Staycations, face masks and government briefings: The 11 things we never want to see again after lockdown

After a year living under coronavirus restrictions, Natasha Preskey asks The Independent’s team which parts of lockdown life they want to leave in the past

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This is it. We’ve been here more than an entire calendar year. Groundhog Day has officially become Groundhog Year.

Thankfully, though, there is (hopefully) a light at the end of the socially-distanced tunnel, with 21 June heralding a return to normal(ish) life. That is, so long as the government’s four conditions are met (the vaccine programme continuing successfully and reducing hospitalisations, infection rates remaining at a manageable level and new variants not altering risk levels).

With lockdown has come a set of norms that would sound like an alien language to the people we were two years ago. Now, we catch ourselves using the word pandemic with the same casual tone we’d use to talk about the electricity bill. Social distancing, virtual meetings and lateral flow tests are all second nature to us.

But which aspects of the ‘new normal’ are we most keen to leave behind us? Here, members of The Independent’s team share the things they can’t wait to see the back of. 

The rule of six

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The rule of six has been a welcome tipping point throughout these lockdowns – the moment when meeting one person outside for exercise opens up into the prospect of picnics, garden gatherings and possibly even a drink at the pub with your favourite people. However, despite coming from a relatively small immediate family, and having several pared back friendship groups rather than one big gang, I’ve found myself having to do increasingly complicated calculations to make sure we’re sticking to the rules, without leaving anyone out.

The debate over how to approach this has escalated more than once into me wondering how rude it would be to kick a husband out of his own house so I can hang out with his wife and our friends – and the sting is even worse when you realise you’re the one that’s been bumped from the list so six others can attend. Honestly, lord knows what it’s like for people who would actually class themselves as "popular". As someone who came of age in the early noughties, it feels like MySpace top friends all over again.

Eleanor Jones, Executive Editor, IndyBest

Zoom

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I can’t get excited about virtual gigs, birthday parties or quizzes, anymore - I long to be in a room full of people. I want to hear whispers and giggles and the sound of glasses clinking. I want to smile at strangers and make chit-chat in toilet queues - away from my laptop.

There’s a distinct difference between watching people on a screen, and sensing the gritty, noisy, scented, glorious disarray of humanity when it’s crammed into one small gig venue, spilling drinks and sweating all over each other. I miss being bathed in other people’s sweat.

Victoria Richards, Senior Commissioning Editor, Voices

Endless dish washing

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I come from Malaysia, where dishwashers are basically non-existent. They have only appeared in households of the very rich and even then, they mostly go unused except perhaps as an extra cabinet. You are the dishwasher. I’ve never had a problem with this - until this year.

Now, if I never had to wash another dirty dish again, I’d be ecstatic. I’d be incandescent with joy. I’d run through a field singing “hallelujah”. My life throughout this pandemic has been a constant stream of dirty dishes, used cooking pans, smeared water glasses, and yucky food bits in the sink trap - and I’m sick of it. My hands, they cry for relief between the constant hand washing, hand sanitising, and dish washing.

The return of eating out cannot come soon enough because not only will someone else be cooking my food (glorious!), but someone else will be washing the dishes, pots and pans afterwards.

Kate Ng, News Reporter

Social distancing

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I’d never realised just how tactile of a person I was before the pandemic. In early March last year, I was interviewing candidates for jobs and kept having to hold back offering a hand up to shake. One year on, I still struggle to understand not hugging / kissing or shaking the hand of someone when you greet them. I still want to launch into a hug any time I meet someone for a lockdown walk - so much so, that I now enact absurd-looking air hugs, mimicking putting my arms around people I meet.

On more than one occasion, I have gone to squeeze the hand of a walking companion to illustrate empathy for their story, or reached out to place a hand on their arm when they say something particularly interesting or share personal news, only to pull back last minute.

In the past year, I’ve attended funerals, baby showers, birthdays and my own wedding and been unable to touch most people, which has made me realise just how important physical contact is to building those bonds with the people you love. I am so ready for the end of social distancing I will happily stand on a crowded Tube platform and have an aggressive commuter push me out of the way just to feel the electricity of it all.

Harriet Hall, lifestyle editor

Face masks

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I know they are important and I know they will probably be around for a while yet but, for me, they are the ultimate symbol of the pandemic, so they really need to go for me to mentally feel that These Times are finished.

Also, no matter how long they’ve been around, I still always forget to put one in my pocket when heading out and then have to awkwardly turn around at the shop and come home again. I still haven’t cracked the glasses/headphone/face mask tangle around my ears either and they are another thing to remember to wash when there are enough chores that already need doing. Be gone already face masks.

Sophie Gallagher, Deputy Lifestyle Editor

Staycations

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There’s no denying our little island has some very green and very pleasant lands, and I’ve zipped around much of the UK and always had a jolly time. But - whisper it - I miss going abroad. I miss stepping off the plane and being hit in the face with that warm, soupy air; I miss walking barefoot on the sand; I miss dressing up for dinner and wandering through some insanely poetic European square. I miss all of it, desperately, and a week in the Cotswolds - as lovely as that is - is a poor replacement.

I did squeeze a handful of trips in 2020 - to Greece, Dubai and also the Kent Coast over August bank holiday weekend. The sky and sea were gunmetal, my hair never recovered from the wind and it was cold. And expensive. There is a reason us Brits love Spain so much...(Separately, I also won’t miss the argument over whether “staycation” means “staying at home” or “taking a domestic holiday”.)

Cathy Adams, Head of Travel

PPE litter

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Every time I leave the house for my government-mandated daily exercise, I’m confronted by a growing collection of PPE litter. While the wearing of face masks is largely A Good and Considerate Thing, the number of people who have not got the memo that reusable masks are more environmentally friendly is evident in cities and towns around the world. While certain professions, such as healthcare workers, demand single-use masks, the average Joe does not and it’s frustrating when the impact of this is having such a profound impact on the environment.

Earlier this month, researchers warned that 2.8 million plastic face masks are used every single minute around the world, with scientists warning that we’re at risk of having more plastic face masks in the sea than jellyfish. With single-use face masks taking up to 450 years to decompose, it’s no wonder scientists are concerned. I look forward to a day when government officials do more to advocate for the use of reusable masks, more creative approaches to their disposal, and an end to plastic litter.

Joanna Whitehead, Freelance Lifestyle Reporter

Posting sunsets on Instagram

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It’s a cruel irony that, as soon as we had nothing to do except stare at screens, no one had anything interesting to post on social media. As much as, at first, I enjoyed an injection of nature into my timeline as my friends and I swapped bars and birthday parties for blossom and sunsets, I’d now give my right arm to see even the most basic cheers-ing Instagram story from the pub.

Bring me soon-to-be-deleted thirst traps and poorly-coordinated group photos. Out with the “saw this on my government sanctioned” posts and in with the sweaty club toilet selfies.

Natasha Preskey, Senior Lifestyle Reporter

Panic buying

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Even before the first lockdown was announced, this new and frightening virus switched on many people’s fight or flight response, driving many to buy giant multi-packs of toilet roll and hefty bags of flour that probably haven’t been touched since.

I still remember my last shop before lockdown. The tea aisle in my local Sainsbury’s was barren. Families looked like they were preparing for the apocalypse with salty and sugary snacks piled high atop boxes on Heinz anything. Others meticulously packed their trollies like Tetris to fit what they thought they needed.

The coronavirus has shown us the very best of humanity, but panic-buying has also shown us just how selfish we can be in times of stress. It a hard-wired trait from our evolution to look out for number one. But in modern times such as these, it’s mind-boggling to think that, if there were two items left on the shelf, many would choose to take both even if they only needed one.

Ellie Abraham, Freelance Lifestyle Reporter

Treading the same routes

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I’d like to see the back of those four streets around my house that I have to walk down to get to anywhere else on foot in any direction. There’s nothing I’ve wanted to do more over the last year than get out of the house, but the process of getting out of it has never been so boring. The more I’ve gotten to know the perfectly nice streets that run directly to my door, the more fed up of them I’ve become. Which way shall we go after work today, I ask myself? Not that way, I say - not again. But there’s no choice.

The boundaries of boredom and the feeling of confinement have spread ever outward, to the point where I’d now have to walk about 40 minutes in any given direction to find somewhere I haven’t ended up time and time again, all with nowhere to hide if it rains and no-one to see for more than a stroll in the freezing cold. I suppose a bike, or roller-skates, or an obliging quadruped could help speed up my daily attempt at a temporary escape, mental and physical, but even then, more and more of the empty city has just lost its novelty. Get me out of here!

Andrew Naughtie, US Politics Reporter

The No10 daily briefing

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The scientists, the ‘next slide please’, the ever more begrudging roster of minor ministers rolling up to tell us numbers of infections and deaths. Has there ever been a more miserable TV broadcast?

Ben Kelly, Deputy Head of Audience