We are still doing very nicely, thank heavens. If we can hang on a few more days, we might be out of the woods...

Inevitably, in these circumstances, you develop a bit of a routine, and a few rituals.

I love my time on the balcony in the cool of the morning. Next up, I rearrange my bed to make it comfortable for sitting on.


The morning schedule involves a quick visit by the doctor, a visit by the nurse who does the daily checks, and the delivery of breakfast.

As you can never quite predict the timing of any of these things, we usually raid our stores to provide our own "first breakfast", so that we're not too starving when the real thing arrives, and we usually defer showers until the comings and goings have finished.

Breakfast is generally a pie and a tart, or a tart and a muffin, or a muffin and a bun -- you get the idea. But this morning we had a really good sandwich, with meat, cheese, and salad in it.

This morning was also notable because it brought the first of the blood tests that are designed to see if/how our antibodies are developing.

Somewhere between 12 o'clock and 2 o'clock, lunch arrives. Somewhere between 5 o'clock and 7 o'clock, there's another knock on the door, and we get tea and another round of health checks.

The people who deal with us are all in full PPE: a one-piece overall that covers the whole body, including a hood over the head and coverings over the feet; an apron; a mask; a face shield; and rubber gloves. In a tropical environment, this requires true heroism, and I'm incredibly grateful to them.


In circumstances like quarantine, you really rejoice in any little breaks in routine. Every lunch and dinner consists of chicken, rice, and vegetables, and even though the preparation of the chicken is infinitely varied (I'm not sure we've had the same one twice), and it's always tasty, it was really nice on Saturday to get fish and egg by way of a change.


In terms of a break in routine, yesterday was a red-letter day. Like Christmas, in fact. We asked a friend if he'd be willing to drop a few items round for us, and he promptly and royally obliged. (You drop things off with the guards, labelled up with your name and room number, and they're delivered with the next meal round.)

So we now have oranges (large and small), apples, a variety of nuts (which Nigel can use to replace some of his rice), a selection of teas (I like to drink water, but it's wonderful to have a change), and -- piece de resistance -- New Zealand CHOCOLATE!

In the early evening it rained, and we had one of those unplannable but idyllic moments: standing on the tiny balcony, watching the rain, drinking our "immunity tea" (elderflower, ginger, blackcurrant leaf, and liquorice), listening to a distant church bell... We even had a monitor lizard swim by, down in the channel, left to right, then back again, right to left, his mission obviously accomplished.


The arrival of the food package means we have a little more autonomy over our nutrition. This we found amazingly cheering. The hardest thing about quarantine for me has been lack of control over food. You can't determine what you get or when you get it. I completely understand why, and this is not a criticism, but for people who eat a) early, and b) low-carb, it's been a bit of a struggle at times. The arrival of the supplies therefore feels like a major breakthrough.

We've organized ourselves a reasonable exercise routine, and we've now established a "TV hour" in the evening, when we watch the DVD of Mad Men that we recorded ages ago, with the computer balanced on our laps. That is also probably going to be the "chocolate moment".

Yesterday evening, by way of variety, there was a lightning storm. It's so long since we've seen one. Nature's laser show.

Otherwise, we continue with the things we normally spend our time on anyway...

So we're doing OK, and every day that goes by brings us closer to safety. We hope.