Savouring the little moments... how to enjoy and manage a staycation in this "new normal".

As we travelled west along the hectic M4, we reached a point where lush rolling hills emerged and I felt a sense of relief.  The traffic became less frenetic, the cows in the adjacent fields appeared relaxed and the horizon expanded.  The moment was more incredible because it was the first time we had left home since February to stay elsewhere.  Escaping from our little seaside town and the same four walls felt like breathing new air and coming alive just a little more.  I was filled with both excitement and slight trepidation.  This was a big step to venture out into the world and take a break from our daily routine and the safe sanctuary that our home has provided in these challenging months.

Driving further west, the land seemed brighter and greener, as if I was seeing it for the first time.  Endless gentle hills and glorious trees became the background for our week staycation.  I was excited seeing intricate dry stone walls bordering fields of corn ready for harvesting.  I couldn't get enough of looking at this scenery that is so beautiful and different to the more linear and flat landscape of the coast.  I felt something possibly akin to leaving rehab for the first time and seeing the world with new eyes and a deep appreciation. 

We were staying in a cosy converted stables tucked at the end of an enormous garden, nestled in the countryside outside Bath.  It's a place we have stayed at before and a perfect destination while keeping social distance.  It met my criteria for these times: isolated location, outside space, quiet, view of trees and spotlessly clean.  The only sign that things were different to normal was a box that I packed specifically with alcohol gel, wipes, extra face masks, mugs, tea towels and cleaning products.  If I managed to reduce the impact of coronavirus down to one box, this was progress!  And once we settled in, I started to feel more like myself and able to switch my brain mostly onto "relaxing" mode.

Fortunately, my happiest ways of relaxing include long walks, reading outside, yoga, cooking and sitting observing nature around me.  Maybe in some ways, keeping away from crowded places suits the quiet, empathic side of me.  We discovered winding footpaths through attractive villages and never tired of the open views.  The endless months of pandemic life have helped to foster awe and wonder at the smallest of things.  Every now and then, something would catch my attention and we stopped to just absorb the moment.  Arriving at one stunning village, built with typical honey coloured Bath Stone and decorated with pots of flowers galore, we paused to look at this row of cheerful scarecrows!  Each time we were out exploring and walking, life just felt normal again which was very good for my soul. 

I was also forced to actually stop and rest which I can struggle to do on this type of staycation with friends to visit, many walks and further exploration.  I remembered the advice I wrote on a previous post about lowering expectations to cope in this new normal.  Just being in the glorious countryside with one walk or trip each day was plenty.  The scorching heat wave with Spanish temperatures meant taking a siesta in the afternoon to avoid heat stroke.  I sat in the shade and read slowly, watching the insects enjoy the sticky leaves of the ornate shrubs on the patio.  Even when the temperatures dropped dramatically, two days of continual rain meant more time to sit and just watch the clouds change while listening to the sound of gentle rain.  So relaxing. 

Of course, it was impossible to forget totally that we are living in a "new normal" when we ventured further into the city of Bath.  During the long weeks of lockdown, I imagined the days when we would be able to travel again and I longed to reach the familiar haven of Bath.  So months later, I was now in a position to venture into this beautiful city.  And there, I ticked off a whole array of "firsts" since the start of the pandemic: first time on a bus, first time in a public toilet, first time in a city and first time eating outside a vegan cafe.  I stood in front of the Royal Crescent and marvelled at its architecture that has weathered centuries and will survive the pandemic with us.  The solidity of the enormous tree in the middle of the Circus reminded me that nature continues to flourish around us.  The food outside the vegan cafe was delicious and served in such a respectful and caring manner that brought tears to my eyes.  I had made it all this way, even in the strangest of times.

All these "firsts" took a certain amount of energy, hand gel, face mask and a nagging feeling of uncertainty as I stepped cautiously out of my comfort zone.  Each action was risk assessed and weighed up.  I skirted the edges of the city, exploring the wide paths through parks and along the canal path.  Bath was relatively quiet compared to a normal August and the council has sensibly widened the pavements in sections by reducing the width of some roads, giving people plenty of space to walk.  It actually felt okay most of the time to be tentatively exploring the city again in these times.  But in pushing my limits of what I've been doing since lockdown, I also kept wondering if this is actually okay or not?

How do I know if I'm being over-cautious, sensible or taking too many risks at this stage in the pandemic?  While we are slowly opening up our society again, I am also aware that our case numbers are slowly creeping up.  Maybe this is something we are supposed to get used to, however, I still find it unsettling.  And it came to me, that unlike most things we do in life, there is no immediate feedback to tell me if I have stepped too far from my own comfort zone.  For example, if I eat too much dark chocolate I will get a headache or if I over-stretch in yoga, my back will hurt the following day.  Similarly, if I spend too much time on the internet my brain feels wired and my stress levels rise.  But here, in the pandemic, there is no obvious feedback except for niggling worries and hope that no symptoms appear.  No wonder we are all finding it hard to navigate?

I have certainly taken small coronavirus "risks" that I have avoided until this point and won't be repeating for a while (such as public toilets).  And to offset the week of stretching my limits, I will now have a quieter few weeks back at home.  It reminds me of a healthy eating plan, where if I've eaten too many unhealthy options in a week, I would then become super strict for the following few weeks to compensate.  Continuing the diet plan metaphor further, I decided to try a Weight Watchers Smartpoints style approach.  Rather than edible Smartpoints, I could award myself 20 "risk points" for a month. During my staycation I visited five public toilets (5 risk points), two outdoor cafes (2 points), two buses (two points) and one tiny and crowded Co-op (1 point) making a total of 10 risk points for the week.  This leaves me ten risk points to stretch out for the following three weeks, giving a kind of structure in the maze of uncertainties. 

By the end of this fairly chilled, restorative week I feel more optimistic that I can explore the world beyond my own home just a little more perhaps?  Whenever I go away, it always reminds me of the priorities in life and the things that bring a sense of calm, even when navigating through this pandemic.   Away from the routines of daily life and the computer, I slow down enough to appreciate these small moments, often in nature or pausing to appreciate the present moment.  And fortunately connecting to the natural world is always accessible, even outside my front door at home, as we face whatever ups and downs that may lie ahead.  

Hidden away at our converted stables near Bath

Our glamping wooden pod for the last two nights