It was the year that we removed ourselves from reality. We withdrew into isolation, seeing friends here in Hong Kong only a handful of times. A brief relaxation of the rules, of our solitude, in August was a reminder of the full and deep nourishment of friendships.

Deprived of real, what would I have done without virtual via Zoom? Moments of comfort and of joy: chats with friends; two virtual Christmas parties, including a concert performance by a tenor from Lockdown Presents; a way to try and stay close to my children so far away despite the time differences.

Not only sustaining for friendships. I have been able to learn so much virtually through my iPad. I started Adriene’s 30 Days at Home yoga course and, from one thing I always meant to get round to and never did, I now do it two or three times a week. I’ve attended a Benslow music course on Brahms’s German Requiem using Zoom, something I probably would not have been able to prioritise if it had run as a residential course for a week. I sneaked into Sarah’s Singing Summer School too, despite having nothing prepared myself.

The Cecilian Singers started this term with rehearsals via Zoom and we recorded a taster concert just in time before our venues were closed to gatherings again just before Christmas. My Bromley choir has gone online too and, instead of learning the pieces alone, I attend virtual rehearsals with them even though I have to set my alarm for 3am. It’s worth it for the company, the sense of working together to make something good, which is the whole point of being in a choir.

Even introverted people like me – no, I’m not joking – need company. And in the absence of the real thing, we have the virtual. What virtual cannot provide is the comfort of touch. What a glorious, poignant joy it will be to hold and to kiss those we love when that possibility returns. Let us hope that we don’t have to wait too long.