I left Mumbai on March 8. By the time I returned two weeks later, it was a different world. Why did I fly out during a pandemic? At the time, the coronavirus still seemed far away and appeared contained to South East Asia. Moreover, I run a travel company called Girl With The Backpack, for which I act as tour leader. Since I had a group of seven heading to South America — an itinerary I had been planning for six months — I wanted to get to Santiago, Chile, a little early to set things up.
I took a fairly convoluted route — Mumbai-Dubai-Paris-USA-Santiago (it saved me around ₹50,000). Chatting with the airline staff in Paris the following day, I found that travel had not been affected; only a few South East airlines had seen a drop in passengers. At the Santiago airport, however, I was pleasantly surprised to see they had already started conducting temperature checks and making passengers fill out forms. For a country that many believe to be poorer and more backward than India, they were far ahead of the West when it came to regulating the safety of their borders.
Outside, life was normal in Chile. I went to museums, ate out at restaurants and explored local flea markets. The only sign of things to come: waking up every morning to news of the spread of the virus. But I still believed that with Chile controlling its borders so early, nothing would happen there.
What should I do?
I was scheduled to visit the Atacama Desert a few days later. By then, my group from India had cancelled their trip. Overconfidently, I stuck to my plan and got on a flight. It turned out to be a big mistake. After an afternoon cycling in the desert, with its playas (thick salt deposits) and alluvial fans, news began trickling in that the pandemic had hit South America. I started to get worried. The travellers I met there — from the US, Latvia, Europe and neighbouring Argentina — were confused as to what to do. Do we ride this out? Should we cut our trips short and go home? How bad could it actually be? I was supposed to be in South America for a few months, travelling to Valparaiso, Patagonia, El Calafate, El Chaltén and Buenos Aires. It had only been about a week then.
You must realise, when travelling it is easy to get disconnected with what is happening in the ‘real world’. I was depending on BBC podcasts and articles forwarded on WhatsApp. It was hard to judge if it was mass hysteria, if there really was a potential problem, or how long it would last. Things were changing every few hours and there wasn’t enough time to make rational decisions. Every person I spoke with back home had a conflicting point of view: my mother wanted me to come home, others believed flying back would be tricky because I could get infected en route. But when a friend asked if I was mentally and financially prepared to remain there for six months, it tipped the scales.
Stress and a long bus ride
I woke up the next morning feeling anxious and decided to get on the first bus to the Atacama Desert airport to catch a flight back to Santiago. But three hours later, at the airport, I found that almost all outgoing flights were cancelled. I immediately went to the intercity bus station and got on a bus to Santiago. It was 22 hours! To put it mildly, the journey was tedious. I hadn’t had any food since I had left my hotel, but luckily they gave me a small ham and cheese sandwich on the bus which I inhaled. Then I passed out from exhaustion of all the stress.
- Pay attention to the news for the country you are in, your home country and where you may be travelling during a crisis. Keep up with changes that can occur hourly.
- Make decisions concerning flights quickly. Be mindful of past travel history to make sure it won’t hinder future travel.
- Consider healthcare consequences and options should you not make it out of the country in time.
- Know where your embassy is located and how to contact it in the country you are stuck in.
As we got closer to the city, the bus was pulled over by the drug trafficking police and just my suitcase (of course!) was taken out for the sniffer dogs to check. It was the beginning of the many hurdles I would face to get back home. They checked every inch of the bag before they let me off. I was wrecked by the time I reached my hotel. I learnt that Peru had gone into lockdown, with police patrolling the streets, as had Argentina. Chile still had parts open but seemed to be leaning in that direction. When I stepped out with a fellow traveller for lunch, there were restaurants still open in a few neighbourhoods. The waiter, serving me poached fish on spinach and a Pisco Sour, said they would be shut down soon too.
Meanwhile, friends were alerting me that 16,000 km away, India was about to close its borders. The government had just taken the decision to stop all international flights coming into the country. I had to make my decision immediately, but the question was, was it too late? To add to my worry, I had a French immigration stamp in my passport. I feared they would confine me to a quarantine centre in India rather than let me self isolate at home (WhatsApp videos on these centres were distressing). I had to find a route home that would allow me to transit all the way through — by then USA, Canada and Europe had shut down and most countries were only allowing its citizens to land. After many phone calls and clarifications, I found a Latam-Ethiopian Airlines flight that had apparently been green flagged to land in India. It was one of the last international flights to land in the country. As much as I did not look forward to being quarantined in a government hospital in Mumbai, I figured it would be better than being in Chile if something were to happen.
Home on my mind
The flight was stressful; I was worried I would miss a connection or that I would miss the deadline to land in India. Luckily, the journey was mostly uneventful except in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, where the French stamp raised a flag and they almost didn’t let me board. Their reasoning was that India may not let me enter because of it. I argued that I would rather be stuck in an airport in India than one in Ethiopia. Also, I had not left the Paris airport, which seemed to convince them and I was the last passenger to board. The flight, 80% full, was so different from the one I had taken to South America barely two weeks ago. Almost everyone were wearing masks and gloves, and some were in plastic outfits, spraying and wiping exposed surfaces. It truly felt apocalyptic.
I landed in Mumbai on the morning of the Janata Curfew. It was bizarre coming from a mostly bustling Santiago to an almost empty city; not a soul on the roads. In the days since, I have been self-isolated in my bedroom in the home I share with my brother, monitoring for symptoms. Today is the last day of my quarantine. In retrospect, did I make the right call with my trip to Chile? You may think I was irresponsible. Should I have put my job on hold? I don’t know. But I am glad to be home.
