Won’t Forget This Day in a Hurry

Pan Pacific Hotel, Rm 1214 (Melbourne)

Monday 27 April 2020

If the past 30 days of self-isolation in New Zealand aboard Chimere had each day kind-of blurring into the next, then today was one of those days that, how shall we say … really stood out.

It started out ordinary enough.  Retracing my steps from the Ibis Budget Hotel to the Auckland airport – the International Terminal this time – towing my suitcase and loaded down with a backpack and computer bag.  At this point, special thanks should go to Google Maps, because although it was light at 6:45am, I did start this morning’s trek by heading across a car park that didn’t seem to be there yesterday.    Obviously, my sense of direction on land is still somewhat impaired.  There was definitely no sound of jet engines, or aircraft in the distance to help lead the way, that’s for sure.

Finally, at the terminal and it was quiet, very quiet … too quiet.  But then, so was Wellington yesterday.  Except this time there was a fully kitted-up man in a Hi-Vis vest checking I actually had details of an international flight – before he’d let me in.

“Section C” … he said in a helpful voice, pointing to the small queue lined up at the Check-In desk, away in the distance.

The queue in Section C – actually it was the only queue – may have been relatively short, but it didn’t mean it was quick.  These are unusual times, and everyone fronting the desk had a story to tell and a reason for flying.  Sadly, not everyone had a legitimate reason for flying, even if they thought it was, and in turn thought they were going to get on a plane today.

From a distance I could hear the uniformed-woman at the desk trying to explain to an Asian couple who were hoping to get a boarding pass, that they couldn’t go to Australia today.   “Do you live in Australia?”,  “Do you have permanent Australian residency”, “Have you applied for a visa to go to Australia”, “How long are you going to Australia?”, “Do you have a return ticket?” … the questions went on, and clearly the answers weren’t sufficient for the couple’s bags to be weighed, tagged and dispatched.     

It cast me back 4 weeks to when I was trying to find crew to help me sail back to Australia.  Initially thinking I had two crew.  Then losing one guy because he didn’t have Australian residency as promised; or even a visa to be in New Zealand as it turned out.  Then losing the other guy when Australian Border Force and Immigration informed me that he didn’t have permanent Australian residency either. Better to find out at the start of the journey, than at the end

By now I’d been in the queue for maybe 40 minutes and an airport staff member walked down the aisle calling in a very muffled tone through her mask  …  “Anyone on NZ123 to Melbourne.  Anyone going to Melbourne on NZ123?”. 

A minute or so later it clicked that I thought she’d said Melbourne,  “Yes, I’m going to Melbourne” I called out.  And I thought we were ALL going to Melbourne.  Apparently, there must be a second plane going somewhere this morning. 

Obviously the time was ticking on my flight and so me and a few others were called up a short time later … “Do you have an Australian Passport, or New Zealand?”  the lady asked … “Australian … Australian Passport” I replied.

You could feel the relief in her body as she directed me to the next available desk, calling out behind me, “Australian Passport here!”.  Once finally at the desk, it was business as usual … “Good morning, how are you today?” the nice lady said from behind the mask; clearly smiling.  Thirty seconds later, tops, the bag was away and my passport was handed back with … “OK, you’re good to go, Gate 10, have a nice flight” – just like old times

Next stop was the usual security check where I nearly lost my pants when my belt was surrendered for scanning.  Just a wee travel tip for the unwary, always make sure the top button is done up when removing the belt from your trousers.  Not that there were many people to see … the on-duty staff far outnumbering the customers … at least while I was there, and they’ve probably seen everything before.  It was then onto International Departures and Immigration, where again, there were many more people in uniform than there were travelers.  

After that, it was a lonely walk, through a boarded up, once-glitzy-Duty-Free mall, followed by store after store of high-end fashion brands and labels, each expensive boutique shop looking like a life-sized diorama, in a museum to a past world and civilization, inhabited by our near-cousin on the human evolutionary tree, Homo-consumerist.

Gate 10 was easily identified, and not just because it came after Gate 9, but because it was the only place where I found other fellow-travelers – all, no doubt equally screened, questioned and approved to be issued with a Boarding Pass.

Again, masks and gloves were standard fashion accessories, denoting a certain surgical-ward-motif, which naturally extended to all cabin staff onboard. 

In chatting with one of the air stewards, as I was lifting my backpack into the overhead locker, he observed that there were only a few people on the plane and yet four people were allocated to seats within three rows of each other around me – all individual travellers. This was clearly a thinking, problem-solving kind of man, and his solution …  “Sit anywhere you like.  We’ll put you in each corner, do you want this side, or that side of the cabin”

A few minutes later he came around offering … something …  “Sorry, I missed that” I said, “It must be the mask” … “Do you want a drink?” he said ”What have you got?” I inquired; a bit surprised by the attentive service … “Well, we’ve got water, beer, wine …”   “Ok, how about some water, AND a cold beer too?!”  I suggested. 

When the drinks arrived, I suggested there wouldn’t be more than 30 people on board … “Yes, we normally have over 300 passengers, last Monday there were 7 in economy”

Once in the air, it was soon time for the designated meal, and by now I’d developed something of a rapport with …  a guy that was turning out to be more like my personal butler … “Would you like the hot breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausages, OR would you like the cold breakfast of cereal, fruit and yoghurt?”    

“Don’t suppose I could have both?” I replied with a cheeky grin.  “Sure, no problems”

After finishing the breakfasts, it occurred to me that I’d just had a beer, and I hadn’t even had breakfast … if that’s not a bad sign, then I don’t know what is?!  I confessed this to “my man”, and he came back a short time later with another can of Stella, while pointing to his watch … “see, it’s after 12 o’clock”  Rest assured, that can of beer remained un-opened and on the plane.

The landing in Melbourne was smooth, and I even thought ahead and changed the SIM card in my phone, before we touched down. This time it was another helpful flight attendant who came to the rescue. “Don’t suppose you have a paperclip to remove the SIM card from my phone?” I asked “No, but maybe a sewing needle will do it?” she volunteered as she went of to get a sewing kit. After all, who carries a paperclip to poke into the tiny hole on the side of the unit?  Come to think of it, who carries a sewing kit and scissors into the cabin of a plane these days?  But this was not a time for such questions.

After landing, Mike Clarke informed me (via text through my old faithful Telstra SIM card) that he and wife Robyn had seen us fly over their house in the suburb of Warranwood on the eastern side of Melbourne and had given me a wave.  With so few planes flying these days, it wasn’t hard for them to pick that this was an Air New Zealand plane and could only have come from Auckland – with me on it.

After landing we received an extended “Welcome to Melbourne” announcement, which included … “stay in your seats until we are cleared by authorities” message from the cabin manager, followed by three further announcements from – Border Force, Health Department and Immigration I think – informing us of what was going to happen, where we were going to be taken, and the penalties for non compliance etc etc.

It was a bit like picking up the “Go To Jail” card in Monopoly, with the instructions … “Go to jail, go directly to jail, do not pass GO, do NOT collect $200…” Because from here it was close to two hours of being directed, questioned, assessed, shepherded and transported by a multitude of uniformed officers, including Borderforce, Immigration, Federal Police, Quarantine, Health Department, plus airport and hotel security, oh, did I mention Victoria Police …   

After all of this, I was starting to feel a bit like a lab-rat, or hampster … or maybe an unwitting actor in a re-make of the Truman Show.

But everyone was doing the best they could to keep us and themselves safe, plus of course the rest of the community. Although, as you’ll see from the photo, maintaining adequate “social distancing” on a bus would seem the biggest challenge of the day?!

And how good is this!! Two weeks in 5-Star accommodation at the Pan Pacific Hotel, on the 12th floor overlooking the city .. OK, I can’t leave my room, but I have free meals delivered in a paper bags three times a day, free wifi and free unlimited movies on the hotel network.

Just a quick thank you and cheerio to all those taxpayers out there (and those in the years to come) who are making this possible.

I couldn’t resist photographing a sign at Auckland airport which will no doubt sum me up after nearly 5 weeks self-isolation in New Zealand and a further 2 weeks here in Melbourne … “Oversized & Fragile”

Reading through all the paperwork involved in being “quarantined”, one form was a “DIRECTION AND DETENTION NOTICE” under the Public Health and Wellbeing Act 2008 (Vic) Sec. 200 – this form I was required to sign, in order to accept the terms of the compulsory detention.  Not sure anyone was in the mood for me to ask … “mind if I run this by my solicitor…?”

Anyway, under “Place and time of detention” the form details the hotel and room number and states that my time of release will be midnight on 11 May 2020 … so I might need to clarify whether I get woken up at this time and put out on the pavement with a cardboard sleeping bag, or perhaps the cost of the stay is on MY tab from 12:01am on the 12 May 2020 … but there’s plenty of time to sort that one out.

As you can see from the photos, it’s a step up from last night at the Ibis Budget Hotel at the Auckland airport, and I had to pay for that. 

I was given a Q&A form in relation to the mandatory quarantine and under the heading … ”What type of accommodation is being provided…”  it says:

Returned travellers will be housed in hotels, motels, caravan parks and student accommodation for their 14-day self-isolation period.

So, I’m just hoping that my 12^th floor luxury 5-Star room at the Pan Pacific isn’t simply the first night of mandatory detention, and tomorrow night it’s going to be in an outer-suburban motel, followed by a regional caravan park, concluding with a week spent in a Footscray West student dorm??!! 

Rest assured, if I get a whiff of a potential relocation, I’ll be pulling out my signed “Direction and Detention Notice” and pointing to Section 2 … Hotel Pan Pacific, Room No. 1214 …

I’ve been in my room a good 10 hours now.  In that time I’ve had an afternoon nap, used the kettle to make a coffee, (two coffees) eaten all the “Welcome Pack Treats”, enjoyed dinner-in-a-bag comprising macaroni & salad, fielded a phone call and a dozen questions from the resident hotel nurse about my “Wellbeing” and whether I had any conditions, medication or special needs (apparently chocolate ice-cream doesn’t count,  although she said I could call reception and they could probably arrange it … ohh-kay…), caught up with lots of well-wishers, family and friends on multiple communication platforms and did my best to write a few words for tonight’s blog.  Just 13 days to go, and I’m free.  

In closing, thank you again to everyone for your constant interest and encouragement.  As I discovered today, in my brief interactions with the other bus-bound-lab-rats … every stranded traveller has their unique story, some far more challenging than mine.  I just feel so fortunate to have a Government here in Australia (and a reliable tax-base to fund them) that is able and willing to deliver such a comprehensive level of care.  

Smooth seas, fair breeze and won’t forget this day in a hurry

Rob Latimer