Well. The other day we were reading the news and a writer said 'who would bother to make predictions for the rest of 2020 - it's not as though anyone could have come up with what's happened in the first half'. Never have truer words been spoken - not even in jest.

Speaking of words - our favourite word of the pandemic/slowest apocalypse ever would have to be 'covidiot' - to be enjoyed except when spell-idiots change it to covid-idiot - thereby defeating the purpose of an excellent newly coined word.

Least favourite word of the slowpocalypse? - Unprecedented. It never bodes well... for instance... Q: We want a refund for a service/product that you have cancelled/are unable to/refuse to supply (let's say a flight). A: "In these unprecedented times we are facing an inundation of requests and we will review your case in the order it was received". Code for "In these unprecedented times, we want to keep your money as an unsecured, interest free loan and in return, eventually, and in the fullness of time, we will possibly give you credit vouchers to be used within a very limited period of time and only during the waxing-gibbous phase of the moon".

On a positive note, it only took 9 weeks of pester-power to convince Aer Lingus to just give us the money. Who knows, maybe they would have paid up without said 9 weeks of assaults via phone/email and twitter... but then again, maybe they wouldn't have. We were lucky - it wasn't a huge amount of cash - but the European courts and the EU261 regulation were on our side - and, most importantly, it was our cash. We take the wins where we can.

We have been keeping ourselves busy here in Broadbeach with our two new hobbies, a) walking - at least 10,000 steps a day, preferably 12,000 and, albeit once, 20,000. We've walked our socks off for health reasons and for a change of scenery. We've walked all the way from Broadbeach to Marina Mirage and, on a separate occasion, all the way back. Our other new hobby is b) reading the goings on from around the world - AKA counting our lucky stars that we are in Queensland, Australia, with no community transmission of TDV. (Going forward, bored as we are with Covid-19, coronavirus etc, let's get real and call it what it is - That Damn Virus.)

It's been almost 4 months since we landed in the lucky country, girt by sea (a very large sea, a mega-moat in fact) and not surprisingly, the rest of the world is going to hell on a bullet train. We feel we are stuck in a gear, unable to go back to life as it was (we'd be housesitting in the centre of The Hague right now) and, even worse, unable to go forward as we're metaphorically 'chained to the bed' by Australia's travel ban. We're 99.9% sure we're the only nation on earth who has gone beyond Level 4 Restrictions - 'Do Not Travel' type advisories and actually banned citizens and permanent residents from leaving. Even dual-nationals. It's not like we want to go far... New Zealand seems safe. So our hearts are set on a Trans-Tasman travel bubble opening soon - though obviously with the Victorian outbreak sending the average Kiwi into conniptions, it would have to be 'sans-Victoria'. We're OK with that.

We must admit, having to spend the pandemic 'trapped' in Queensland, a block from the beach, with ocean views is not exactly roughing it (with all credit due to the slogan of luxury ski resort town of Beaver Creek, Colorado). We have our health and as more evidence is gathered, it is becoming apparent that the after effects of even a mild dose of TDV are worth avoiding at all costs and the worst side effect of the virus is, of course, death. We have a regular weekly outing, treasure hunting in the multitudes of thrift stores scattered up and down the Gold Coast. We have found some excellent bargains - a couple of Riedel champagne flutes for $1 each... vs. $50 each retail, a cashmere wrap/shawl from Switzerland for $25... which sounds expensive until you find they retail for $400... a Mongolian cashmere hoodie for $12... retails for over $500 and last but not least, a burnt orange mohair throw from a woollen mill in Tasmania - for the princely sum of $5 - would cost upwards of $400 in a regular store. We take the wins where we can.

After shopping we usually have lunch somewhere and found a great little Thai joint that did a $10 lunch special. That filled the freezer and was our 'go to' for lunch on Wednesday... right up until it closed due to a breakdown in rent negotiations with the landlord. But we did top up the freezer before their last day. We have investigated several fish and chipperies... and found a favourite for a treat every couple of weeks. We even cook on a regular basis (glorious Tefal non-stick pan in a thrift store for only $3 - huge improvement on the cooking pans in our apartment).

It's been a long while between entries and could be a while until the next one. Suffice it to say our lease runs out on 1 October and with the borders opening for domestic tourists, our very favourable rent won't last beyond that. In any event, by then it will be summer and too hot to be in Queensland, cheap rent or not. Meanwhile the beach walks, the bargain hunts and planning for the future/ish continue.

The future/ish? The Clayton's future? The future you plan when you can't leave the country and don't know when you will next be able to. The future of our 'global house sitters of mystery lifestyle' when our big, wide, glorious world has metamorphosed into 'it's a small world after all'. In a movie that appealed to both of us called 'The History Boys' - one of the characters exclaimed of 'History' as just one f*cking thing after another. The future is presenting itself as one day after another, as it always has of course - just now it seems like we're walking in a thick fog and unable to see our own hands in front of our faces. May the many scientists working on vaccines around the world succeed and soon - we've had enough of the new, new normal.