With Planet Earth in lockdown, our industry at a standstill and many of us in self-isolation or quarantine at home, or grounded, this is our blog for you – it’s a way to share stories within our community, to form solidarity and foster a sense of belonging.
Short essays on what we are each doing, how we are getting through this darkest hour in travel, how are we handling withdrawal symptoms from travel, what we intend to do with this down time, a word we want to focus on, a wish we have or simply, an important topic you want to share with your travel friends at this time.
Ian Jarret, editor at large, Travel Weekly Asia
Our plane from Auckland touches down, the seat belt signs are turned off, people are reaching for their bags from the overhead lockers – and suddenly the fear of Covid-19 arrives at our destination. Perth. Western Australia.
“Please remain seated while paramedics come onboard,” an Air New Zealand crew member announces. A team of four masked paramedics bustles through the cabin in protective outfits, fusses over a lady for 15 minutes before leading her and her husband off the plane. Condition unknown.
Our Uber driver appears unconcerned by the Covid-19 outbreak. Our concern is that he has been ferrying passengers to and from the international airport for weeks.
On our first day home from an aborted trip to New Zealand’s stunning Bay of Islands – and the first day of a government-enforced 14-day period of home isolation – friends have deposited milk and bread on the doorstep. We’re able to thank them from a safe distance.
From our balcony I watch a cruise ship – Holland America’s Amsterdam – arriving in Fremantle port. Usually cruise ships announce their arrival with a lengthy blast of the horn, but this ship is berthing almost by stealth. I see only one couple standing at the side of the ship where normally there would be many hundreds. This couple, it seems, has nothing to wave about.
Another Carnival ship, the Pacific Princess, had docked earlier, its passengers shepherded into waiting buses under the watchful eyes of a posse of police.
The Government has stipulated that non-Australian cruise passengers who arrive from overseas ports will not be allowed to disembark in the state, unless they are heading straight for the airport to fly home.
Mid-afternoon, another friend has turned up with groceries and promises to be back with more the next day. Our dog is next to arrive, picked up by friends from a relative’s house 300 kilometres away. We thank them from a distance and then return to our confinement.
I have taken to sitting on a verandah facing the street to feel less confined but as new travel restrictions come into force there appears to be fewer people strolling the neighbourhood.
There is no shortage of advice on how to spend 14 days in isolation without going bonkers. Watch travel-related movies like the Motorcycle Diaries or Wild or Tracks, suggests Nellie on her WildJunket website.
Humour among the Covid-19 chatter is coming thick and fast. Much of it dark. An elderly lady in home isolation is shown knitting for her husband. She’s knitting a noose.
I like the story of a woman in Argentina whose young son has lost his first baby tooth. The mother wrote to the country’s president asking if he would give special dispensation to allow the tooth fairy to travel to reward her son with a peso under his pillow. The president duly cleared the tooth fairy to fly.
As we’re being told, “We’re all in this together.”
Even the tooth fairy.
Note: We will be running this blog for as long as we need to, to get us through this. If you wish to contribute, please send your essays to Siew Hoon. Send images too, it’s your story.
• Featured image credit: stsvirkun/Getty Images
