Fuck This Virus

Coping with Covid through music

My closest memory to the cusp of Covid is a long night at The Sun Tavern. One of my favourite bars on Earth, my beloved “local” for the last four years I lived in Whitechapel. The site of late-night laughs, hazy heart-to-hearts, sweaty dancing in crowded corners.

My beloved: The Sun Tavern, Bethnal Green, London

My Google Calendar tells me the date was 20 March 2020. There was an odd desperation in the air at The Sun that night, like everyone felt that this could be the last normal Saturday night for a bit. The UK government had warned us that some sort of virus was making its way. Chris and I marvelled at the novelty of working from home for a week or two. Heck, I had left food in the fridge and my desk at the office. Obviously, events unfolded in a much more serious way, but I don’t need to go over that here.