auditions. We saw six or seven people and everyone seemed to be incredibly grateful for the opportunity to be in a room together and to talk. The actual acting seemed to become the least important part of the day.

Yet  by the time I woke up on Wednesday morning I was more than ready for a day at home in my tracksuit. I'm still finding it hard to imagine that there are weeks when I will be expected to go out every day and work. I'm lucky in that for me those days are fast approaching. In June, I will spend twenty one days filming. We've assembled a brilliant cast and although we may be face masked and keeping our distance, to be out of the house for three weeks every day filming will, I expect, be both exhilarating and exhausting.

Just as with a broken arm, or in my case some years ago, a ruptured Achilles tendon, getting back to full working order needs to be done slowly. I hope I do have cause to have more days where I can work from home and I hope my partner has the same. Not enforced, but enjoyed. I hope that when I'm out and about I have learnt to give people more space and in return I hope I may get the same from the people I travel alongside, or walk down the pavements with. I hope we can all spend more time enjoying the journey, rather than just racing to get to the destination. Having been deprived of the process of getting anywhere for well over a year, it's something we can all relish. So perhaps, just perhaps, we may not be pushed forward in a painful throng as the train door opens. Perhaps we may wait and allow each other to board.

And let's acknowledge that not everybody will be ready to return to what is going to pass as normality at the same time. I've always thought of myself as quite a tactile person. Hugging at the slightest opportunity, whether in the rehearsal room or the corporate meeting room. Yet in my heart I am still hesitant. I want to be sure. I'm lucky enough to have had both vaccine jabs, and I'm more than happy to queue for my booster when ready. But just for a little while longer, I'm happy to keep my distance. Overjoyed to be in the company of friends, and yet for just a little while longer, not entirely comfortable to throw myself into their arms.

June 21 will certainly be an enormous landmark in the journey we've all been on over the last year and a half. but it won't be the end of Covid. The terrible catastrophe that is currently blighting India will remain as a shadow. Together we can make sure that it doesn't fall across us again.