As we were preparing to leave our holiday accommodation on Monday morning, we saw on the TV that New South Wales will be closing its border with Victoria, effective Tuesday midnight. That hasn’t happened for over 100 years. I felt sick in my stomach, as it sunk in again, how bad this can be. Not the border closure necessarily, but the infection trajectory and its impact on lives of all Victorians.
It was just as well we caught up with Kiddo and Mic, and we had a good few days together in a beautiful part of Victoria. Tress thought she had made a mistake when we booked the home for those few days, but it turned out to be another serendipitous error. Had Tress booked for the week after, we would not have been able to catch up and have a wonderful break.
I guess that offset a little bit of how I felt with the second wave of this virus that is still wreaking havoc on our lives. We left Lakes Entrance late yesterday morning and as we drove back to Melbourne, the grim news kept coming. The number of new cases were inching towards 200 and accounts of quarantined public housing commission residents left a really disturbing sense within me. The 600 pound gorilla in this second wave, that no one has been willing to point out, is the possibility of Muslims celebrating Eid without observing basic restrains that the virus requires. I guess if anyone points out the role played by Muslims, he/she runs the risk of being labelled a racist or haters of Muslims or some other similar criticisms.
We got home late afternoon and after unpacking we headed out for a meal and when we came back, we saw that Melbourne is subject to a new 6-week lock down.
I felt angry, and depressed. I was angry at Daniel Andrews, the premier of Victoria, for being such an incompetent person in dealing with the hotel quarantines. This morning as I resumed my normal routine of doing some push up’s in front of the television, a journalist gave voice to that anger – that fury, even. We’re not happy, Dan. You have caused us so much grief.