7 July 2020
Suddenly it was Tuesday morning. The days of the week hadn’t really mattered much up until now. It was all roughly the same, perhaps with a few less work calls on the weekend. But this Tuesday matters.
It was The. Day.
We were packed.
We had tried (relatively unsuccessfully) to restore the rooms to their former state. Unfortunately the wash back from the blocked sync, the water leaking from the light in the bathroom and another light fitting hanging loose in the living room (not to mention the stains from almost every meal that the girls had eaten over the last 2 weeks on the floor and the odd bit of bicycle grease) made our best efforts futile.
Even though we were officially covid negative (yay for us!) it would require a very Deep Clean to come back from this.
Despite our positive experience a lifetime ago, we recognised that the arrival process was complicated. Meeting groups of hundreds of potentially sick people, confirming their health status, formally detaining them, matching their needs to available facilities and getting them there before their tired and jet lag induced mood swings caused them to explode was indeed a challenge.
We assumed that checkout would be easier. Have covid negative certificate. Will travel.
Apparently this is not the case, as we were passed through innumerable sets of hands trying to confirm our departure as early as possible on Tuesday morning.
We had our plan.
7.30am – formally leave detention.
8am – pick up our van from Hertz down the road
9am – pick up Bonnie from his boarding kennels (fortunately north of the city), head north and don’t stop until we got over the border
Our natural tendency to want to get moving as quickly as possible was exacerbated by the fact that Melbourne was falling apart around us. Monday’s new case numbers were over 100. Selected suburbs were back in confinement. Entire council housing towers (‘vertical cruise ships’) had been put into ‘hard lock down’ and couldn’t leave their apartments (and here we were getting sympathy from being in the Marriott). For the first time in more than 100 years, the border between NSW and Victoria was to be shut at midnight Tuesday night. Even though residents would retain a right of return, this would not be able to be exercised for 2-3 days as they worked through the new processes. Traffic chaos was expected on Tuesday as anyone who could, fled north to greener, less covid’y (for now at least) NSW pastures, from where they would need to enjoy 14 days of self isolation before being able to rejoin their fellow citizens.
Having not seen our friends and family for a year, and having just come out (certifiably squeaky clean) from 2 weeks quarantine, the idea of a further 14 days isolation was unappealing to say the least. In the fast moving and unclear environment, no one could give us a definitive answer except ‘check at the border’. We had images of Checkpoint Charlie style structures being hastily installed across the Murray.
The phone rang at 7am. Be ready. We were.
At 7.30 the first lot of guards arrived to take our bags. 2 trolleys please. We wore masks. They did not.
Our bags disappeared. We were told to stay put.
Some 15 minutes later another knock. We said goodbye to our time capsule including a tearful farewell to Marriott Gary Lonsdale. She took his nose as a memento, reminding us never to say goodbye to her for fear of what she might take from us. We made our way down the lift. Only 2 at a time was permitted (not sure why).
Next pair of hands was the nursing station. One last ‘are you well’ check. My certificate says I’m fine, thanks. Hand over the Detention Notice and, strangely, our passports (feeling slightly hurt that they didn’t know us by now) to get us formally signed out of the system.
One last pair of hands to escort us to the taxis, already packed and waiting outside for us. A deep breath of fresh(ish) un-airconditioned Melbourne CBD air, a wave at the policemen standing guard and we were off!
We were officially out of confinement and into the outside world.
We picked up our 8 seater van, packed up and pointed it north. It was 8.30am.
By 9am we were pulling in the Yuroke Kennels and Cattery, which had been Bonnie’s home for the few days since he too had been gangbusted out of quarantine. The place looked like a health spa. For all our concern, it looked like he had been doing just fine.
Within a couple of minutes he came trotting happily out, delighted to see us despite (or perhaps because of) the 18 day ordeal we had just put him through to get home. In either case, the pats and cuddles almost made it worth it.
From Yuroke, it was on straight on to the Hume Highway and 3 hours to Albury, not including the expected hold ups due to traffic and WWII style checkpoints.
As we headed through the wonderful Victorian countryside, the radio announced that the whole of Melbourne was heading back into 6 weeks confinement. We felt like we were Air Force One in Independence Day, roaring out of danger as the world exploded behind us.
We dared not comment about the traffic (or lack thereof). There was none. We were sure it would arrive. Liz posted frequent updates on Facebook. We felt like friends from across the world were literally willing us forward.
As we approached the border, Anthony’s foot hovered over the brake, expecting at any time to have to bring the car to a screeching halt at some hastily erected watchtower or to avoid some barbed wire.
We crossed the Murray. Nothing except a sign saying Melbournian’s were not welcome greeted us.
Maybe they put the checkpoints on the other side of Albury?
We kept driving, expecting to be stopped at any minute.
Nothing. Literally nothing.
Feeling like we’d been dealt a free pass, we rapidly continued north to the hallowed ground of Holbrook, about 50kms into NSW and safety, where we stopped for a coffee and a celebratory climb on the old submarine that lives there.
To put a cherry on the icing on the cake, Liz finally got through to the ‘expert’ at ServiceNSW who confirmed that we would be considered as ‘transiting’ through Melbourne, and so would not be required to self isolate when we got home.
We were in NSW. We had made it. And we would even be able to see people when we got there.
The rest of the drive was uneventful and a few hours later we pulled into the super classy Lilac Motel which would be our home for the last night of our trip. We celebrated with a final dinner as a family of typically French Thai food and tried to talk to the girls about the year.
Unfortunately, after 9 hours in the car, they were too tired to speak, so it was pretty unsuccessful. So, instead, we took them back to the motel, back to our dog, and curled up with them and watched Toy Story 3, which was pretty good too.
The next day we had breakfast with Liz’s Dad. The girls were so excited and had prepared elaborate birthday cards from their time in jail/quarantine. What we didn’t know or anticipate was that later that day he would go into hospital for almost 3 weeks – so feel very glad we were able to see him and have time together. (he is fine by the way – just a bit of homecoming excitement).
Post breakfast was the long 2 hour drive home. Pretty sure all the emotions were had in the back (and front) seats. Was this adventure coming to a close?
Joseph Family Adventure 