Catching flights, not COVID-19: What it was like to travel during a pandemic

Pictured above: Adelaide Green, sophomore journalism and digital communications major, poses for a photo in front of the Nottingham Robinhood Castle on March 17, shortly before her trip to the U.K. was cut short by travel restrictions caused by COVID-19. Courtesy of Virginia Zeigler

By Adelaide Green

I walked out of the University of Nottingham Lenton & Wortley Hall, down the corridor and out to the Uber. My thoughts rolled over each other in my head like the wheels on my suitcase. I was supposed to be there for 11 days. It was my spring break vacation — a means to get away from stress and catch up with an old friend. 

Well, in life, you ask the universe for something, and it simply laughs at you like a fool in court.

On my flight to England on March 11, I wasn’t even an hour into the air when President Donald Trump announced there would be a travel restriction on Europe starting that Friday, March 13. I wasn’t affected at the time, and even when I landed in the United Kingdom and contacted the U.S. Embassy there, I was told not to worry.

It was Saturday, March 14, when the news alert came through from the BBC: The United Kingdom had been added to the travel restriction. 

Welcome to the Twilight Zone.

I spoke to the U.S. Embassy again, but they couldn’t give me any hope at all. I was on my own. 

Alexa, play “All by Myself,” by Céline Dion.

Though I was smart and had a way with phone calls, I was not a priority at the time. When my flight was 72 hours away, I could get back in touch. 

So I did the only thing I knew I could do: I got in queue with CheapOair, the third party through which I booked my flight, to get answers. 

Time moves slowly when you’re watching it. It moves even slower when there are 423 people in front of you. Who has this kind of time? Who has the willpower to get through this? What could possibly save me?

Turns out, Netflix would save me. Only Netflix would get me through the next 16 hours. Eight Adam Driver movies and several bags of crisps later, no changes could have been made for me. I wasn’t leaving early; I was there to stay. 

As soon as you think something is going to work out, life throws you another curveball. On March 16, I had an email waiting for me from British Airways. I was told I could finally make changes to my flight home. 

We all know where I am going with this. I queued up again, this time with 718 people ahead of me and “Final Table” playing on Netflix. My dad and stepmom kept me awake into the night. I was in it for the long haul.

Finally, on March 17, I made contact with the mothership. I was going to get my ticket out of the apocalyptic hellscape that was supposed to be a stress-free vacation. But, after what felt like 100 hurdles, I still fell flat on my face. 

Since British Airways didn’t cancel my flight, no changes could be made to my booking through the third party. I was at a crossroads. This situation was only escalating. I needed to get back. So, I bit my lip and pulled up flight listings on my phone.

After careful consideration, I made my choice. Holding (more like clenching down) onto my debit card, I started to type in my information — each digit breaking my wandering heart but proving to me that I could make adult decisions. 

After packing my bags and making the calls to my family, I entered an Uber, my coat laid across my lap as my entourage and I bade farewell to Nottingham. 

After a train to Manchester, I walked off the platform through the airport. I had another eight hours to go before my flight to Miami. All I could do was enjoy my head plopping onto a pillow at Oakcroft Guesthouse, my last-minute hotel booking for the night.

The next morning, my journey ended as I handed my boarding pass to the flight attendant, looked over my shoulder one last time and entered the cabin. 

The plane was occupied by maybe 70 people, including the flight crew, so we were able to practice that famous social distancing. I looked out the window at the water below, to the last glimpse of freedom I knew I would see before imposing my own health-related house arrest. 

These two weeks of self-quarantine have been especially hard, since I couldn’t even hug my family when I finally landed in Miami.  I can’t be anywhere near my grandparents, who — knowing the risks — took me into their home anyway to make sure I was going to be alright.

So, now I’m taking pointers from fictional superhero Scott Lang to find entertainment and following fictional character Ben Solo’s lead on social distancing. But it’s hard. To say the least, my Hulu and Disney+ subscriptions are getting more of a workout than me. But as the East High School Wildcats once said, “We’re All In This Together.”

Since I have started my self-quarantine, I have come up with ideas to still do little acts of kindness for people around me. I find that there is so much we can do if we just apply ourselves.

As for my friend, Virginia — the reason for my visit — she was an amazing host, helping me with all of the phone calls and even advising me to leave if I had the opportunity. I would not have been able to do it without her, and all of her UberEats orders, binge recommendations and memes.

And for those who were wondering: I don’t regret any of this adventure. We were safe in our actions to help reduce the risk of spreading germs by washing our hands for the recommended 20 seconds and not licking handrails. 

I’m so happy that I had the opportunity to see my best friend and explore London and Nottingham with her. There’s a saying that goes, “It is all about the journey, not the destination.” Despite a pandemic cutting the trip short, I couldn’t agree more.

+15

-11

Written by: Adelaide Green on March 30, 2020.
Last revised by: Kat PiccoloApril 5, 2020.