The first thing I think of when I wake up is my e-bike. Last night I was too tired to do anything but glug back a few glasses of wine, and rustle up a spaghetti with anchovies and chilli, before hitting the sack at around 1 am after having caught up on Emily’s quarantine. She has been remarkably content on her own, and the neighbours have been kind, bringing her vegetables from our allotment and helping her with provisions.

I scuttle down to the shed. The Amiti E+ is still there, chained to the floor, and surrounded by boxes of books and art materials, and the Fixie from Jorge. Phew! Before I left, I took off the bike seat and removed the battery, but even so I am relieved to see that the bike has not been stolen. My first urge is to get the bike out and go for a ride, especially after the beautiful rides by the river in France. But of course, this is not possible because of the quarantine.

I feel a sense of indignation as I drink my morning coffee. BoJo has been encouraging everyone to buy a bike and even offered handouts for people to do so, apparently because his obesity made him more vulnerable to the Covid virus. There are not many government policies that you can whole-heartedly support but this surely is one of them. But the absurd quarantine regulation is preventing me from the one form of exercise that I actually enjoy. As I pour my second cup of coffee, my sense of indignation is giving way to rage.

What right has a government to take away the freedom of an individual?