Leaving on a jet plane

It’s been almost two years since I was on a plane. In February 2019, we were snowboarding in Japan. Coronavirus was spreading around the globe but it still seemed like an “overseas” problem. After Japan we were going to Europe for 4 weeks, first to Prague, then Italy and St Petersburg. At the time, Italy was one of the countries - along with China, Japan and South Korea - that was experiencing an alarming increase in case numbers.

I wrote here about how, quite suddenly, we went from cautiously optimistic to undeniably concerned about the unfolding situation. So we cancelled our Europe trip and returned home. I think even at the time I expected it could be years before we travelled again. After all, vaccination was the way out, and even with record pace, the development and rollout of an effective vaccine would take years. And it did. In those early days I comforted myself that instead of global travel we’d spend time exploring Australia. But even that was taken away from us with swift state border closures and eventually a complete lockdown in Sydney for more than 4 months.

But finally, after two strange years that challenged every aspect of our lives, we are free to travel. Well, sort of. We’re allowed to leave the country. We can’t go to all of the other states within our own country, but we can leave the country. But the logistics of actually doing it are something else.

But we did it. I’m writing this sitting in a beautiful penthouse apartment in the picturesque town of St Vigil, nestled among the glistening snow-capped Dolomites. I can’t quite believe we actually made it to Italy. There were so many hurdles and there were multiple times we doubted whether we could indeed pull it off. But we did.

To get here, we had to return a negative PCR test within 72 hours of landing. With a 25 hour flight, that meant ensuring we were tested, and received our results within 48 hours of departure on Sunday. Around the time we were leaving, there was a significant increase in testing, delaying many results beyond 24 hours. So we paid an extortionate $300 each to receive a same-day test result. We woke up early and drove to a testing centre in Ryde, arriving at 7.00am to join the queue an hour before they opened at 8.00am. Prior to this, we had self-isolated at home for one week, avoiding people and places to minimise any risk of getting covid. And when the negative results came through on Saturday afternoon, we breathed a huge sigh of relief. A hurdle overcome.

Before departure, we spent many hours researching the ever-changing requirements for entry into Italy and trying to figure out whether our vaccination certificates would be accepted as an equivalent to their required “Super Green Pass”. This was also an ongoing gamble while we were there - buying lift passes and checking into shops and restaurants - explaining that the QR code on our certificate, although not able to be scanned by their system, was nonetheless valid (according to the Italian Government information).

There were multiple forms to fill out, both for the departing and arrival countries, proof of vaccination, as well as cancellation policies and complicated insurances to navigate. And fortunately we booked refundable flights because two days before we were due to leave we had to change our flights. Our flight was Sydney to Milan, via Singapore, but Singapore was moved to List E, meaning entry into Italy was banned except for exceptional circumstances. We spent a nerve-racking day trying to work out, first, whether transit through Singapore counted, and after confirming it did, cancelling our flights and trying to find new ones that didn’t transit through a List E country. We re-booked flights via Dubai and hoped that in the 3 days before we would land in Italy, neither Australia nor the UAE would be moved from List D to List E. We half expected to be somewhere over the Mediterranean when Australia, with its rapidly increasing case numbers, would be moved to List E. We also half expected to arrive at customs in Italy and have a fat ‘DENIED’ stamped on our passport for some technical reason that we missed despite weeks of thorough research.

But none of those fears eventuated. We sailed through customs, hired a car and drove a sleep-deprived 5 hours from Milan airport to St Vigil, stopping a few times for energy drinks, coffees and brief power naps to avoid micro-sleeps.

Managing to overcome all of that, there would be one more challenge. Don’t get covid. A lot of people thought we were foolish for travelling overseas at this time, but we figured we had just as much risk of getting covid at home as we did in Italy. Many people we know now have it. Aside from the airports, we may even have less risk here. We’re staying in a private apartment and spending our days outdoors on the slopes. There are few people around. And if we do get it, I think I’d rather have gotten it because I went snowboarding in Italy then because I went to Woolies in Penrith.

There’s a risk that we get covid before we leave and won’t be able to board the plane home. We have to return a negative PCR test before we can get on a flight home. But if we manage that, then all that remains is the added discomfort of wearing a mask and incessant hand sanitisation on an already uncomfortable and barely tolerable 24-hour flight.

For the next two weeks, we’ll enjoy snowboarding and Italian food, hoping for no sign of neither sniff nor cough.

So is the rigmarole and risk worth it? Absolutely.

I can no longer live my life in limbo, waiting for the indeterminate end to all this, constantly trying to avoid an illness that is extremely unlikely to cause hospitalisation or death.

I read an article a while back about the emotional tug of the Qantas vaccination ad campaign and this line stuck with me -

for a relatively isolated country like Australia, alone at the bottom of the globe, travel is so fundamental to who we are

It is. We live in a vast land girt by sea. We’re thousands of kilometres from the nearest global cities. We drive long distances without a second thought. We think nothing of a flight across the country for a brief weekend sejourn. We’re in every corner of earth, itching to find a place our fellow travellers haven’t found. And while we always find our way home, we’re already thinking about where to go next. It is fundamental to who we are.

And it is fundamental to who I am. I’ve always known that I love to travel and I’ve embarked on overseas adventures probably more than the average Australian. But even I didn’t appreciate just how fundamental the frequent departure from this captivating country was to who I am. Really deep down.

And as I learnt, following a period of depression, frequent overseas travel is essential to my mental health (along with other important routines and joyful activities). It had become such a usual feature of my life that I had taken it for granted. For me, exploring unfamiliar lands, experiencing culture through food and drink, finding beauty in unexpected locations, chasing the perfect powder, hearing the foreign tongues of the world, and being on the move is not just something I enjoy doing, but is part of my purpose in life. It is fundamental to the vision I have for my life.

I finally feel like myself again.