This morning, I left the neighborhood to go to Spanish class. I had my letter of permission ready to go — but as it turned out, I didn’t need it. Either I’m extraordinarily good at missing checkpoints or they don’t exist.
I suspect the latter. Though Madrid’s health services has posted a template permission-to-leave-the-area letter on its website and various politicos are at this very moment discussing whether or not those of us in the confinement zones will be allowed to leave our zones to visit the cemeteries on All Soul’s Day (November 2), life in the street is the same as it ever was.
Given 2020’s general lack of predictability and follow through, I’d say this is pretty much par for the course.*
*Not that I’m complaining.