Contributed by traveller Ranjenee, an aspiring filmmaker. When she is not reading or watching films, you can usually find her travelling, spending time with her dog, or working on her next creative project.
From socially distanced boarding, face masks and hand sanitizers to the perpetual paranoia, I recall my last and final trip before shit hit the fan. This is my story of travelling during COVID.
Long before the world froze under the menacing clasps of the pandemic, during the early hours of the new year, my girlfriends and I made an incredibly important decision. Granted, we were under the influence of quite a bit of alcohol (which is arguably how many great decisions are made) but we thought that it would be wise to book a small trip to Thailand right smack in the middle of our final semester, during the third week of March.
Disclaimer: There are many instances in this narration where we (in hindsight) realise we could have made better decisions – such as opting not to take the trip in the first place. Rest assured the lessons learned shall be ingrained in ourselves long beyond the ceasing of the pandemic.
READ MORE: Are you prepared for the new travel restrictions in the ‘new normal’?
Weeks go by and news of the pandemic eases into the forefront of our lives. Before we know it, it is March and we are confronted with the reality that the trip might have been a really bad idea. Being the broke uni students that we were, we had booked the budget-iest of budget flights which provided no refunds whatsoever.
Hence, at a time when the internet was congested with speculative misinformation and hysteria, we had no other choice but to allow ourselves some optimism.
Stage I: bewilderment
The breadcrumbs of factual information provided by reliable sources led us nowhere. On one hand, CNN published news that the Public Health Ministry of Thailand had issued a compulsory 14-day self-quarantine for international passengers. Hours later the Bangkok Post published that the law had been completely retracted.
Snippet from the Bangkok Post article
A couple days later there was an official announcement that only tourists exhibiting respiratory symptoms would be placed in isolation, which provided momentary comfort. Hey, at least we could stop worrying about being stuck in Thailand for twice the duration of our trip and instead focus on worrying about actually contracting the disease. Thus ensued our decision to carry on, albeit the constant change of information.
Stage II: embarking
Truth be told, it was fascinating to witness how the pandemic had changed the landscape of air travel and tourism. Or at least as fascinating as it could be if you were to, say, encounter a wild dragon that is about to turn your face into ashes.
The once-bustling airport was scattered with a handful of business travellers, friends and families. We had checked in online to minimise all physical contact and though masks were non-mandatory at that time, we did carry a good supply to keep us “safe” in the plane.
But the best part was, there was an overall sense of mutual consideration at the airport. People weren’t aggressively pushy or brushing past one another as they usually did, and our personal space had zero risk of any infringement. In short — everyone was as scared as we were.
As this was still during the intermediate stages of the global meltdown, social distancing was yet to become mandatory but luckily for us, our designated seats were at a relatively empty aisle. Unluckily for us, most people in the plane were not masked-up and so being the paranoid bunch that were, we had eyes peeled for any signs of danger, such as .. a sneeze.
Stage III: disembarking
Of all the things I hate about flying, the mad rush to get out of the plane tops the list. As soon as the plane comes to a halt and the “seatbelt” light turns off, the delight of landing at a new destination is instantaneously dispelled by the wave of frenzy that hits most passengers on board. But no more. Thanks to COVID, disembarkation was now done by row.
So everyone conscientiously picked their bags from the overhead bins, careful not to touch anyone else’s belongings, and made their way out. Whether or not there is a worldwide pandemic, I certainly hope this becomes mandatory for all airlines.
Arriving at Bangkok was overwhelming. We were whisked from one stop to another within the airport for countless temperature screenings. Perhaps it might have just been our sheer exhaustion, but at one in the morning, after successfully clearing numerous rounds of screenings, we were ecstatic. It was a memorable welcome.
Stage IV: the trip
Though travelling wasn’t much dissimilar to how it was prior to the pandemic, the emptiness of the streets did precipitate a certain eeriness. Landmarks that used to be suffocatingly packed were now scarcely filled. But back then in March, the underlying feeling of dread was easily displaced by our bright-eyed optimism — a small flu couldn’t stop us! In fact, we even went so far as to gloat about how we could enjoy the experiences without the hindrance of a crowd. All gloating ceased on the fateful morning of our second day.
We were lazily strolling along Chatuchak market when my friend Steph received a forwarded message from her colleague about a new travel law Singapore had issued: all travellers returning two days later would be put in mandatory isolation for 14 days. We paused. Did the math. Weighed the pros and cons.
I had a thesis to submit and numerous final-year presentations. One of my friends was a maid-of-honour for a wedding happening 10 days later. Some of them had work which could not be completed in isolation. By then we were bombarded by streams of incoming messages and alerts. Thinking back, we probably made it a bigger deal than it was. But quarantine was a foreign (no pun intended) concept back then, and it was undoubtedly scary.
Stage V: termination
The maid-of-honour booked an immediate flight then and there to be back for a wedding which eventually never got to happen because of Phase 1 of the national lockdown that was issued a few days later. By the time the rest of us got back to our Airbnb to properly weigh our options, we saw that most flights back to Singapore were either already fully booked or about to be. We decided that heading back would be the optimal option, in this scenario. With that, our “mid-semester holiday” terminated.
If there was anything I could take away from this experience it would be that perhaps the “budget-iest of budget flights” aren’t always the best option. Oh and also, maybe – just maybe, travelling during COVID isn’t the best idea.
Did we enjoy the trip? Somewhat. Was it worth it? Absolutely not.
