by I’ve been following the UK Covid inquiry, and all I can say is lock the bastards up. The mishandling of the early stages of the pandemic went well beyond incompetence; these people were actively toxic. They were egomaniacs who behaved like playground bullies and were only in their positions because they supported Brexit. (The pandemic coming right after the brain drain of the December 2019 election was such unfortunate timing.) As senior civil servant Helen MacNamara (who wasn’t blameless herself) said in her hearing yesterday, there was an absence of humanity among the people in charge. For Boris Johnson and Matt Hancock, old people, poor people, and frankly all people who lacked their privileges, were expendable. Dominic Cummings, who gave his evidence on Tuesday, was just as bad. The insults that came from this special – unelected – advisor, mostly in WhatsApp messages, were shocking in their language. Making the right decisions didn’t matter to these c***s (as Mr Cummings would say); they only cared about whether the decisions made them look good. And what were they doing governing by WhatsApp anyway? They cost tens of thousands of lives. They should all go to prison for several years, and be banned from public office or indeed earning more than the national average income when they come out.
On Sunday I met Mark in town. We had lunch at Berăria 700, both opting for bulz – a bowl of cheese, bacon and mămăligă with an egg on top. Not the healthiest meal, but delicious. The funny bit was ordering the beer. Large or small? “Large, I suppose.” We thought that “large” meant a halbă which is just under a pint, but no, we got these great big steins that must have been a litre each. With the food and the sunny weather, getting through them wasn’t a problem. I showed him around the nearby market which for some reason he’d never been to before. He was amazed by the flowers, which are the most sense-engaging part of the whole thing. Just before we parted company, we discussed our good fortune at living in Timișoara – beautiful, lively, genuine, and (touch wood) safe. I played just one hour of tennis after that. Since then, the week has been a bit of a disappointment with so many cancellations caused by the Romanian equivalent of half-term, which only started to be a thing last year. All in all I can’t complain – I’m feeling much more relaxed than a couple of weeks ago. Last night I had a long chat with my friend in Birmingham, which was nice. Like Mum in Geraldine, he’s busy painting walls. I also spoke to Dad yesterday. Seeing his sister every day is leaving him exhausted. Britain is now being gripped by a storm. He’ll be flying back home in eleven days; he wishes it were sooner.
