2022 saw the removal of nearly all covid restrictions and the reopening of international borders. The global economy however was still in tatters, with massive inflation and supply chain issues rife. Thanks to the vaccines, as well as the less deadly Omicron variant, 2022 was the year that Covid gradually went from terrifying to tedious. Still potentially deadly, but generally more just inconvenient.
All of which meant that life could slowly begin returning to normal. And so it was a year of much travel for us as plans scuppered by covid could finally take place.
In February, the parents and I took a trip to the UK to spend a few days with Dave & Amy and to meet Charlie for the first time. We drove and took the ferry, with all the covid-related faffing this entailed. We had a very enjoyable few days in Market Harborough. We also spent a couple nights visiting my aunt Tracey’s family where I got to meet Henri le Bourgeois. By this point, Jo was already pregnant again. Their second child Lando was born in May. We don’t know if he takes his name from the Star Wars character but we like to think so.
It was also the month of the queen’s Platinum Jubilee (or Platy Joobs as it was nicknamed). She was conspicuous by her absence from most of the events, but that didn’t stop the country becoming a fawning embarrassment for a few weeks. Another occasion that made me appreciate how nice it is nice being this side of the Channel.
February was also the month that a good London friend of mine, David Amstel, died suddenly of a heart attack. He was only 50 and was in excellent health so it was quite the gut punch.
And still February wasn’t done with us yet. By this point, the world had experienced two years of being terrorised by Pestilence, but he was losing his grip and not even the bizarre global outbreak of Monkey Pox turned things around for him. And so another Horseman took over. On the 26th of February Russia invaded Ukraine beginning the largest armed conflict in Europe since World War II. The conflict is still ongoing nearly two years later and there is no end in sight.
Presidential elections were held in France on 10 and 24 April 2022. Despite our fears, Macron managed to defeat Le Pen a second time, although with a far more slender majority this time. Unfortunately for him, June’s legislative elections went less well. He lost his majority and the far right made incredible gains, increasing its number of MPs tenfold and becoming the largest opposition party in Parliament.
In April our friend Gerald came over to see us – a trip that had been planned for the previous year but got cancelled by covid. He was supposed to be joined by a friend of his named Jess from the States, but unfortunately, she realised too late her passport had expired so she couldn’t make it. In the end we had a good time just the three of us and ate and drank well. Too well as it turned out as Gerald spent a few days feeling a bit under the weather from the overindulgence.
In mid-May we finally caught covid. It had been going round Matt’s choir and sure enough, both he and Paul came down with it. A week later, I caught it too, as did Nat. We ended up losing two weekends, including that of Mum & Dad’s anniversary so we postponed our restaurant plans for the weekend after. Our restaurant of choice, the Hotel de France, never reopened after covid and so we ended up at le Pas de Chat in Villars where we had a disappointing meal.
Matt had wanted to stop smoking for some time and getting over covid made him decide the time was now. He has kept off the cigarettes since but I only managed two months. I did however stop smoking weed.
On the 4th of June we had our first gig of the year. This was at Parenthèses Imaginaires and was organised to celebrate life returning to normal. It was mainly a family affair with lots of Stephan & Françoise’s young relatives present. This meant that our setlist was a bit misjudged and not sufficiently dancy. But we did perform, at their request, Rod Stewart’s Dya Think I’m Sexy, with Matt channelling Barry White on the vocals. Françoise doesn’t approve of outdoor lighting due to concerns about light pollution, so it was pitch black outside the venue and Mum unfortunately fell over as they left, managing to quite badly hurt her wrist.
In mid June we left a scorching hot Mazeroux for a family reunion in Minnesota. The event was also to mark Jan’s recent big birthday. They had rented a large house situated on lake Prior, a short drive from Minneapolis and the family all gathered there for a very hot and sunny week of boating on the lake, barbecuing and games.
Just a few days later the US Supreme Court, with its three Trump-appointed wingnut judges, voted to overturn Roe v Wade, denying abortion rights to millions. A grim moment.
The summer of 2022 was the hottest ever recorded in Europe, marked by intense heatwaves, droughts, forest fires and 60 thousand deaths across the continent. It was good to actually get some sun again after the previous year, but it was so intense that it was rarely possible to actually go out and enjoy it.
Our second gig of the year was on 2nd of July for the annual Fête des Voisins. This was gatecrashed by some Belgians who stopped their car as they passed to see what was happening. We encouraged them to stay and this they did, making for a livelier and more attentive crowd than usual.
A few days later, we set off on our second holiday of the year. We spent 10 days visiting Switzerland and Italy with Suzy and Steve and the girls. Rescheduled from 2020, their European trip was to meet up with their eldest Maddie who was studying in Vienna.
We drove due east to Besançon where we stayed the night. The next day went on to Lucerne in Switzerland. There we met up with the Swensons, ate lunch and strolled around. From there we drove on to our rented Villa in the incredibly pretty town of Engelberg in the Swiss Alps. We had several days of taking alpine hikes, and also rode a cable car up Titlis mountain where we walked through a glacier.
A few days later we drove on to Italy where we stayed near lake Maggiore on the southern side of the Alps. We rented a large house but it was swelteringly hot and opening windows only led to an invasion of mosquitoes. There we enjoyed the excellent food, and took a boat out to see some of the islands. We left them to continue their European adventure and returned home.
At the end of July, we played a gig at La Grelière that was mostly successful. We returned the next day en masse for a meal of leftovers out in the garden.
July was also notable for being the week that Boris Johnson resigned as Prime Minister. The UK government was engulfed in yet another scandal – this one involving a sleazy, bum-pinching member of staff named, of course, Chris Pincher – that led to a slew of cabinet members resigning and ultimately forcing Boris to follow suit.
At the end of August, we headed off on our third holiday of the year, to the great disgust of the cats. This was for a week in Kefalonia along with the folks and Jan. Jan met up with us in London and the five of us flew on to Argostoli from there. We hadn’t told our friends Jerry & Maaike in advance that we were coming so it made for a nice surprise showing up at their restaurant that evening. We had a typically lovely and relaxing time there, alternating between poolside and beach. On one of our beach days, Matt lost his wedding ring while swimming. The water is that clear and shallow that trying to find it became a daily activity, but sadly not a successful one. We decided we’d treat ourselves to new ones seeing as it was nearly our 5th anniversary.
On our last day there, queen Elizabeth’s health took a turn for the worse. By the time we landed in London it was announced she had died, aged 96. Luckily for us, we were out of London the following day so escaped all the drama and returned to the calm of Mazeroux.
Jan stayed with us for another week or so after Greece, meaning she was around for our final gig of the year here at Port 80. It also coincided with Tracey and Frank’s trip to see Mum & Dad so they had the dubious pleasure of seeing it too. I say dubious as it was mostly a trainwreck. It had been cool and breezy all day and by evening was positively chilly. It’s much harder to play with cold hands, but this doesn’t excuse all the silly mistakes that we were making.
By this point the Tory party had finished its latest leadership contest and had decided to make Liz Truss PM. After 45 days in office – during which time she managed to utterly tank the UK economy and sink her party still further in the polls – she resigned. In the ensuing crisis, Rishi Sunak emerged as PM#3 of the year. Better news came from Brazil that October when the left-leaning Lula defeated Bolsonaro. Lula’s a far from ideal leader, but at least he has committed to halting the devastating destruction of the Rainforest.
We hosted Christmas this year, with Mum & Dad for our usual leisurely day of over-eating and drinking.
Gerald returned for New Year’s Eve and this time, Jess made it too – although she had managed to get a touch of food poisoning in Paris so wasn’t in top form for the first day or so. We’d not met her before but took an instant liking to her. They had both arrived with bottles of vodka and tequila, so the cocktails flowed during their stay. I’m a little hazy on the details for some reason, but I do recall a form of margarita made with pear juice that was quite special.
We spent NYE at the Lorenzos as usual, where we numbered 20 or so. We partied until around 3 am and came home with an unreasonable head of steam that led us to keep going with the cocktails for a few more hours. Great pain ensued the following morning. We had a meal at Mum & Dad’s a couple days later to cap off their trip and then they left us. And that is more or less the end of that.
Despite the fact that the year had been sun-filled and that we got in lots of travel, 2022 was a far from enjoyable year for me personally. This was partly because by this point it had become clear that my job as Port 80’s web designer could be counted among covid’s many victims. I hadn’t had a decent year of work since 2019 and things had only worsened over time. Not having a way to keep busy during the week – and feeling very conscious that I had become a net drain on Port 80’s income – had a bit of a detrimental effect.
What with that, and the state of the world in general, I spent a lot of the year feeling quite low. I am developing a theory that shit years – I mean real proper stinkers – now come every three years. This cycle began with the Cursed year of 2016. Three years later, 2019 did its best to be even more miserable. And then there was 2022. In many obvious ways, the previous two years of the pandemic were worse on a macro level. But for me 2022 was not a happy time. A new nadir in a century that seems to be made of them. The good news is that at the time of writing, assuming my theory is correct, we have two full years to go until the next shitshow. And I am pleased to say that 2023 was a significant improvement. Which brings me to the next round up.
2022 summed up in one David Bowie song: “I’d Rather Be High”
A song about a terrifed young soldier sent to war and wishing he was anywhere else. Not in any way relevant to this year: I chose it because, as I question the sagacity of giving up weed during a pandemic, the title was calling out to me.