Last year, I kept a diary of daily life in Verona, as the first wave of the Covid-19 pandemic ripped through the country. This year, we find ourselves in a startlingly similar situation.

But, although we’re in a zona rossa, this lockdown is nothing like as severe as last time. On Wednesday I ventured out to the market and noticed that our neighbourhood park was busier than normal. It was the same when I passed by Parco Arsenale on Monday.

EXPLAINED: What are the new Italian lockdown rules in your region?

Our quiet residential cul-de-sac is normally used as a car park for the nearby out-patient hospital. I would say it (the car park) is currently operating at about 70% capacity at the moment.

During the lockdown last year, our street was blissfully free of parked cars and the neighbourhood kids reclaimed it as a safe space to play when the lockdown gradually eased. Imagine – playing football on the street!

Of course, the novelty of Covid and lockdown has long since worn off. We’ve been here before. It’s frustrating to be here again, but we know we can do it. 

We just don’t particularly want to. 

Last March was wild. I cut my hair into a Mohican, we thrashed about the apartment to a soundtrack of 100 great guitar riffs, and we drank with reckless abandon. 

We’ve suffered so much during the last year, and this time around life in lockdown seems much more mundane. There’s no longer that lingering fear of the unknown, that misplaced sense of adventure, of living on the edge. 

School of Dad (or is that D.A.D.)?

The most direct impact of the current lockdown on our family is a return to homeschooling. Until Monday we’d been lucky. Our kids hadn’t missed a single day of school since September. In the circumstances, that was a quite remarkable achievement for all concerned – not least the children themselves.

Second time around, there is a markedly different approach to homeschooling. Last year it was School of Dad (patent application pending). This year it’s D.A.D (Didattica a Distanza). 

Unlike the first lockdown, when the education authorities were woefully unprepared, this time around the schools have hit the ground running. Kids were sent home on Friday with all their materials. Online platforms have been tried, tested and delivered and, with breathtaking efficiency, a timetable was even circulated over the weekend.

Teaching is now teacher-led, which suits me just fine, with between two and five hours of remote learning each day. 

My six-year-old is now coming to terms with some of those crucial lessons that we’ve all grappled with during the last 12 months – most importantly how to mute and unmute his microphone!

Two hours of remote learning is barely a substitute for a day at school with his friends though, and I can see why some of the mums (and it is predominantly mums who are dealing with the childcare) will be taking their demands for schools to be reopened to the town hall in Verona’s Piazza Bra on Saturday. 

SEE ALSO: 19 unforgettable photos from a year of lockdowns in Italy

Old habits and new ideas

This week I’ve reinstated a few of my old habits from the last lockdown. We spend as much time as possible on our balcony, especially in the morning when the sunshine is blissfully warm. I try to do an hour of exercise each day in our subterranean garage. I drag the kids into our communal garden to play with the ball. 

I’m also embracing a few new ideas. Inspired by Italian food blogger Roberto Serra, I’ve decided to make my own limoncello (lemons + alcohol + sugar, if you’re interested). I’ll let you know how that goes!

We’ve also got plenty to look forward to. My son will celebrate his seventh birthday at the end of March. It will be his second birthday in lockdown. As with last year, he approaches the big day with a broad smile (this time missing a few front teeth) and an ambitious list (we’ve had to let him down gently on the Lego Death Star). But he hasn’t once complained about the bizarre situation in which he finds himself. Nor, for that matter, has his big brother, who is at an age (12) at which I would have found it intolerable to be cooped up without my friends. 

READ ALSO: 

• Eight things the year-long Covid crisis has taught us about Italy
• The numbers that show a year of Covid-19 in Italy
• How has the coronavirus crisis changed Italy’s coffee culture?

Finally, a note on a subject very close to my heart – wine, or, more specifically, VinItaly. This week came the sad but hardly unsurprising news that Verona’s annual wine fair would be cancelled for the second year in a row. 

It’s difficult to overstate how much of a blow this is to a city that prides itself on the quality of its local wine. For a week in early April, the city is literally awash with the stuff. Wine producers come from all over Italy and beyond to present their products to international buyers. 

Italy exports $7.3 billion of the stuff, accounting for just over 20% of global wine exports (only France exports more), and a fair share of that comes from Verona. 

Verona has been hosting its annual wine festival since 1967 and, from modest beginnings, the fair now boasts over 4000 exhibitors from 30 different countries. The cancellation of this landmark event is a major blow to the local wine industry and for the city itself. 

It is with some trepidation that we cast our eye nervously towards the summer opera season. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Richard Hough has lived in Verona since September 2011 and writes about the region’s history, football, wine and culture. His first book, Notes from Verona, a short collection of diary entries from inside locked down Italy, is available here. He is currently researching his next book about wartime Verona.