As CoVid-19 Shuts Down the World: My Ducks Are in A Tenuous Row

There are travel adventures and there are travel misadventures.  Throw in a global pandemic and getting home becomes a venture all of its own. It’s like the line out of the Eagles Hotel California song, “you can check out any time you like but you can never leave”. Surely though, I’m at a slight advantage, having dual citizenship for both New Zealand and Australia gives me double the chance of landing somewhere.

Unfortunately, getting to the Antipodes requires transiting somewhere and as I mentioned in an earlier post, getting flights proved to be easier said than done. Not only were airlines limiting the number of passengers in an attempt to limit the spread; countries were closing their borders for the same reason.

Then on 3 April it was announced that the Australian Government was putting on mercy flights, thanks in part to the capability of the Qantas Dreamliner to fly the 16 hours non-stop from London to Perth. After contacting anyone I could to find out more, the Australian Embassy in Madrid finally called on 9 April to tell me the four mercy flights would be departing London on the 15, 22 and 29 April, with the last flight on 6 May. Perfect, I already had a direct flight from A Coruña to London, so the first leg was sorted. I just needed to get a seat on one of those mercy flights, and hey, this meant I could use that Qantas credit that was otherwise, worthless.

The mercy flights weren’t appearing on the Qantas website so a quick call to Qantas Spain to discover they couldn’t help because their system was down. Fast-forward a couple of hours and I get an email from Vueling Airlines to say that my flight to London had been cancelled! Of course, it is. Meanwhile, I haven’t heard back from Qantas, nothing on the website, and it is now the Easter long weekend. What if the flights are sold out before I manage to secure a seat? Do I panic or do I just have another drink?

No point panicking so a wine it is, and a call to the lovely JD, in Brisbane, asking her to “please contact Qantas Australia to see if they can get me on a flight”. Which she tried to do but their advice was to keep liaising with the Australian Embassy in Madrid, who would have the flight information for me. Travel Smart, DFAT, the Embassy all had the same information and advice. None of which was of any help in procuring a seat on those mystery mercy flights. Then when Qantas Spain got back to me after Easter, they had no knowledge of the flights operated on behalf of the Australian Federal Government.

Roll on the 13 April, and Qantas Spain ring to tell me the mercy flights weren’t in the system and that they had notified Qantas UK of the issue, likewise the Australian Embassy in Spain. Seems there was some sort of glitch, and the flights hadn’t been loaded. Well, I guess I won’t be on that first flight then, and the only way to secure a seat was to book it myself online. But firstly, I had to apply for my Qantas credit. How long would that take? Just an hour, thankfully, so flight now booked, now, to get to London.

Why are all the flights via Madrid or Barcelona, two of the worst hit areas, and all with between 24- and 48-hour layover. Not only are some fares being up to €1000 but most hotels are closed. Where does one stay, in the airport?

At least the trains were still running, once a day from A Coruña to Madrid, duck 1.  Then I managed to book a room at the Hospedaje Los Rosales, duck 2. Flights from Madrid to London, duck 3. No, accommodation check-in had to be by 3 pm, my train didn’t arrive until 6 pm, one dead duck. OYO Hello Feria thankfully to my rescue. Two nights at Heathrow, duck 4. Am I even allowed into the UK to transit? What’s the deal there? Emails from both the Embassy’s in London and Madrid verifying right to transit – just have proof of flights, duck 5. What! I have to have everything printed? Where do you do that when everything is closed, and you can only venture 500 metres from home?

Luckily, I remembered a little convenience store on Rúa Gaiteira, that had an eclectic mix of random services. Printing, as I happily discovered was one of them. Tickets in hand, permission to travel, train booked, accommodation sorted. The ducks are in a row but could be shot down at any time.

Social distanced

Well, I was up and ready to go early. I set out, all optimistic, a packed lunch and plenty of snacks to get me through, because who knows when or where my next meal’s coming from? Taxi to the train station an hour before departure because I expected the police to be there handing out masks and checking travel justifications. No, it was all very quiet and by the time the train arrived from Ferrol, there was only about eight of us waiting to board. Apart from producing my ticket at the gate, I had no further interaction with anyone for the next six hours.

Arrived in Madrid and taxied from the train station to my accommodation. There was a slight moment of alarm when I arrived at OYO because the place was shuttered, and the door was locked!  Was this my first duck down, would I be hanging out at the airport after all?

A quick phone call and a couple of minutes later, a lovely gent turned up to let me in.  He explained that as there were no supermarkets nearby, and obviously all the cafes were closed (which accounted for the shuttered building), they had provided fruit, muffins, tea coffee and bottles of water for guests. Nice touch.

Next morning, I was up and out early to get to the airport. Phoned a taxi and the dispatch operator kept telling me I was calling Madrid – well hola, estoy en Madrid, yo necessita un taxi!  Not sure where he thought I was, but I needed this duck to fly.  Spotting a council worker across the road, I enlisted his help, but even a native Spanish speaker could not elicit a taxi to my location. He did find an alternate taxi company that proved more helpful.

Nearly there, or am I? Seriously, the check-in lad was not going to let me check in because I wasn’t a UK resident! Even with all my paperwork which included emails from both the consulate in London and the one in Madrid saying I was good to travel. Really, you’d think that travelling on a commonwealth passport to a commonwealth country, I’d be more the UK’s problem than Spain’s, and two supervisors later, they agreed.

Finally, onboard the aeroplane, London-bound, and not much social distancing on this flight. I’m in the middle seat with a passenger either side!

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