"Those air-conditioned bright canteens".
It's a bit like how you'd imagine entering the afterlife to be. You arrive to find yourself in a well spaced line made up of an assortment of silent figures, all staring ahead into the near distance. Some smart, some casual, some wrapped up in warm coats. Nobody is in any hurry as they enter the clinically neat building and are checked in, all in an orderly fashion. It's V-Day, and V only means vaccination these days. Clearly we're not dead yet.
An unused pavilion on the Royal Highland Showground site in Edinburgh is the location of our well mannered local Covid vaccination centre. There won't be a Highland Show with cattle and restless natives until the rules well and truly relax. The weeds and ongoing airport hire car disposals are the only things thriving. I was there about a month ago to successfully receive my first, easily absorbed dose, a big step on the road back to normality we're told. Except that's not quite how it's going to be. No.
I'll return perhaps in May for a booster with another slew of shuffling pensioners but I suspect that won't be the end of it. Mass vaccinations are here to stay for the foreseeable future, as the virus mutates and people misbehave and travel. We're all human now and needy, suddenly fragile and prone to a disease that has no respect for our virtual reality and finely imagined ways of being.
These are the new rules as to how life will be lived, with our vax record passports, more subtle mask designs and curious forms of safe distancing. We'll be visiting the revolving doors of this unloved Telly Tubby bunker to take our health preserving dose of soon to be obsolete science for some time to come. Buckle up.