Pass-Sanitaire

THE AUTUMN 2021 JAUNT to Sablet was particular insofar as it was undertaken while Europe was still (and is even more so at time of writing) taking various measures to combat Covid19. In the case of France, a régime-cum-strategy was in place to encourage a reluctant sector of the population to get themselves vaccinated. It started on the last day of our summer visit… I think I may have alluded to it in an earlier post…

This is the Pass-Sanitaire, which required various places such as bars, restaurants, trains and planes (but not hotels or shops) to check their customers' vaccination status before providing any form of service. For us that meant showing a QR-code (or the paper documentation with said QR code on it) certifying that we were both fully vaccinated. Most would do this using a mobile phone, tablet or other device with an App that displays one's status. That QR-code can then be read by the proprietor's device using a recognition App. Ding? OK...  Parp? -– get out of here!! I never witnessed anybody being told to skedaddle, because you wouldn't show up if you weren't kosher would you? Everybody has a smart phone, after-all… no? well those without that insane bit of kit could pull out a good old piece of paper with their status printed thereupon (it seems just everybody has a printer!). We kept our paper print-outs handy in case of technical or digital disaster. 

Close associates will be aware of my personal choice not to sport a smart phone*. I didn't heft round my i-Pad either. I used my i-Pod Touch which looks like a smart phone but isn't (you can't make or receive calls on it) and yet it does carry an App capacity. Mme Melling was kind enough to allow me to snap her smart phone (with my i-Pod Touch I think) showing her Pass-Sanitaire as we negotiated refreshment at a waterside café. The proprietor (or his/her staff) barely glanced at it, and certainly did not wave another phone at it. Some places then were rigorous, some didn't bother at all. And one or two folk more or less said if Macron/police/the authorities wants us to do their legal work they can pay us/do it themselves/whistle for it. Nevertheless it has had the desired effect, especially when the République cancelled the free testing that was clogging up pharmacies across the land up until 1st October (a negative test was the alternative to the pass-sanitaire, but was only 48 hours valid… you can fill in the rest). Well done the French, a strategy that worked!

In Summer we had to have a Fr. PCR test (valid 72 hours) to get back into Blightey and proof we had another one booked once back on the hallowed soil of the motherland. And proof we'd been double jabbed, natch. And a passenger locator form so if they could check up on you. If need be. The Fr required us to have proof of a valid PCR test result before boarding the ferry to La France (which we had to get in Exeter on a Sunday morning FGS. Mme Melling was on top of it all as usual. It's why I stick by her, she rocks!!

In Autumn that was all gone except we had to have proof of a lateral flow test booking before being allowed off the quay. And again proof we'd been double jabbed, natch. Again, another passenger locator form so they could check up on you. We got our lateral flow tests the day after getting back to Bullsmead Court. You had to do it on day two of your return. Mme Melling, a breeze. Self? Er no. Didn't work. Didn't show diddlysquat. I complained. They sent another. It worked. At £22 a pop it bally well should. 

When this blog gets selected for inclusion in some time capsule or other you'll realise why that was, by this crashingly boring detail. Oh yes, you had to photograph your result and send it back to Lateral-Flow-Tests R-Us and they in turn reported back to you that you may either party party party, or must go under the stairs for ten days —or something like that. They tell HM Govt aussi I guess. Anyway, the filth have not been round or telephoned us with menaces so I guess we are in the clear. It's social history all this. I didn't force you to read all this, but in a future time someone might just be doing a PhD on the pandemic and be grateful for a contemporary account graced by my natural clarity on this issue; I expect full recognition in the bibliography (for my descendants, you understand: I prefer Adrian John Smith by the way, in that order… what were my parents thinking of?). 

Incidentally, we couldn't take up our official booster jabberoo summons as we were still across La Manche. Be not afeared, Mme Melling (does she ever rest) got us a booking in a South Molton Chemist (there are two) only a week later… so we are both boosted. And we partook of our 'flu jab, in South Molton (the other chemist) the day before we left this hallowed isle at the back end of September. We are covered. Hopefully.

We are, let me be perfectly clear, not party party partying. Boring boring boring (as the entitled young are fond of declaring).

* This statement is, of course, subject to compromise by the passage of time. You can guess what that means… situations change, you know the sort of thing…