I ended my last post with a note about assuming I made it home on 11 April if you hadn’t heard from me. Well, we did make it home but it was earlier than 11 April.

Let me take you back a week…

We had more or less resigned ourselves to another week in the Intercontinental Hotel in Sydney where we would complete our 14-day quarantine.

That was Friday, but emails we had received from the health department and the people who had played a large role in us being locked up before laws mandated otherwise said that our situation was under review.

What that meant or why it had been undertaken, we were not informed. We were expecting a teleconference with the Chief Medical Officer but this had been put off for two days as she had admittedly more important things to deal with at the time.

The problem was we’d all been primed. It was like hearing the jangling of the gaoler’s keys. Were we being freed or were we about to be figuratively tortured some more?

Saturday arrived with two food deliveries from family with a great selection of food and entertainment. Our collection of apples increased by a third. We had snacks aplenty.

But Saturday also brought with it word that we were going to be released from quarantine early and allowed to go home. Why? The Public Health Order had been reviewed and was recommended to be rescinded. Why? Buggered if I know.

Excitement rippled through our group and bounced off the walls in our little room. Glen packed quickly. I took a little longer, still unbelieving of the change.

WA borders were closing, even to residents, on Sunday night at midnight, perhaps a reason for our early release, but convenience had not been an underlying factor in decision making processes before then so it was unlikely to be one now.

We checked flights home. There was one at 5:25pm and it was already 1pm. Would we make it?

The steps that would have to be taken before we could be released was a phone interview with a doctor to let them know if we had any symptoms, a letter to the health department, the rescinding of the Public Health Order, and a letter saying we were allowed to travel home.

We got our phone call at 1:30pm and were told to expect the doctor’s letter in an hour.

The letter did not come.

We figured the latest we could leave and still make the plane was 4pm.

Four pm came and went. About twenty minutes later we were informed that a member of our group had been tested for Covid-19 because they had symptoms and test results would be received around midnight.

We weren’t going anywhere.

We were deflated, but also concerned for the well-being of one of our own. Were they very unwell? How must they be feeling at that moment?

We went to bed.

At 11:30pm, for some reason that remains foggy, we were called by the health department and informed that the test results had come back negative. We would be free to leave.

We asked if should book flights and they said yes, book flights. There were three flights leaving Sydney the next day, one in the morning, one at lunchtime, and one in the late afternoon. We booked the lunchtime one and went to beed.

…

You think we’d have learned this lesson by now.

A race to get home

Sunday dawned. We were excited. We were going to be leaving. The Queenslanders opted to stay the full 14 days so they didn’t have to do another 14 when they got into their state.

As for us in WA, it didn’t matter how long we’d done elsewhere, we’d still have to do 14 days quarantine. I’d emailed the WA people to ask if that could be at home rather than a hotel and was informed it could be done at home.

I was relieved. Provided the response I received could be trusted. I definitely did not want to go back into an airless room for two weeks, and strongly considered remaining in NSW until things changed.

Meanwhile, we waited for any indication that we were free to leave. We had a flight to catch! The Health Department knew this as we’d had to provide flight details. Surely they’d let us out in time.

But the hours wore on.

We gave our leftover supplies to Andrea next door and wished her well, then paced the room. We could make the flight if we left at 11am. But that window was closing.

No one could give us any indication on what was really going on. A police officer rang and said that the rescinded Public Health Order had to go from Health to the local police station who then decided whether they would allow it. It then had to go to the hotel and be processed.

He said not to book our flights. I said we already had because we were told to and they needed flight details.

This was yet another instance where the left hand doesn’t even know there’s a right hand, let alone what it’s doing.

He was friendly though because after all he is there to relay orders. I rang the person who’d signed the Public Health Order and asked what was happening. He gave some information but was largely out of the loop now the orders had been rescinded. They were now with the police.

Time of departure got closer. My heart sank lower. This close to getting out, I was almost at breaking point. Glen took a photo of me around this time. My head was in my hand and I just look beaten.

I think I was also weighed down with the prospect that an unfriendly police commissioner would give orders to not allow us to leave.

To ease some of the stress we cancelled our flights, getting a credit voucher that we could hopefully use on the next flight.

Soon after 12, a doctor showed up at the door. In gowns and masks, she handed over a piece of paper that said the order had been rescinded, an explanation of what had happened that led to our early incarceration (mostly blaming the police), and a letter saying how long we’d been in quarantine.

We were pretty much allowed to leave. She would call back in an hour to ask for our flight details which the police needed.

We booked the 5:40pm flight and waited for the phone call.

It didn’t come. Instead the doctor and a police officer showed up at the door with a bag of masks and some cab vouchers and asked if we’d booked our flights. We said yes, and we were now free to leave. We said goodbye.

I think I was relieved, but at this stage I was probably so bewildered by it all and so untrusting that we were actually leaving, it didn’t come out until later.

We gathered our bags, called out goodbye to Andrea, and walked to the elevator. Ravinder joined us. We were getting somewhere.

Police filled the lobby, eyeing us warily like we had Ebola rather than a potential (but unlikely) case of Covid. We showed them our letters and they signed us out. They didn’t call us a taxi.

I did that once we got outside.

Outside was wonderful. There was a breeze. It was a lovely day. My eyes felt weird from the different light and distances. We were going home.

Despite ordering two taxis, a Maxi Taxi happened to pull up out the front and took all three of us to the airport. He’d already taken another of our group there.

We sped away from the city to a largely deserted airport. We were going home.

Eight hours to go

We arrived at around 1:30pm and the Qantas domestic airport was empty. Almost all the shops were closed. The only things open were Burger King, Gloria Jeans, and Wine Selectors.

We checked in, dropped off our bags (now much heavier thanks to some of the supplies we brought home), and went inside. We got some food. We found our gate. We sat down. The other WA people in our group arrived.

I walked up and down the airport. I had reached a point where I didn’t feel like talking about experience any longer and wanted my own space and as much of it as I could get.

I bought more food and ate it then did laps of the airport until it was time to board our flight. This was the last direct flight to Perth (the other would go via Melbourne later in the evening).

We boarded at 5:15pm. It was a crowded flight but there was a seat between me and the woman next to me. Glen had the same in the row behind.

Service was much reduced, being given a bottle of water and a packet of cheese and biscuits which I didn’t eat. There was no entertainment. This was a rescue flight.

I managed to sleep for most of it, uncomfortable as I was, and pass the five hours to Perth. The nearer we got, the more I wanted it over with. We were given another form to fill out, then we started to descend.

Perth’s lights appeared in the window; we we’re nearly there.

Close to collapse

Disembarking took a long time. The 1.5m distance thing vanished as we all lined up in the plane and down the jet bridge to be processed by the five police officers at the end.

It took a while to get there.

Ravinder had been towards the front of the plane and rang us at the back to say she’d been kept aside and that there was a problem with the letter we’d been provided.

It did not look good.

When we finally got to the front too, after listening to the guy in front of us vent about things that bordered on conspiracy level, we were also told to wait on the side.

We were that group.

An inspector had been called. A constable came over to collect forms and letters and names and said we would probably be going to a hotel.

I said I had an email saying we could do quarantine at home but when I showed it to him he said I’d left out that we’d been overseas and therefore different rules applied

Fuck me. I almost lost it at that point, but luckily the matter had not yet been decided. If we were going to a hotel, I probably would have had a breakdown.

Eventually, however, another officer came over. He’d been sent a list from NSW Health, two lists in fact. The first did not contain any of our names but the second did. Talk about building suspense. They asked for us to be exempt from hotel quarantine and sent home.

Why this should have made a difference, I don’t know, but I was taking it. I nearly cheered.

The police went off to sign some forms and said they’d be back with our paperwork but they never returned so we were cut adrift.

We collected our luggage and got in a taxi and went home.

Home

Our cat greeted us on our return, it being nearly 10pm and she not being fed. We cuddled her anyway. We threw some clothes in the laundry basket, I went for a shower, and went to bed.

Our bed.

Finally.

This ordeal had only been three weeks but add the four weeks’ holiday to that and it seemed like an age since we’d been home.

I slept and the next day we began our next round of quarantine, only this time we had more space to move, people who could bring things and we could see through the fly screen, and we had our garden. It was a blessed relief.

People brought us supplies and we signed up for Woolworths delivery. We gradually settled back into our lives. Glen has done a lot of home things and is back to playing computer games. I’ve managed to start writing again and have kept up with exercise.

We’re now a week through and have one week left to go. Though once it’s over social distancing will still be in effect so life won’t change much (but I am looking forward to a long walk to the river).

Meanwhile, we were largely left alone by the Powers That Be for the first week only to receive a visit from some under-utilised police officers yesterday coming to check up on us.

The funny thing was though that they thought my name was David and had no record of mine. Bureaucratic systems are working as efficiently as ever, it seems.

They had Glen’s details and checked he was there. They took mine, then gave a piece of paper with some more details on it, and said we would be free from quarantine next Monday. They left.

I still have no idea who David is.

And then this morning, we get a second visit from police only this time they’re reluctant to get out of their car and instead call Glen on his mobile.

They’re checking up on him, but why it had to be a second day in a row they couldn’t explain.

When Glen asked if they wanted to check on me as well as I was there, they said they didn’t have me on their list and I was probably on someone else’s.

How efficient!

They left and I have yet to be bothered.

Meanwhile, quarantine continues apace and we are very fortunate with what we have. The Queenslanders in our group also made it home (though had to drive from NSW to Queensland due to a lack of flights) and the Victorians made it too.

All twenty-five of that group of dastardly doctors (and dentists and neither) who absconded under the eye of the police with their giant suitcases and sciatica.

What daring deeds do they have planned for next time?

(PS I’ve called this post “The saga draws to a close” but I suppose I’ve jinxed myself as it’s not over until the quarantine lady sings!)