Travelling During CoVid19 Border Closures

You're perched atop a wooden rowboat on Lake Wakatipu, mesmerized by the sharp edges of the Remarkables mountain range. Imagine that you're drinking a medium dry white wine produced locally from the vineyard you'd visited earlier that morning, where all you had to worry about were grape stains on your new white shirt. Now imagine that you didn't do any of that because you traveled at the worst possible time in the history of travel!

It Wasn't Supposed to Be Like This
I bet at least half of the entire human population has thought about what they would be doing if they weren't stuck amid the devastating CoVid-19 outbreak. How could we not? Our lives have for the foreseeable future, changed. We're relying on technology more and we're almost all temporarily banned from seeing the world outside our windows. I can't help but look at pictures of make-shift hospitals, sick people crammed into wards and closed businesses and think, it wasn't supposed to be like this. In many ways, this has made me more aware of the roles of workers in society and of supply and demand. Fashion dies when we don't have anywhere to wear nice clothes, television cannot be made without its creative force, shelved items cannot be produced, transport cannot be transported and of course the travel sector cannot survive without people to travel.

Taoyuan Airport completely empty.

Jumping on a Plane With Terrible Timing 
A few months ago, it wasn't true to say that nobody was travelling. I know this because I was travelling. Yes, in mid-March I was to step on a plane that would eventually take me to Australia and lead onto New Zealand, for one month. I'd be meeting family who were departing from the UK and I was flying from Taiwan, where I've lived for three years. Although the UK's virus problem had started to be concerning a couple of days prior and Taiwan's flight services had several cancellations, the problems in the UK had not reached serious levels and Taiwan was running as normal with only warnings of travel to and from certain countries.

On route to Taoyuan Airport, I was envisioning the Sydney Opera House from a speed boat that I'd found online for less than the price of a rooftop cocktail. I imagined the sensation of bungee jumping into a New Zealand gorge. I felt the pit of my stomach glitter as I arrived at the airport alone, ready for the trip of a lifetime. Empty. The airport was completely lifeless. Everything on the board had been cancelled. Everything except my flight. Had I missed the don't travel anywhere memo? Comforted by the small queue of people for the transfer flight to Japan, I checked in and jumped aboard the aircraft. It was customary at this time to check temperatures and seat each passenger at least a row apart. I was surprised to see that in Osaka, Japan, terminals were busy and my flight to Cairns was full of other holiday makers from all over the world. Maybe the warning signs had been a fluke. After all, the countries I'd travel to and from were all operating normally. Just as I began to relax, the Wifi switched on and a flood of messages greeted me. The first one was from my sister. My heart sank. The message just said, 'Turn back!'

Empty Osaka Airport Train. 

The New Zealand Problem
On 14th March, while I was 35,000 feet in the air, New Zealand issued a mandatory quarantine for visitors entering the country. As my family had not yet checked into their flight at Heathrow Airport, they managed to cancel the trip immediately and head home to Wales. I, however, was not so lucky. My mind was racing. At this point, not boarding my flight to Australia was not an option. I've found that being decisive is the only way to travel solo. I jumped on the flight, which to my surprise was very busy and arrived to a easy-going airport void of face masks, hand sanitizer but greeted by the most perfect Queensland sunrise.

The welcoming Traveler's Oasis Hostel in Cairns.

The Australia Problem
I had made it. Okay, more than half my trip would have to be cancelled or rearranged, but the morning breeze and the warm smile of my hostel's receptionist was going to make it all okay. I spent half the day trying to reschedule flights, hotels, get refunds and credit vouchers and the other half of the day looking around town for Woolworths, meat pies and someone to sell me a crocodile sightseeing boat tour. Australia was far from the epicenter of panic. Live music played along the esplanade and friends sipped wine together. It was as close to bliss as you could find in a global pandemic.

Rex Lookout, Cape Tribulation.

I ate halloumi cheese, downed a pint of magners and basically basked in the glory of being in a Western country for the first time in over a year. I opened a text from Emily, a friend I was due to meet in Sydney.

'Omg babe. I've just heard we have a travel ban in Aus now. Anyone flying in has to do 2 weeks quarantine!!!'

Free swimming pool at Cairns Esplanade. 

The Taiwan Problem
Wow, what a spectacularly bad date I'd chosen to travel on. Even a mere week earlier would have changed everything, but no, this was my reality. Laws, rules, border regulations, new policies popping up every day from the time I'd left. I was very lucky to have entered in the nick of time to avoid quarantine but I was starting to feel nervous that my now two week trip would need to be shortened again. Everything was changing so fast. I ruminated for less than two days before it all changed again.

I'd not felt travel sickness for years like sailing out to the beautiful Great Barrier Reef. My growing anxiety was not helped by the waves crashing into the catamaran slowly being devoured by the ocean. I spent an hour watching life under the sea; giant colorful fish, jellyfish and a rare three metre guitar shark before I took my stinger suit off and checked my phone. Oh God, who was it this time? "Taiwan are stopping all non-citizens entering the country after midnight tonight" It was my boss. "Can you get back before then?" she asked. That would be easy enough, except, I was eating pasta salad on the Great Barrier Reef, two and a half hours out to sea, three hours away from my hostel and five thousand kilometers away from Taipei. This was not good. Fearing the worst, I booked a flight back the next day.

Diving and snorkeling The Great Barrier Reef as the Taiwanese borders close.

The Journey Back
The most shocking part of this crazy trip was just feeling the difference in severity of each country's prevention strategies. The staff at Cairns airport smiled and wished me a pleasant journey back. The flight attendants practically kneeled down beside me to ask if I wanted anything. Distance was not the friendly way of Aussies. The stark contrast was felt when we arrived at Osaka Airport in Japan where masks were clearly mandatory for airport staff.

Very relaxed Cairns to Osaka: No face masks, no social distancing.

Taiwan had released a new policy that allowed residents to be let in to the country so I was excited to board my next flight and show them my precious residency card that I felt like kissing but didn't given the current hygiene crisis. My flight was due rather soon after I'd landed. Usain Bolt would have been proud of my determination to make the check in desk on time. I had succeeded, but of course as my luck would have it, nobody was there. There were, as I suspected, no flights out to Taipei that night. Flights were literally cancelling before I could complete the bookings. For a little while I feared that I'd be stuck in this airport, that it would close down operations and that I would need to find a new job and a new life in Osaka, Japan. It wouldn't be so bad, I thought- good food, everybody smiles and waves all the time, transport is efficient, it has the perfect climate, kids would be well-behaved.

Cancellations every hour!

I waited eighteen hours to board the next flight. I managed to get a little sleep at the airport's cosy pod hotel, but all of this cancelling and changing was crippling my finances and my sanity. The staff took my temperature and I boarded my flight. Something had humbled me during this flight and the last, over what had been a seriously unusual solo trip; my quarantine would start in Taiwan that day and wouldn't end for two weeks. If the last thing I saw before I quarantined was the sight of the Great Barrier Reef from above, I could lock myself away grateful. I arrived in Taiwan to the ultimate caution. Ten checkpoints were passed before immigration. My temperature was taken about six times, my phone was tracked, my residency was checked, the rules were indoctrinated into my brain.

1. Do not leave the house or risk a 1 Million NT fine. 

2. Answer your calls every day and keep your phone on or the police will arrive at your house. 

3. Record your symptoms every day.

4. Do not take public transport home or risk a 1 Million NT fine. 

5. Stay away from persons you live with by at least 1 metre. 

6. DO NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE. 

Empty flight from Osaka to Taipei.

After getting past the intense immigration experience, relief melted over me. I needed to get a special vehicle to my home, so I was hosed down with disinfectant until my clothes and bags were wet and eventually made it to my house. I don't think I'd ever been so happy to come back from a trip in my life. The trip in total, lasted five days, not the thirty I'd planned on. I didn't see any of my friends or family that I was due to meet and it had not been entirely relaxing. I threw my bags down and welcomed the quarantine in open arms. Somehow, a cider appeared in my hands and I relayed the whole ordeal onto my partner.

Finally back at home with my girlfriend, ready to quarantine.

I can't say that the trip was totally dreadful. I got to swim with sharks on the Great Barrier Reef, scout salt water crocodiles in the wet tropics, swim in a river creek and learn about seahorses in the aquarium. I found giant spiders in the rainforest and took walks along the esplanade at sunset. I met so many elderly men that loved solo travelling as much as I do and a couple of queer people who had found acceptance and good vibes on Australia's East Coast. And now, I was sipping cider with my partner and reminiscing over what was one of the most unique trips of my life. I suppose I'll have to save New Zealand for another day and enjoy the simplicity of home.