I arrived at my government-designated hotel after 24 hours of travel and am writing this on day zero. I need to stay in my room for 10 days and 11 nights. It's a bit of a dump, with a tired, chipped, Formica table, sagging curtains, and freezing cold. I paid over $2,500 for this.
What is that like? I want to cry in this room. My despair is compounded by the fact that my suitcase was filled with sleeveless summer clothes that were suitable for the South African summer, not the bleak mid-winter. They told me that they only put the heating on and I should be patient. The room will be warm in 20 minutes. After an hour my teeth are still chattering so I call again. Half an hour later, a heater is produced after another phone call. I have to perch it on the table because the power sockets on the floor are broken.
I like to eat off an actual ceramic plate, but I also like to eat in those little aeroplane-style packages with wooden utensils. This is what you get right now.
How did this happen? When the red-list status was lifted, I was able to visit my hometown of Cape Town, where my parents are still living. The red list reward for telling the world about the Omicron variant was re-added by South Africa on the final day of my trip. My flights were canceled too.
I took a pre-flight test before booking through Ethiopian Airlines, so I could get back. No problem: done and dusted. The passenger locator form maze in the UK was the problem. I didn't know where I would be sent for the package.
I waited a long time for the confirmation of my first hope, a nice hotel in Gatwick. I was put on hold and told I would be called back. I was not. Due to customer demand, there is no availability for the dates selected, so I will not be staying in Gatwick. I was going to go to Birmingham and I was able to book another hotel.
The departure from Cape Town went well. All seemed normal except for one thing: all the flight attendants wore full PPE.
Passengers travelling from red-listed countries were ushered to one side but separated from other passengers by no more than barrier tape. There must have been a thousand people in that arrivals hall, some wearing masks, some not, and many wearing them wrong. It might have been a super-spreader event, but there was no enforcement.
I am in the city of Birmingham. We are still living in a Pandemic, so we need to take precautions. It is the way that the UK handles it that vexes me since someone is making money off this racket.
It makes little sense. If I get a negative result on my test by the fifth day, then I have to stay another five days. I have a bill of over $2,500 and I won't be back at the school until January, so I can't afford it. The sumptuous Sofitel in London is for that money. I understand.
I have ordered a streaming device to plug into the television, but there is nothing else to do. Count the hours.
A music teacher by the name of Carla Stout lives near Staines.
