Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 21

Bristol. The Final Destination.

These are the continuing voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Hunter of Hugs. 

Chapter 21: The Power of Hugs.

It was the following morning that we found out about the Elf's dad having covid. This was a real shock to all of us knowing about his health problems. However, he always seemed pretty fit to me so I was optimistic. We know quite a few people now that have caught this virus, with extremely differing results. It seems to be circling around us, ready to strike. This certainly took the edge off our celebratory mood. 

We needed help. 

We needed hugs.

After we had dragged ourselves out of our first night in the Gnome next to a busy road, the first thing on my mind was not hugs, it was coffee. This is when I discovered a design fault in our home on wheels. We had fitted solar panels to drive an inverter, which in turn powers the coffee machine. One minor problem with solar panels is their insistence on having some sunshine. Since arriving in the UK we'd had zero. Zilch. Nicht. Black clouds are not conducive to charging batteries. Of course, if I'd thought of bringing an adapter we could have plugged the Gnome in. Worse than that, I had brought one, I'd just forgotten I had done so, and found it when unpacking upon our return. Age...

I was in dire need of hugs. However, hugs have been officially banned by the government, and the thought police are all around us. Should we attempt illegal hugs? Could we risk breaking the law just because of a coffee addiction? Could I insist that hugs were necessary to test my eyesight? 

Yeah, maybe.

But there was another solution. Our secret weapon number two.

Full personal protective equipment. Ha! Gotcha, you viral bastard! 

For instance. We had specialised French anti viral masks:

Specialised whole body plastic coveralls:

And special filters:

With a combination of these things, were we within our rights to hug? Was it within the law to reduce our social distances? Would any attempt at close contact mean a knock at the door and a call of "'Allo 'allo, what's going' on 'ere then?"

It is not within the terms of this blog to describe exactly what happened, for fear of legal reprisals. Suffice to say that it was a touching moment...

And so our stay in the UK was drawing to a close. We had achieved our first objective. We had met with our long lost family. Now it was farewells and wondering where and when on earth we would be able to meet again. Bittersweet.

But what of our second objective? That of returning with my eldest offspring? Fate had another twist of the knife ready for us. He could not return with us, but would hope to come over soon. That hope, too, was to to be impeded by what was soon to come, along with the rest of our plans...