March 22nd in the UK was Mothering Sunday, but in Spain el Dia de la Madre isn’t until 3rd May, so the whole event almost passed me by. In any case festivals like these aren’t turned into huge commercial spectacles in Spain. Back home you can’t walk down a high street without shops trying to tempt you into buying their mother-themed wares or turn on the TV without seeing idealised scenarios in adverts involving flowers, family meals or breakfasts in bed.

As a former newspaper reporter, I’ve always been a news junkie and events like 9/11, the financial crash of 2008 and the London riots in 2011 made me devour everything going in a frenzy of horror and excitement . However, since 2016 I’ve sometimes felt overwhelmed by the news - it was too upsetting, too close to home or too final and at times I’ve wanted to stick my fingers in my ears and sing LALALALA loudly to the world.

In many ways being in lockdown is like normal life - since July I have been working from home running our cycling and hiking holiday house, Casa de Ciclista. And on the odd occasion when we don’t have guests or family staying we’re busy decorating and gardening. When our first guest cancelled their booking for Sunday, I was relieved because it meant I didn’t have to spend a glorious day preparing the house for the new arrivals. I could have a day off!

Weirdly I slept through the night for the first time in days. It helped that it was Monday morning which seemed like a fresh start after a lost weekend spent drifting through stories of doom and gloom in a trance-like state. I felt positive and ready for action (paradoxically given our house-bound state).