Is this my only trip in 2020?

2020 was following the same formula I put in place in 2018 and was successfully played out in 2019. 

Slot into the year planner all your travels, run events, festivals, gigs, family commitments then sit back and enjoy yourself.  After the disappointment of saying goodbye to an awesome planned trip to Asia, I was ready for my new travel plans to unfold, starting in Europe.

That was until the virus, now widely known as Covid-19, started to have impacts nearer home in Europe. 

After North Korea closed its doors, I still heard news of the virus, but it always seemed to be Asia based.  Then, around late February, things got weird in Italy.  The virus was now in Europe, which suddenly became the new epicenter. There was news of a super spreader in Italy, who had shown flu-like symptoms after he apparently contracted the virus from a friend who had visited China. Whole villages were being locked down to contain the virus from spreading through the country. 

At this point, I felt that uncomfortable feeling in my tummy when I realised this was not an Asia only problem. It will soon be invading every country in the world.  It felt unreal. 

I remember when I had a catch up with my best friend at the end of January. I explained I had planned this amazing trip to Asia, but this thing called Covid had hijacked it.  And now here we all are watching a worldwide virus unfold, which no one really knows anything about, with each country being grounded to a chilling standstill.

While the world looked upon Italy, the rest of Europe was still operating ‘business as usual’, well at least for now.  Things seemed to be escalating very quickly and the situation was being assessed daily. 

While in Sri Lanka, I booked a nice pre-Easter trip to France. It was soon that time of year and all flights were still flying to France.  There were no restrictions in place.  People at work kept asking if I was flying to France.  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ was my response.  Maybe I was in denial of how serious this was going to become, but I wasn’t going to self-sabotage my own trip to France.  The weather forecast looked amazing and I had a notebook full of plans penciled in.        

I flew to Marseille on Thursday 12th March.  The Covid situation seemed to escalate across Europe that weekend.  Covid was constantly being spoken about in the news, across all channels. And back home in the UK people were panicking about the thought of a full lockdown, with supermarkets seeing unprecedented volumes of crazy panic buying.  Loo roll was the number one item on everyone’s shopping list. The bulk purchase craze had begun.

On Saturday 14th at 11 pm, France moved into a non-essential lockdown.  I had seen it pop up on the BBC news notification as I sat on the train heading back to Marseille.  When you read the words in the news report and see the President address the French nation, the country you are currently visiting, you do feel a bit weird.

I thought to myself, ‘should I even be here’. 

That evening I arrived back at my hotel in Marseille, after a few days in Montpelier.  The man working reception shrugged his shoulders when I asked what to expect the next morning when I woke up.  He explained this was not a situation the French had ever experienced and told me we would all experience this together.  ‘Okay’!

I went to bed that night knowing the next day France could feel different, and weird.  After Italy, which was followed quickly by Spain, France was the next country to move into lockdown.  I wasn’t sure if people would be out and about, or if they would all stay at home, which was the advice by the Government. 

Until now, the only evidence things were different came when I popped into some shops and you spotted the staff wore gloves. This seemed to be of their own choice, rather than mandated by the Government.  Other than that, there was no visible sign of the virus in everyday life.  No one wearing masks, no boarded up shops or cafes.  On the surface, life seemed normal.

Weirdly everything still felt relatively norma0l on Sunday.  I went for my scheduled Sunday long run, I was still training for a marathon after switching North Korea to Copenhagen.  It was a long run, maybe 16km, so I ran down towards the beach and stopped for a bit near the sea.  I paused to consider how lucky I was to even be in France, to have experienced the days I had spent exploring the region so freely, with no restrictions. 

That day I sat in Sri Lanka, I had just picked a weekend in mid-March that was free in my calendar. There was no real reason why I picked the weekend I did.  No science, or event, guiding my decision. If it was a week later, then the trip wouldn’t have happened.

Lockdown life

Maybe the universe needed me to have one last trip to recharge my batteries for what was around the corner.  After running for a couple of hours I was back in the city, it must have been around 10 am.  The supermarkets were open, with most supplies available on the shelves. 

Of course, I treated myself and purchased two pain au chocolate for breakfast.  I enjoyed the rest of the Spring sunshine, strolling the streets and taking photos down the harbour, which seemed alive with locals and tourists sitting outside. 

This is when I realised what you hear and see on the news is very different from the reality on the streets.  Everyone was calm, smiling, and enjoying the Spring sunshine.  If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t even know Covid was here.  It just seemed like any other Sunday, where the shops and cafes were shut, but some takeaway places were still open.  I treated myself to a slice of Quattro Formaggio pizza.  It was the best way to end that weekend. I did what I felt right, saw what I came to see, and ate all the food.

That day I flew back to the UK.  No last-minute dramas.  No concerns.  Everything still felt normal on the surface, but there was a feeling that at any minute things were going to spiral in a very different direction.  From then on, life seemed to become a movie.