On Coming Home

When is it time to go home? What does home mean when I have sold all my belongings and own almost nothing but my bicycle and the clothes on my back? These are questions I grappled with back in January, and then much more acutely last week.

Before I could fly to Australia in mid- February I first had to purchase an outbound ticket– to make sure I didn’t stay! Even though I was starting to feel homesick for California, cheap tickets to Taiwan – a place that so many people praise as providing an amazing cycle touring experience – were hard to resist so I planned to spend a few weeks there in Spring before returning to Santa Barbara. I went online to purchase my ticket to Taiwan and saw a few articles about this novel corona virus. At the time almost all reported cases were in mainland China, with only one reported case in Taiwan and hardly anyone was talking about it yet. However, the virus seemed poised to spread, I would be taking ChinaAir to Taiwan, and I really did feel strongly drawn back to my loved ones in Santa Barbara, so I decided to skip Taiwan and purchase a ticket to California from Australia in late March. At the time I felt like maybe I was overreacting and using this novel virus as an excuse to cut my bike tour shorter than I had originally planned. Given the current situation, that’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I’m so glad I didn’t purchase that ticket to Taiwan (who by the way, last I checked, was doing a better job of responding to the virus than most places, but going to a non-English speaking country in the height of this pandemic is the last thing I would be doing this week)!

I spent three exciting weeks in Tasmania (see previous post) and then took the overnight ferry The Spirit of Tasmania over to Melbourne on the mainland of Australia.

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My friend Richelle picked me up in Melbourne and spent the next week hosting me and showing me the sights in the Melbourne area.

I then flew, sans bicycle, to Perth to see my friends Brett and Natalie who recently relocated from Santa Barbara back to Australia. I hope my next post will be about my gratitude to all the people that housed me and showed me love and generosity during my travels! From Brett and Natalie’s place we headed out on a road trip up the Western coast of Australia. We went to the Pinnacles at sunset and did a series of small hikes in Kalbarri Gorge over the next couple days. About two days after my arrival I had a bit of a sore throat and sniffles that seemed to stem from a combination of allergies and the affront to my system of constant air conditioning; my friends were having similar symptoms.

By the time we returned to Natalie and Brett’s house in Fremantle I was feeling a bit more congested and really hoped I would sleep it off since I had a red-eye flight the following night, meanwhile being all too aware of the spread of COVID-19, but also being aware that at the time It was more likely to be the common cold than COVID-19. That night was a rough night filled with deep congestion and lots of coughing. I was upstairs in their son’s room and their home has a series of floors and landings at odd angles. In the middle of the night I went downstairs to use the toilet and misjudged the last step, launching myself into space and landing on my ribs on the railing that is essentially a horizontal one inch pipe. It flexed and I thought I was going ass over tea kettle down another level. The railing held and I escaped with a bruised rib to accompany my cough, grateful I didn’t fall forward and test out my travel insurance at the local hospital. I eventually got my pathetic self back to bed and by morning was convinced that there was no way I was going to fly back to Melbourne that night. My flight back to the US was about another week out. I was already starting to feel the stress of my choices: fly sick or possibly stay in Australia for an unknown amount of time.  Brett kindly tracked down a thermometer and some cough syrup. The thermometer confirmed what I already believed to be true – I did NOT have a fever. Given all reports of the virus at that time stressed fever as a symptom combined with the other evidence led me to believe I probably had something more common; however, I still didn’t want to be that jerk coughing on the plane! Honestly, I still would have preferred to be tested for the virus first, even if that meant delaying my flight a few days while I waited for the results, but like many countries, Australia was only making the test available to those who had recently completed international travel and had a fever in addition to other symptoms. By midday I was feeling a lot better and decided I could make the flight from Perth to Melbourne and would be fastidious about keeping my germs to myself.

The overnight flight went ok and I was back at Richelle’s house where her boyfriend was now home sick from work – oh boy! I was wrecked and slept most of that day and the following night before reemerging feeling more alive. Meanwhile news of COVID19 continued to become more and more bleak. My flight home was now less than a week out, but borders were closing fast. As much as I didn’t want to fly with an unknown illness, I also desperately wanted to get home and not be stuck in Australia for months to come.

At this point many people were saying to me and my other bikepacking friends abroad: “It’s better where you are” and “Stay there and enjoy it”. What many people didn’t seem to realize is that whether bikepacking or backpacking you are not in the wilderness indefinitely. At the very least you have to go into small towns for food resupply, which for me generally occurs every two to three days. By traveling between small towns you are possibly exposing these individuals without nearby hospitals nor many resources to fight the spread of the virus nor virus related illness. Also, doors to so many places were closing I didn’t even know if I would be able to get food in small villages. All this meant that if I stayed in Australia I would need to spend my limited funds on housing for an unknown amount of time. And, just as importantly, I didn’t want to be alone (and possibly sick) in a foreign country, despite having a couple of friends in the country it’s just not the same as being surrounding by your community.

As soon as I had one semi-decent day of health I decided I needed to get the first flight available. I now had (and still have) friends stuck in Peru due to them closing their borders with no warning. Even if the US didn’t close its borders to me, I didn’t know how much longer planes would be flying. Airlines serving my region had already drastically cut both domestic and international flights. I tried to limit exposure by purchasing a new ticket with a direct flight but at the final stage of online purchase the purchase kept failing. I tried calling and it was a multi-hour wait for an agent. With my current ticket I could at least change the date online so I moved my flight up to the next day and prepared to keep my germs to myself as much as possible. My flight from Melbourne to Auckland was nearly empty. I was wearing a mask and as soon as I got to my seat I began wiping down all surfaces with heavy duty cleaning wipes. A woman seated across the aisle saw me and began doing the same; I’m glad that my actions made her feel uninhibited enough to take action. From the beginning the New Zealand government has been very proactive about the virus; requiring a two week quarantine of all incoming passengers long before other countries even gave it consideration. At the airport I expected specific health questions but instead you were more generically asked to tell an agent if you felt unwell. They handed out information cards on self-isolating, how to do that, and a number to call if you developed any symptoms.

My flight from NZ to LA was completely full, mostly with elderly people. I *really* hope the virus was not circulating on that flight. I completed a full wipe down of my area and shared my wipes with the couple next to me. A funny story about being at the Auckland Airport: All USA bound flights had been isolated to one wing and at this point the only people traveling were those trying to get home. I noted to myself that this was the most Americans I had been around in four months. I kid you not, five minutes later the man next to me started bitching about what an inconvenience this all was. Ha! Freaking Americans! Seriously, I can never imagine a Kiwi being this selfish. Don’t be that dude. The bulk of us were focusing on our extreme gratitude to be getting a flight home and I was worried about the health of the flight attendants on the front line of exposure. With the exception of not sleeping a single moment on this 13 hour flight it went smoothly. Since our flight was delayed a bit I was concerned about making it through customs in time to make my 2pm shuttle to Santa Barbara. I had seen pictures and read stories about the crowds and six hour waits at some international airports just days before, combine that with presumably heightened security and passenger health checks I had no idea how long customs would last. I waited in line for ONE person before reaching an agent and my bags were out in another 15 minutes. At LAX there was not a single word about the virus. No one telling incoming passengers to self-isolate for two weeks. Not one single question about my health. No one taking temperatures like some airports have done. I really couldn’t believe my eyes. If you didn’t already know to self-isolate you would not have learned it as you entered the country. Unbelievable really.

I caught my shuttle and was one of two people making our way back to Santa Barbara. Jesse met me at the shuttle and we came home to start our two weeks of isolation together. Since SBCC campus is physically closed he can’t go in to work anyway. He stocked the house full of delicious foods and drinks and here we sit. I’m so grateful to have someone with the desire and ability to spend this time with me. I was already so homesick a month ago and to return and be in complete isolation for a couple more weeks would be incredibly frustrating. As it is, it’s tough to have my friends so close and not be able to see them, and when I do see them to still not be able to hug them; however, it is important and we will wait. My cough is slowly getting better and after five days Jesse is not showing any signs of illness and my friends in Australia are not sick either, so this all bodes well for my conclusion that I most likely just had a bad common cold. Meanwhile, my bruised rib still hurts with every cough and attempt to lift myself or anything heavy. Which just makes me continue to laugh in that “insult to injury” sort of way that I deal with life’s lemons.

Stay protected and safe my friends. We will get through this and hopefully with a lot less deaths and hospitals stays than expected.  This is my home! I love you my friends and family.