In line at the stadium for a pad in the car behind the curve: sixty tests already

Arezzo, 25 March 2020 – The traffic in Viale Giotto is that of a Sunday in August, even if with the wind and the snowflakes it seems more New Year’s. On piazzale Lorentini and viale Gramsci there are no dense cars, sometimes parked acrobatically, by those who frequent the gym and swimming pool. Not even the fences and the swarm of fans on Sunday in Arezzo. It is all deserted, all silent, all motionless at the stadium: there is life but only a little further on.

Behind the north curve there are white gazebos, an ambulance and a sanitary cordon. To get there, there is also a roadblock to overcome. On this asphalt, usually, the kids who try to take the scooter tremble. But now the examination of the coronavirus is more delicate also because it cannot be redone. Sixty are called to arrive at the stadium from 2.30 pm onwards.

The cars are stopped with the engine off, waiting for their shift: one passes at a time, one every five minutes with the appointment assigned by the ASL. It shouldn’t happen if you do but anxiety leads someone to arrive early or maybe late. The appearance of those stationed between the stadium and the swimming pool is the dress code of these dazed days: masks, gloves, surgical glasses to avoid any possible contact with possible patients of the feared Covid-19.

The municipal police pre-filter: only those who have the request of the health company can queue. Among the curiosities of the first part of the day, which went on until almost 6 pm, there were also a couple of cars sent home by the police because they wanted to undergo the swab without the ASL pass. “We are here for the coronavirus test” the two motorists candidly presented themselves who, without the USL pass, used the reverse gear.

An attempt to expropriate the proletarian from a medical quarantine. Nothing to do: it’s not time for mass exams. Sixties take turns on the first day of outdoor tests. The rules for the examination are strict: the patient must be found in a place to the left of the car. Possibly alone and therefore in the driver’s seat. Or on the back seat with the companion in front, if the health conditions prevent him from being behind the wheel. There are luxury cars and small cars in the row that continues to lengthen, a sign of a virus that affects all levels.

The faces of those who queue up all say the same thing: a mixture of fear and embarrassment of meeting the gaze of a stranger we have learned in these days of isolation. But here, in Checkpoint Charlie of the disease, there is no time to do philosophy. Once the entry on the list has been verified, the window is rolled down and the examination is carried out en plein air. A shot of gas, about ten meters at low speed, then the engine off again.

Few pleasantries: in front of the gazebo three operators manage all phases with protective devices that look like diving suits. The times are contingent: first a tap on the pharynx, then two insertions in the nostrils: a few seconds and the swab is done. The exit is mandatory from via Divisione Garibaldi in the middle of empty football and tennis courts.

Then there is the expectation of the results in a hope that unites us: there is a city that cheers wholeheartedly because none of those sixty is positive. So the stadium is the right place.