Escaping Lockdown

She wipes a bead of sweat from her brow that she attributes more to her restless dreams rather than the beginnings of a fever. Her stomach stirs and provokes a slight touch of nausea, but she knows it is more likely due to her skipping supper last night and not from something more sinister. She is used to being one of the first to wake up in hostels and starts towards the bar in the hope that the complimentary coffee is already brewing. It isn’t, but she hears a metallic ring caused by clashing kitchenware coming from the next room, “Buenos díaaas!” she calls with an extended inflexion to denote friendliness. “Yaaa!” a female voice answers using the same tone. A woman emerges wearing identical scrubs and facemask to the medical officers who visited the previous day. Recognising the stunned backpacker’s expression generated by her attire, the woman, presumably one of the chefs at the hostel, begins to explain why it is new government-imposed restrictions now makes it mandatory for workers to take more precautionary measures to prevent contracting the virus from guests.

STICK OR TWIST

In relation to her current situation, the worst news the chef reveals is the announcement that foreigners have up until Tuesday to leave Colombia or be caught in the lockdown with everyone else. A lump catches in the backpacker’s throat. Today is Sunday and she will need to book flights imminently if she decides to return home to Gibraltar. She curses Coronavirus as if it is some sentient being that is deliberately ruining her travel plans, but then curtails her selfish ways after visualising the death and turmoil the disease has caused worldwide. The situation will deteriorate before it improves, she says to herself, however, the epicentre is currently in Europe, “I’m probably safer here in Colombia,” she says to the worker, with more intent to convince herself. “I don’t think so,” she replies curtly. “You are better off in a country where your passport means something.”

The backpacker reflects on her words, thanks her for the coffee and retreats to her room to retrieve her phone. She knows it is time to make a call home and seek advice from family. On her way she is intercepted by the two Nordic travellers who are visibly in distress as they both vigorously tap on their phones, “Good morning. Have you heard the news? They are telling us we need to leave the day after tomorrow,” she tells them. “We know, we know. We are booking our flights now,” one of them replies without so much as flinching away from the screen.

LAST CALL

The influence from family is driven towards one agenda, they all express that the best thing is to come home and wait things out in Gibraltar. If for nothing else, to be close to family in such tragic and uncertain times. However, the cost of flights is sky-high and there is the distinct risk of cancellation. An added danger is the need to transit through major airports such as Washington DC and London, all of which are hotspots encouraging the rapid spread of the virus to distant regions around the world. Inevitably, the most viable route involves four flights in three days, starting tomorrow, Monday, from the closest airport, a 40-minute drive away. Public transport was also under strict restrictions, where only essential travel was permissible. She considers that bus schedules are hardly kept to at the best of times in most of Latin America, let alone in a crisis situation. She is now becoming more aware of the consequences of been caught in a lockdown in a country that perhaps will soon lack the resources to cater for the population. Those without residency will fall down the list of priorities once the cogs supporting the wheel are lost.

LAST TICKET

The traveller books the last ticket, a £75 one-way Easyjet flight from London to Gibraltar, and darts towards reception to enquire as to the best way to reach Medellín Airport, “Yea, it’s better that you go home,” the receptionist sighs as he begins to dial the policeman’s number. “Things are about to get crazy here and it’s not going to be great for tourists.” Following a short call, the receptionist informs the backpacker that there are numerous taxis on standby that will take her to the airport for around £20, so she books one for several hours prior to her flight just to make sure. If all goes to plan, this will be her last day in her prison paradise.

Stuck in quarantine and faced with the prospect of a great escape tomorrow, where any false step, flight cancellation or other unpredictability could mean that she will be caught in the coronavirus lockdown and remain stranded abroad until the virus eventually dissipates.

02-04-2020 PANORAMAdailyGIBRALTAR