Touch down Heathrow, and wow, I think I’ve entered the Twilight zone. I know the world is in various stages of lockdown, but it’s not until you hit Europe’s busiest airport that you feel you’ve walked onto the movie set of an apocalyptic drama. It’s a strange and eerie place, and was to get weirder still. Only 30 minutes from taxing to Taxi. That’s unheard of and less believable then an apocalyptic event. Also never likely to ever be repeated. The immigration man was the only person I encountered, and all he asked was how long I was staying. No one person at customs, and I even went through the red, “something to declare” zone because I was bringing in food. Nary a soul was seen. I could disappear into the English countryside, and none would be the wiser.
80.8 million people 
travelled through Heathrow 
last year [2019]
My home for the next couple of days was Ibis Styles, Heathrow. There may have been a wee freak out moment when I went online to double check my booking and their website said they were closed. A thought one of my ducks had been shot down. But fortunately no, they were open for transiting passengers such as myself. This would be my little warm-up heading into my CoVid-19 quarantine. We certainly weren’t confined to our rooms but we couldn’t go anywhere, do anything. Although I did have a stash of snacks and nibbles I was grateful to see that the hotel restaurant was open for service. No inhouse dining, but there was self-service room service. A call and collect arrangement where you phoned down your order and got a call back when was ready for collection. I do have to give props to them, for an ‘airport’ hotel I was impressed with the prices. Breakfast was included in the price and all other meals were value for money. You can even get a decent bottle of wine for £16. No complaints here. A couple of lazy days, movies, munchies, and Moscato (kidding, I’m a sav girl).
A few of my favourite things 
and a dance floor
Mercy-date day is here. My final duck. I booked my taxi so very early that even my driver questioned why I was heading to the airport hours before my flight departed. “Not leaving anything to chance”, I replied, and sure enough, terminal 3 was closed when we got there. No notice, no message from the airline, oh well. Thankfully, a security guard was on hand to tell me I was now departing from terminal 2. Although, I am fairly sure that after I checked in at terminal 2 and headed to my gate, I practically walked all the way back to terminal 3. Even had a minute there where I thought I might just miss this flight.
Masked up, temperature checked, all the boxes ticked, goodie bag in hand, we were finally boarding the plane. Spaced alternate aisle and empty seat in between, 16 hours with no movies (thank you Netflix downloads), no moving (toilet needs excepted), and food service that was paired down to a box meal and bottle of water. But hey, no one was complaining – well, not that I heard anyway. Just glad to be heading homeward. Oh, and the goodie bag contained a supply of masks, hand sanitiser and a couple of bio bags to put our rubbish in.
Suitably distanced 
I’m pretty sure 16 hours is the longest I’ve ever been on a single flight – well it has to be doesn’t it, the direct route London to Perth has only be possible the last couple of years, and I’ve never had need to fly out of Perth. On this occasion, there is no disembarking either. We’re only here for a shift change, a restock and a refuel. Western Australia is having no part of the great unwashed coming in from Europe. In fact, local Aussie flight crew, weren’t either. Our change-over crew had all been flown in from Auckland.
As if 16 hours straight wasn’t enough we had a few more hours on the tarmac at Perth airport, followed by a couple more flying until finally arriving in Melbourne. We were disembarked row by row and meet by border security and health workers. More paperwork, temperature checks, questionnaires before being escorted out of the building via a back door and onto a bus 20 at a time. At this stage there was no indication where we were being sent for quarantine, but lucky for me I was being quarantined at the Park Royal at the airport. Honestly, I could have walked there in three minutes, but processes are processes. Everything had been running smoothly until our bus pulled up outside the hotel. A slight of a bottleneck processing guests and allocating room. After a 30-minute wait, we were allowed off the bus four at a time then point out bags for delivery, check in, more paperwork, rules and expectations, order dinner and then an escort to our CoVid-19 quarantine day one of 14.