7th of July 2020
Dear diary, it’s been a while since my last entry so I’ll do my best to catch you up on what’s been going on. Uh, where do I start?
Since the last time I wrote, my anxiety kept getting worse and worse to the point where I struggled to function. I knew why it was coming back though and I knew it wasn’t permanent, which gave me the strength to somehow keep limping along. The unknown – would I be able to travel to see my family for the first time since February? Or would my flights get cancelled or would I be denied entry or would anything else that could go wrong, go wrong?
Well, it didn’t. Everything went as smoothly as it could have, all things considered. Manchester airport was pretty empty, all the shops were closed, everyone was wearing face masks. What did surprise me was that there were five families with babies and about ten toddlers to boot on my flight alone. I would’ve thought people would avoid travelling with children. But hey, maybe it was essential travel for them. Another thing that surprised me was that the flight was full. No empty middle seats, everything was pretty much as it used to be. The cynic in me kept inwardly tutting and scoffing but another part of me decided to just go to sleep. Why worry about something that doesn’t really matter and what I can’t do anything about anyway?
After my flights (had a layover in Frankfurt) I was exiting the airport when just before the baggage claim there was a police checkpoint for travellers. They looked at my passport and asked where I’ve come from. When they heard I’ve come from the UK, the police woman who was questioning me shouted ‘QUARANTINE!’ to another police officer who was directing people through two doors – those to be quarantined and those who were free to go. Not going to lie, it was somewhat amusing. In any case, I had to fill in a quick form to let them know where I’d be staying for the next 2 weeks and my contact information.
Once I was deemed worthy to officially enter the country I was ready to begin the next leg of my journey – a 2.5 hour on a coach. It was relatively comfortable, if a bit hot. I managed to doze off again so that made it all a bit more bearable.
My family met me off the bus and we drove home, where I was to stay for the next two weeks.
What did I spend my time doing, you ask? Well, let me show you.
The first week was spent flitting between the apartment and country house, eating a lot of strawberries, ice-cream and watermelons, getting drunk as a skunk with my sister, playing board & card games with my daughter and trying not to mush my sister’s cat whilst sleeping.
The second week was spent eating even more strawberries, getting mushed by the cat, seeing a family of ducks, going swimming in a lake, checking out the bees, having the most delicious smoothie, walking around the lake with my daughter and then both of us flying back to UK.
Perhaps I shall write about the 2 weeks I spent in quarantine when I got to the UK as well sometime. If I remember. Remind me, please?