During one of yesterday’s meetings, I made the rash offer of a Drama workshop for the other volunteers on the team, an idea leapt upon with enthusiasm, and a venue was proposed: a small open-air amphitheatre down by the lake. That, however, was yesterday, and in these desperately uncertain times, a day is enough to allow all sorts of things to happen.
With news of ever more draconian lockdowns, and growing advice/instruction/compulsion to stay indoors, something as essentially trivial as a drama workshop did not seem so sensible; it would not be a good example, it would not send the right message. (So far as the actual risk was concerned, after spending so much time in close proximity, none of us thought that further exposure was any more dangerous, but that is not the point.)
So my stay in Ioannina ends with a whimper not a bang, a comparison first used when describing the end of the world. Hmm…
My intention tomorrow, courtesy of some sterling arrangements by Val, is to fly from Ioannina to Athens, and then on to Heathrow, always assuming this does not fall foul of “events” – a pretty big assumption. I am not sorry to be avoiding the route by bus to Thessaloniki and then on, so just have to hope I get home before the whole world shuts down. Still, you know what they say about making God laugh? Tell him your plans.
If all goes well, and I make it back to Little Ickford tomorrow, I’ll post a final blog entry to let you know. Keep reading, and keep your fingers crossed for the bonnest of bon voyages.