Travelling during a Pandemic
On 11th March my lovely Mum died in the UK, suddenly and very unexpectedly. I was desperate to get back to the UK, but the timing could not have been worse. Day by day, hour by hour the borders were closing. It was rapidly becoming clear that we had a global pandemic steamrolling towards us here in NZ and that it had already taken hold in the UK. I had to give up on trying to get back to the UK at that point.
I think my Mum timed it just how she wanted. She never liked a fuss, would never tell you if she was unwell and having just six people social distancing at her funeral would have been the humble way she would have wanted to exit. For me, however, it was very distressing. Watching a pixelated film of your Mum’s funeral is not something anyone wants to have happen.
I still felt desperate to get home. My Mum had a business in the UK renting out eight bedsits. She was 83 when she died so this was a pretty impressive feat. When the lawyers wrote and said it’s time to ready your mother’s house and belongings for sale, I again looked at the possibility of travel. At that exact moment the UK opened its borders for what it called ‘air corridors’ which meant coming from one of 14 countries on the list you would not have to isolate when you got there. Of course, NZ was on the list!
For the first time in five months going back was doable! I have one friend who had been travelling recently for work and he said, “Do it.” I have another friend who had a nightmare trying to get back and she said, “Whatever you do, do not go.” So, I decided to go! People were saying I was mad, courageous, a trailblazer even. All I could think of was being with my family and taking care of closing up my dear Mum’s life.
My ticket cost twice the usual price and it was also announced that I would have to pay for quarantine when I returned. I accepted this, though decided I would try to get an exemption based on compassionate grounds. Just days before I left, Auckland went into Level 3 lockdown. My domestic flight got canceled and I had to drive to Auckland without knowing if I would get through the Auckland roadblocks stopping all unnecessary travel in and out of the city. It was becoming clearer to me just what I had gotten myself into. The stress and uncertainty were certainly real. I got through the roadblock within 15 minutes, not needing the extra two hours I gave myself. Pretty soon I was in a deserted Auckland airport. Nothing was open, no food or coffee.
The flight left on time. We were social distanced and required to wear masks for the ENTIRE flight. I was pretty annoyed about this then but it has become so normal for me now. At Singapore the staff outnumbered the passengers about 5:1. We were kept in single file, social distanced and made to sterilise our hands a number of times. It was exceptionally organised. An official told me that the staff were all volunteer airline crew who felt it was best to make sure Singapore was a safe place and travel could carry on. This impressed me, people working together for the greater good of the country.
The transit was fast and efficient, but arriving in Heathrow was quite a different story. There was no staff to advise us or guide us, and whilst we were asked to wear a mask there was no social distancing. It was the usual mayhem at Heathrow with hundreds in the queue for passport control. Thankfully if you were from one of the ‘air corridor’ countries you had a separate line.
The underground was quiet for a rush hour arrival and the reality of what they have lived with in the UK started to dawn on me. They have had restrictions in place since March and kids have been out of school since then. There are many businesses still closed and queues to get into all High Street shops as entry numbers were restricted for shops, buses and pubs.
I heard many stories about people in the UK who had been badly affected by Covid and are still living with the after effects. One of the biggest topics of conversation in the UK is what a ‘shambles’ the leadership is in. People are absolutely fed up with it. Most conversations I had inevitably came around to people saying boy we wish we had Jacinda Ardern as our Prime Minister, if we had we wouldn’t be in such shambles. Had I gone to the UK three years ago, I doubt anyone could have even told me the name of our Prime Minister!
I spent 13 days there and managed to get everything sorted. Incredibly I got my Mum’s house on the market also. I saw all the people I dearly wanted to see and looked at a million photos. My Mum seemed to have photos in every drawer of every piece of furniture! I found love letters from my Dad who died 33 years ago which she had saved. He wrote to my Mum when he was a lovesick puppy in the Navy in the 1950s. The trip was worthwhile just to find those.
I was concerned about my return to NZ because flights kept getting cancelled, often within only hours of warning. Two days before I was due to fly home I got a call from Singapore Airlines while I was in the supermarket. The agent told me that I didn’t have the right papers to get into New Zealand. I panicked! It turned out that he didn’t know I was travelling on a NZ passport, so he was wrong. My heart rate got up again and it was a reminder of the uncertainty I still faced. In the end leaving the UK went without a hitch. I was greatly relieved when I got on that flight. The flight had so few people on it that everyone had three seats to themselves and I was able to have a great sleep. I guess there is some benefit to travelling amid a global pandemic.
I arrived in Auckland late at night and was corralled into a line again with lots of sterilising and masks again, just like in Singapore. It was a long, drawn out process to get checked into a hotel. Various Government officials, Army officers and police took details from a big distance and without touching anything. We were told they were working as if we all had Covid. Finally I arrived at my room at the Four Point Sheraton in Auckland, a very nice hotel. I was on the 11th floor in a room with no windows opening to the outside. I had a visit daily from a nurse who took my temperature and asked if I had any of the symptoms in her long list. Our meals were delivered in plastic that was thrown away after use. Down in the lobby was a swarm of Army, policy security and Ministry of Health workers. There was certainly no escaping.
There was a small outdoor area where I could stand in the sun and do a short lap on concrete or 50m laps for an hour. If I remembered, I could also book to take a walk at Queens Wharf. I was lucky, some other hotels have nowhere to go outside. Caged in by a 6-foot fenced and watched over by the Army, you could easily feel like a prisoner. I chose to look on the bright side and be grateful for what I managed to do.
I met lots of people who had been through difficult times or were trying to see dying relatives. It was pretty sad. In the exercise yard there is a lot of graffiti from past ‘inmates’. I gathered from the RIP messages that one family had not made it back in time to see their loved one. It was yet another reminder of the hardships people are facing.
I coped mostly by doing my yoga practice (who knew you could do yoga even on a plane while wearing a mask) and lots of meditation. I found that ‘acceptance’ and ‘gratitude’ served me well. Family and friends sent lots of love, and at the end of the day that is most important.
It was worrisome that someone somewhere could stop me from getting home at the very last minute. You had to be low risk to leave managed quarantine. If you had a temperature you would be stopped from leaving. Worse than that, if you showed any symptoms at any time, you would be moved to the hotel where all those who tested positive must stay, and it could be for up to 28 days.
I accept that to do the elimination strategy we have to have strict quarantine measures. The experience of being unable to control what would happen to me was very scary. When I got in my car to head home, I burst into tears! It was pretty stressful travelling amid a global pandemic and yet it all went smoothly. I’m so grateful for that and to be home again.
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