Traveling during a pandemic

It wasn’t a hard decision. Being made redundant and faced with a wet and cold October, as well as the prospect of another UK lockdown, made escaping to somewhere warm and beautiful my number one priority.
 
The first thing I had to do was check with my GP before I made any plans. Having RA, and therefore a compromised immune system (not great during a pandemic), means a Doctor’s letter permitting travel is essential. My GP simply said, “I think it will be the best thing for your mental and physical well-being. You have to be vigilant with your safety but of course I will sign you off”. Being vigilant with my safety during the Coronavirus outbreak has been my priority since March. I know I’m being safe with where I go, what I touch and who I see. I’ve also been meticulous with my hygiene and hand-washing but the question is always… have other people been doing the same? You can only control your own actions after all. It’s the behaviour of others that make me worry; the idiots that still don’t know how to wear their masks properly; the imbeciles who still don’t socially distance; the morons that meet in large groups, the selfish fools that don’t think quarantining applies to them, and so it goes on. So surely when traveling, the likelihood of coming across a greater number of stupid people is inevitable?
 
My biggest worry was, of course, the flight. Being packed in like sardines, breathing your neighbours air, unable to leave if someone starts coughing, going to the loo in a tiny germ-filled box, the list of stress inducing activities is endless. The least time spent on a plane the better, which basically meant flying to Europe rather than the Caribbean. I decided to go to Greece. 
 
I have been visiting the Greek Islands since I was 17 and have never been disappointed. The warmth and hospitality of the people, the stunning weather, the delicious food, plus the lure of the turquoise water has never kept me away for long. But which Island to go to? There were already 7 Greek islands on the UK Government list that banned all but essential travel, and then I remembered an Instagram post of a friend of mine back in July, when she had visited this particular Greek Island with her daughter and some friends. The photo showed her daughter sitting on a jetty over the most beautiful clear aquamarine water. I knew it was Greece, I just didn’t know where in Greece.

After a flurry of texts and being sworn to secrecy about its location, the Island was revealed to me. Accommodation was found, flights were booked, ferries were reserved. The Island I was to stay on is actually a tiny island about half an hour away from another island, and the reason it’s so perfect and unspoilt is that it hasn’t been invaded by hordes of tourists. Of course there are people on holiday here, just not in the number that many of the other islands contend with. The Greeks themselves come here on holiday and for long weekends so it has retained the charm and simplicity that has become harder and harder to find.

But I still had to get here. I stayed at my parent’s house the night before the flight and woke at 4am to get the local taxi driver to take me to Heathrow. Both of us wore masks and I kept the window open, shivering in the cold October air rather than risk any foul escaping breath. At the airport everyone wore masks, some correctly, some not, but people generally kept their distance from each other and were quite respectful, so that felt safe too. The airplane, however, was a slightly different story. Yes, we all had to wear masks for the duration (apart from lowering them to eat or drink) but I still didn’t want anyone to sit next to me. Imagine my relief when the doors were closed and I realised I had 2 seats to myself. But then I saw who was sitting behind me; two very sweaty men, masks constantly sliding off their shiny noses, and one with a very irritating and persistent cough. Of course, you have to persuade yourself that it’s anything but COVID… maybe they’re always sweaty, maybe they’ve just moisturised, maybe they’re wearing too many layers of clothing to save on packing, maybe the cough is an allergy or an attack of the nerves…. and so it goes on, my rational brain arguing with my gut feeling. My gut won, however, and so I stuffed my denim jacket in the seat gap and turned my 2 air vents to full, pointing them in their direction. The tuts I simply ignored. I hunkered down for the flight, politely turning down all offers of food and drink, refusing to acknowledge my bladder asking for release, and fitfully dozed with my forehead pressed against the window and a pashmina slung over my head.
 
Once in Greece, I got out of the airport as quickly as I could and was met by a lovely taxi driver who took me to the ferry. I had an hour’s wait, so I removed my mask for the first time in 12 hours, breathed in the sea air and sipped on a delicious frappé while sitting in a small taverna. Masks were back on for the ferry ride which seemed a bit odd as we were sitting on the top deck of a small open-air ferry with sea air whistling around us, but better safe than sorry. The island is so small that if one person came on with COVID, it would wipe out the entire population.
 
So was traveling during a pandemic worth it? Put it this way… I gave a long, satisfied sigh as I got off the ferry and walked to my villa. I grinned and giggled as I flung open the windows and shutters and saw the clear blue-green sea only 10 feet below me. I felt safe and I felt free. The stress and anxiety of being jobless during a global recession and pandemic were behind me, and the excitement of having time to write and relax lay ahead. The sun hit my face as I heard the lapping of waves, the hum of fishing boat engines, and the quiet chatter of people sitting around the tavernas in the square. 
 
Someone once said, “You can’t run away from your problems”, but I think that’s rubbish. I have always run away from my problems and have taken the time away to look at my life, decide what I want and make the relevant changes on my return. I have never regretted it.