A COUPLE of Sundays ago I had a very pleasant day watching cricket, and then spent the evening socialising in the club bar — it really did feel as though normality had returned after 18 months of us being told where we can and can’t go and what we can and can’t do.

The following day I went to visit my elderly mother and we decided to go out for a drive.

Despite the ridiculous volume of traffic; which this year is worse than ever thanks to the world and its wife flocking to the Isle of Wight as an alternative to their usual holiday on some semi-exotic Mediterranean island, mother and I enjoyed both our drive and the ice-creams from the van in the Culver view car park.

Having finished my cone, I decided to check the messages on my phone, and the first was from one of the guys I had spent the previous day with at the cricket, it read, “Hi all, I’m sorry to inform you that I have just tested positive for Covid. You might want to get tested.”

I didn’t mention the text to my mother, as I didn’t want her to worry, but decided it was probably time to get her home.

I had already taken a Covid test before going to see mother, so didn’t bother taking another one when I got home, but I did take a test the following morning and then again on Wednesday morning, with both coming back negative.

By now I was feeling pretty confident that I, and more importantly my mother, were ok, but when another of our Saturday cricket group texted on Wednesday afternoon to state that he too had tested positive, I realised that we may not be out of the woods just yet.

A few more days of testing passed and it soon became apparent that I didn’t have Covid. The funny thing is, despite this potential near miss, I didn’t feel in the slightest bit worried, and am sat here now thinking this is the new norm.

People are going to get Covid forever, just as they get colds and flu, but we have to believe that the Covid vaccinations will do their job, which I am sure is the case for me.

Even if I had tested positive I am confident that I wouldn’t have gotten seriously ill. I’ve never believed in masks; after all, wearing knickers or pants doesn’t reduce the effects of a fart, but Covid vaccines really are a lifesaver for those of us over a certain age, and now that we have them, we should be getting on with life and not living in fear, although I would add a foot-note that I personally don’t believe that anyone should be forced to have a vaccine, and neither do I believe in vaccine passports for entrance into domestic events — there should always be freedom of choice, especially now that we have reached what the government planned from Day 1, herd immunity.

Floating Bridge Update: In my previous article I dissected the manifesto of the new independent council and reported that the only promise they have actually made for their four-year term is to sort out the floating bridge, so I will be giving regular updates on the progress.

The council announced a couple of weeks ago that an outside contractor has been employed to supply ‘engineering support’ to work on the ever failing hydraulics of Floating Bridge 6, and it has so far cost us, the tax-payer, £38,000 — yet more good money being thrown after bad.

My suggestion to get rid of Floating Bridge 6 and replace it with a launch purely for foot passengers has so far been ignored by the new administration, but surely they have to come around eventually?

In this day and age there really is no need for a vehicular crossing — I live five minutes away from the floating bridge but whenever I need to travel to the other side of the River Medina, I drive around as it really doesn’t take very long (apart from this past month), especially now that St Mary’s roundabout has been replaced with a faster-flowing traffic light system.

The time has come to #ScrapTheFloatingBridge.