By March 2020, I was eight months into a year’s secondment in GoTravelDaily’s Dublin office. When I moved there from Melbourne in July 2019, I packed up my life in about four weeks: moved out of my house, organized shipping, and jammed in last-minute catch-ups with friends – along with a dash to New Zealand to see my family. Exhausted yet proud, I felt accomplished for managing such a significant move in such a brief period.
Fast-forward through a fun transition to living in a new country, a cold winter spent sheltering in Dublin’s pubs, incredible travels across northern Europe, and a glorious summer ahead, then came March and the onset of coronavirus. Amidst the upheaval at work, unexpected shortages at supermarkets, and self-isolation, I suddenly felt far from home.
As I considered the pros and cons of returning home, I consulted with friends who were also living overseas. Was it too dramatic to head back? Would we feel foolish if we panicked? On St Patrick’s Day, March 17, news came from the Australian government advising citizens overseas to return home while possible. Borders were closing, and commercial flights were dwindling. My boss reached out, questioning if I was sure about staying. Unsure, I spent the day connecting with friends, weighing their perspectives—my Australian friend in Belarus was fine staying put; a friend in the USA advised against rash decisions. My fellow Australian in GoTravelDaily’s Dublin office, Angela, and I tied ourselves in indecision, getting even more confused about our options.
That evening, after discussing our situation with our boss, he was the first to convince us we should leave. He offered to book tickets: one to Melbourne for Angela and one to Auckland for me. Though our ‘home’ GoTravelDaily office is in Melbourne with no office in New Zealand, I figured if I was going to return home, I might as well go all the way back. Everyone at GoTravelDaily was working remotely, so the actual distance didn’t matter much to my work dynamics. My only concern was whether the Australian authorities would permit my entry since I became a citizen long ago but lacked an Australian passport.
That night, I called my sister in Auckland to inform her I was coming to live with her—she took it surprisingly well! The next morning, I launched into a flurry of activity to pack up my life. My initial task was a video call to my teams in Dublin to notify them of my departure, followed by contacting the shipping company and my landlord. To soften the blow of breaking my lease, I gifted her the beautiful food (and a little booze) I had intended to enjoy during self-isolation.
As the day progressed, I alternated between packing boxes and saying goodbye to friends through calls and texts. It was a bittersweet end to my time in Ireland. I reminisced about all the travel plans I had made and paid for—catching up with friends in Serbia, a retreat in Italy, concerts in the coming months—before reminding myself of others facing greater challenges and resolved to pack instead of wallowing.
Angela and I shared a flight to Dubai, where we would part ways for Auckland and Melbourne. Arriving at Dublin airport three hours ahead of time, we worried about potential flight bumps. Although the terminal was largely empty, our flight’s check-in line crawled due to increased passport checks. That night, Australia and New Zealand had shut their borders to everyone except citizens and permanent residents. An airline staff member navigated through the line, inquiring about everyone’s travel plans and passports, which heightened our anxiety.
After a long hour in the queue, security was a breeze. Once past, however, the usual airport amenities like the food court and bars were closed, leaving us with little to occupy ourselves—hydration stations had even been deemed too risky to use.
The subsequent seven-hour flight to Dubai was uneventful, but upon arrival, Angela and I had to part ways without even a hug. The vast expanse of Dubai airport felt unnervingly quiet—the waterfalls still flowed, and inter-terminal trains still ran, but the luxury shops were eerily silent. There was still a queue for the women’s restroom, showing the oddity of the situation.
With border closures escalating around the world, I felt anxious about making any stopovers. What if my flight got canceled? Would there be any flights to Auckland? Fortunately, I navigated the Dubai transit seamlessly, maximizing my quick passage through security and boarding for the long 16-hour flight to Auckland.
This flight, while familiar, felt distinctly surreal. Typically, these flights are an even mix of departing and arriving passengers; this one was predominantly Kiwis, many masked. The woman next to me wore two masks, goggles, gloves, and drenched her surroundings in sanitizer. The mood was subdued as everyone simply felt relieved to be headed home.
A camaraderie developed in the discomfort, and gratitude towards flight attendants was apparent, as they managed our meals with smiles despite looming job loss. Miraculously, I even managed to tolerate the small child kicking my seat for much of the journey.
The remainder of the experience is a blur of sleep deprivation and jet lag. We landed, feeling relieved to be home amid the chaos—but quickly faced 14 days of self-isolation. An extra checkpoint was set up in the airport corridor prior to passport control, enforcing social distancing measures. Health screenings commenced, and they reviewed our self-isolation plans—breaking it would risk detention, as some tourists had been deported earlier for non-compliance.
Now, here I am, self-isolating in my mum’s basement. It is incredibly comfortable—larger than my flat in Dublin, actually—and opens onto a garden. I enjoy home-cooked meals and hot drinks left outside my door, and I return dirty dishes in a tub filled with a bleach mixture. If I have coronavirus, I feel confident that I haven’t infected anyone here. With my own bathroom, ample reading materials, and wifi, I continue to work through video calls, emails, and Slack messages with my teams in Melbourne and Dublin offices. Each day, I’m allowed a walk, do yoga, and learn Spanish—experiences many worldwide are currently living through. Although I had a visit from my sister, niece, and nephew, we maintained a safe distance. Daily, I read about others struggling to reach home and the expenses they incur for flights that never take off. I am immensely grateful to GoTravelDaily for helping me return safely, and to my family who organized my self-isolation plan while I packed up in Dublin. While I wasn’t ready to leave my life in Dublin, we are all sacrificing a lot at the moment, and I can only look forward to the day I can return and properly say goodbye to everyone.
