Inn Out

There’s an old joke about the inventor of The Hokey Cokey dying and it taking them ages to get him in the coffin (you put yer left leg in, yer left leg out…)
This seems to be the soundtrack to which many in the hospitality industry are being forced to dance to at the moment:

IN.
Lockdown 1: We close our doors willingly, respectfully and sadly as the death toll from Covid 19 spirals. Our numb disbelief is tempered by a stoic sense of solidarity as everyone else grinds to a halt and hunkers down at the behest of our government.

OUT.
After a few months of worry, guesswork and, eventually, preparation we’re encouraged to open again.
Shortly afterwards many eateries have customers funnelled their way via Eat Out To Help Out  – a wonderful government scheme to feed fried chicken to people who had, by this point, exhausted their caches of rice and pasta, and who were now presumably surviving on rations of toilet roll. It filled many pubs, cafes, restaurants and fast food outlets on traditionally quieter days, and cost the British tax payer over half a billion quid (No Marcus Rashfords were harmed during this initiative)

IN
…ish
Three weeks ago the government ordered us to close again, which was a bit of a kick in the peanuts as we’d been preparing for the journey through the tiers.
As Torbay edged towards the second level of restrictions, we astutely prepared. We covered, heated and refurbished our beer garden at Molloy’s St Marychurch in anticipation of household mixing being restricted to outdoor areas. Tables were placed for adequate elbow room (or is that arse room? I doubt our government would know the difference).
The investment was fairly substantial, so the short notice of enforced closure was very disappointing and, as an industry, it felt like – with the government encouraging people to use hospitality then citing us as the pariahs of pestilence – we had been set up to be the villains.
This disgruntlement was only further compounded when it seemed that only hospitality and small businesses had been affected by this second wave of restrictions, and the rest of the country was left to carry on as normal. In fact supermarkets were busier than ever with apparently nought but the most perfunctory of distancing guidelines.
We weren’t allowed to even sell takeaways without people pre ordering (whatever that means. Have you ever bought anything by asking for it afterwards?)
So we twiddled our thumbs and waited for the next set of rules to spend money on.

OUT
If the latest reports are correct, then it seems that the tier system will be reconvened next week when this cockeyed lockdown ends.
Guess what though? Rules for hospitality within these tiers of clowns will be changed and tightened. Again. A ‘substantial meal’ will need to be served with anybody wishing to use pubs in tier two areas including (wait for it) outdoor spaces! Aaaargh!

SHAKE IT ALL ABOUT
So now it appears that possibly the most at risk group of all the hospitality industries, the wet led public house, will either have to somehow convince its customers – many of whom consider eating to be cheating in a pub – to tuck into a spag bol with their half of cider, reinvest and reinvent themselves as gastro pubs (yawn), or remain closed.
I presume that the reasons for this are to stop people going on pub crawls and congregating over the traditional party season. But with the rule of six, the distancing measures already in place and being laboriously enforced and amiably adhered to by the vast majority, then it will be a very different festive period anyway. And many people won’t bother going out if they can’t mingle, dance, sing and hug their friends at Christmas.
Because that’s what it’s all about.