And we’re off, not quite racing this time, more like a cautious brisk walk. The long awaited overseas trip, three hours across the ditch which not that long ago would hardly of deemed worthy of even being classed as overseas let alone making the pages of the travel blog. What once seemed mundane now feels slightly brave and a little nervy. My prized rational and organised mind is taking on an airy fairy almost conspiracy theory undertone which has to be talked down.
I am actually a risk adverse person which is why I plan and organise. I like to anticipate the threats and weak points, avoid them or mitigate them, at least understand what they are. My brain was always wired for risk assessments long before they became an H&S buzz word. My reasoning is sound and the risks well managed and yet I still feel like I am embarking into a bit of unknown, off on an adventure feeling brave and sort of nervously certain. You know the favourite childhood book….. “we’re going on a bear hunt, we’re going on a bear hunt, we’re not scared we’re not scared”. That’s the feeling.
We’re going overseas, we’re going overseas we’re not scared, we’re not scared. Check in at the kiosk, tap, tap, bing, tap tap bing. Soldier through customs; scan, flash, swish. Step up to security; zip, plonk, bang. We’re going overseas, we’re not scared, we’re not scared.
The everyday normal of yesteryear is gone and everything feels slightly foreign. I have planned the journey like any intrepid traveller would. I have analysed the threats and worked out the weak points and warned WH (sorry to say but his lack of germophobia makes him a weak point) about touching things and if needs must then I have provided him with a mini bottle of sanitizer which I am picking will never see the light of day from the bottom of his backpack.
The airport is full of airport hustle bustle but only in clearly defined pockets. Like a closed down mall with a super sale on in one remaining store. The departure board says it all with its limited list of travel destinations.
The security area is easy with its lack of crowds and the routine easily returns. We wander past the duty free which for airy fairy reasons is on my weak point list. WH has been warned not to stop and shop, like he ever has before. My airy fairy warns that maybe someone from red zone may have crossed the line. But then further on I speculate that the line is in fact a wall. I want to hold my breath as I walk past what I determine to be the wall that separates the red and green. I am probably wrong but still it screams weak point and I take a wide berth and make sure my mask sits snug.
When packed into the gate waiting area it’s important to remember that all these people are just like me and are deemed to be COVID free. My airy fairy decided airport staff are the weak point so again I steer clear and don’t make chit chat. I was always a germophobic when travelling so I feel practised in the art. Banisters and handrails, handles and switches, buffets and banquets are all avoided or if needs must, touched with a layer between myself and the deemed weak point. The old buzz of travel excitement is clouded by the masks, the signs, the perceived threats in the familiar unfamiliar surroundings. I hope the clouds evaporate soon and the travel buzz pushes forward and burns them off.
We have only hand luggage which takes out the weak point of baggage handlers who maybe red/ green. It’s takes a while when packing to remind myself the pack light mantra but once on a roll it’s easy. I always like the holiday feel of having little choice in what to wear and most of all not caring anyway .
There are rows of big planes, with the wings capped, sitting on the tarmac waiting to go somewhere and it’s a reminder that the world out there beyond down under is still fighting for its health and normalcy.
We board the plane and I watch the other intrepid travellers and whilst Prof Michael Baker and Dr Siouxsie Wiles take up valuable space in my brain as I am diligent with my mask wearing, hand sanitising and not touching my face with my hands, clearly there are others who really do not care. They wear their mask like a chin guard, and to some after they have been offered there take off drink it just becomes a neck warmer. It’s not that hard really so I guess they simply just don’t care.
…………..and then we’re off, or I should say up and the world is just that little bit bigger. Yippppeeee my brave bear hunt psych says.
we’re going overseas, we’re going overseas we’re not scared, we’re not scared.
