In Spain, coastal areas are the most densely populated; they are where many people dream of settling when they finally retire. The coast is also the ideal place for a summer vacation. The typical seaside vacation involves renting an apartment, getting the family settled there, and then taking one’s travelling circus to the beach each day to enjoy the waves, gather seashells, and survive the dense crowds of people.
This daily beach experience must be planned with all the precision of a battle campaign. Initially, it involves strategically staking out one’s claim by planting a large umbrella at a suitable distance from the shoreline and then slathering suntan lotion on all family members. The ultimate goal is to prevent your children from suffering sunstroke, becoming lost in the crowd, or getting swept out to sea on an inflatable raft. This is an even greater challenge since small children covered in suntan lotion are about as easy to catch as greased piglets.
Though hardly my idea of the perfect vacation, I have endured the beach experience several times during my life in the company of varying numbers of children. It is not something that I would recommend unless one has practiced Zen meditation and is able to mentally isolate oneself from a high level of surrounding chaos. It is also helpful to recite the serenity prayer various times during the day.
In Times of Coronavirus, the coastline is still a center of attention. Oddly enough, the siren song of the beach initially played a significant role in spreading contagion. The irresistible desire of the population to travel to the coast was one of the reasons for the exponential spread of the virus throughout Spain.
Many residents of inland cities, such as Madrid, have a vacation home on the coast of Valencia, Alicante, or Castellón. They go there to spend the summer or even the occasional weekend to get away from it all. When the coronavirus outbreak began, the government went into shock, and no one knew exactly what type of affirmative action to take.
It did not dawn on authorities that they should ban all vehicle travel, and make people stay where they were. When the government finally realized that this was the only way to attenuate the soaring rate of infection, it was too late. The barn door finally closed but the horses had already escaped.
Before travel restrictions were imposed, many residents of Madrid had already fled to their vacation homes to get away from the infected city. Unknowingly, they also took Covid-19 along with them as a travel companion.
This is exactly what happened in previous centuries during epidemics of the Black Death. People escaped from plague-ridden cities, but when they left, they carried the disease with them. They eventually infected others and contagion spread like wildfire throughout the country and beyond. Authorities in Spain now acknowledge that at least part of the disaster could have been prevented or at least significantly attenuated. Hindsight is always 20-20.
Now that we are finally in de-escalation, the beach continues to be a powerful magnet that attracts people in the same way as a lightbulb attracts moths. Before de-escalation, strict confinement meant that the beach was closed to everyone except the seagulls, who were suddenly bereft of stray potato chips and were forced to find an alternate food source.
Suntan addicts had to go cold turkey, but the beach breathed a sigh of relief. Without anyone trampling its sands, dunes were recovered, vegetation returned, and fish began to swim closer to the shoreline. Wildlife was able return to its natural habitat.
In those days, policemen had it easier because everyone was obliged to stay at home. So those who were sufficiently ignorant as to be on the beach received a fine. It was that simple.
Now in Phase 1, the situation is not so black and white. Although the beaches are open for exercise and watersports, they are closed for getting a suntan or for splashing around in the waves. As a result, everyone that has flocked to the shoreline must at least maintain the pretense of exercising even though some of the efforts appear rather lame. The important thing is not to sit down and to keep moving.
In the city of Barcelona, where the beach is located downtown, the concentration of would-be athletes is extremely high. Crowds of people have invaded the beach without any perceptible social distance. They seem to be taunting Covid-19. They seem to be daring the virus to return. Even though they are pressing their luck, maybe all will be okay. Everyone is tired of death.
Unlike Barcelona, Granada is also an inland city in Andalusia (southern Spain). The beaches in the towns of Motril and Almuñecar are a 40-minute drive from Granada. Various friends of mine have vacation homes on the coast, but were not able to travel there until five days ago when Granada was promoted to Phase 1. Now that there is greater mobility, the warm weather means that these small coastal towns may have the same problem as Barcelona.
Quite understandably, everyone wishes to congregate on the beach, bask in the sun, and shed their confinement-bleached skin. However, measures must be taken to discourage multitudes from hanging out on the sands. It is too idealistic to expect people to have a sense of social responsibility.
Everyone seems to be basking in the questionable belief that the virus has finally been vanquished, thanks to the hours spent playing video games or bingeing on television series. In Barcelona, for example, nothing has worked to convince people of the contrary, not even the 600-euro fines.
This is even stranger because people in Cataluña are known for their seriousness, work ethic, and sense of economy, which borders on parsimony. Compared to light-hearted Andalusians in the south, who are always ready to party, Catalans are the ultimate wet blankets.
On the other hand, Andalusians are known for their sociability and unlimited capacity to enjoy life. They make jokes about everything (even the coronavirus). Unfortunately, they also possess a deep-rooted sense of individualism that includes the conviction that rules were made to be obeyed by others.
So, in Phase 1, people who live in the province of Granada must now be gently dissuaded from crowding onto the beaches and perhaps triggering another coronavirus wave. The authorities of Motril and Almuñecar are aware that this is not going to be easy. They know that they have their work cut out for them. This weekend will be the litmus test.
After considering various measures, they have finally come up with an imaginative way to keep people out of the water. Until now, this secret weapon has been kept under wraps, but very little can be hidden from social networks, and this ingenious method is a secret no longer.
For the last week or so, passers-by in Motril have witnessed a large shark about four meters (13 feet) long, patrolling the shallow water near the shore. This extremely large fish is not a hallucination because the shark has been filmed. In fact, videos of the shark have been posted on Internet:
Since the Mediterranean Sea, unlike the Pacific Ocean, is not exactly shark-infested, one can only wonder how this monster managed to end up off the coast of Granada, so far away from its natural habitat. Rumor has it that this first cousin to Jaws was recruited by the Andalusian Regional Government and lured here as the only deterrent capable of keeping the population out of water.
The regional government is to be congratulated for coming up with a solution that is both effective and affordable. This tireless guardian of the coastline is willing to work with no vacation or time off. In these difficult times, an added bonus is that the shark’s salary only comes to roughly 1.3 kilos (3 pounds) of fish per day, perhaps with an occasional arm or leg for dessert if someone is so foolhardy as to venture into the water.
Evidently, this is the only way to finally persuade people in Spain that if they wish to go for a swim, they must wait until Phase 2.
