Traveling in a Pandemic

When lockdown was mandated here in New York in mid-March, we, like most businesses, closed our office and changed our modus operandi to suit the times. No more face-to-face medical visits but online consultations only. These telemedicine visits over Facetime, Zoom, WhatsApp and other video conferencing tools were a lifeline for patients and doctors alike. My husband, Dr Levy, was able to use his considerable experience and diagnostic skills to treat his patients remotely. Thank goodness for this technology. Working from home, like many others, was quite pleasurable and made a lot of sense while containing the spread of Covid-19.

But then personal disaster struck and my Mother who lives in England suddenly passed away. At this time, there were no flights to the UK and all travel was considered too reckless or dangerous and certainly alarming. My entire family was spread out over continents and we had to wait until certain restrictions were lifted before we could all finally reunite and pay our respects and mourn together. We eventually all decided to take the risk and fly to England at the end of June from Canada, Australia, Europe and the United States and self-quarantine before meeting up.

My husband was my advocate on safe traveling. He advised me on building up a strong immune system.  We both took zinc, vitamin C and Vitamin D supplements daily and ate and exercised regularly. He ordered my N95 masks (used in hospitals by front-line workers), which need to be changed every four hours, and a face shield. I had disposable gloves, sanitizers and disinfectant wipes to take on the plane so I felt quite protected.

  

On arrival at JFK, the airport was empty. No lines at all at check-in desks, in fact there were more staff than passengers in the terminal. It actually looked closed! I was asked to remove my mask for one second at check-in so they could verify my identity behind the Perspex counter. Going through security was like a VIP experience, not even my usual TSA pre-check could beat this. The lounges and stores were all closed except for one Hudson News and Dunkin’ Donuts who shared staff.On board the plane I had several rows to myself and I decided not to move from my seat. It was a night flight so there was no need for me to eat or drink or even use the restrooms. I changed my N95 mask half way through the flight and felt very protected. British Airways provides each passenger with a Personal Protection Pack of wipes and sanitizer and all food was packaged in boxes and given to each passenger to either eat in or take away which is what I did.  No more meals on trays.

When I arrived at Heathrow, it was the same eerie experience. I felt I was arriving in a small town or private terminal (one horse town as my Dad would say) not a major airport hub. This was London!! Oh my gosh! Where was everybody?

When I did my online check-in I was told to fill in a form for the UK government, giving details of where I was to quarantine and my contact numbers. Having a home in the UK helped as those passengers who had no address to give were put in hotels for the required 2 week self-isolation. I was told that the fine would be 1000 British pounds if I broke the quarantine and that they do random site visits and calls. I was not about to break the rules.

Being quarantined in the English countryside with cows and sheep and local farm deliveries was really no hardship in itself but being separated from loved ones is heartbreaking. But as luck would have it my 3 other siblings from Canada and Australia were able to quarantine with me so we huddled together in our Covid bubble and the time passed quickly by.

Our cleansing quarantine allowed us to eventually see and hug my father and my brother-in-law both termed as “shielded” due to their vulnerable conditions (age and chemotherapy treatment, respectively) and gave us a huge emotional charge.

One by one the whole family came together and so, almost four months after her passing, all ten of us (yes, I have five brothers and four sisters) and my 95 year old Father were able to hold a requiem service and lay my mother’s ashes to rest in a sun-filled crematorium in Somerset.  The churches had just opened but social distancing rules meant only 20 people were allowed in the  usually crowded church. Although the remembrance service would normally have drawn hundreds, our small gathering made it a powerfully intimate and meaningful event. The “zoom” attendees were made up of grandchildren and great-grandchildren who watched from their homes in respectful silence thanks to the connected iPad of our kind and willing undertaker. Since when were zoom funerals a thing?

The day after this emotionally draining day came the news of the birth of my new grandson, Kit, very timely and conveniently 8 days late to be exact. This meant a train journey to London but, once again, a ride on public transport with masks and face shield proved very safe. The British are great at following rules, being a highly disciplined nation. Signs to remind people to socially distance and to sanitize their hands with gel (provided almost everywhere you went) kept us conscious of the risks and respectful of vulnerable people. The stations were quiet and the trains empty. I couldn’t hear any voices in the carriage which meant no airborne viruses being spread!

To make sure I was still not a danger to anyone having just traveled on public transport, and having just hired a car and shopped, etc… and with a slight cough, I decided to do a Covid test. I called the Covid Hotline of the National Health Service, (our socialized medical system known as the NHS) and was directed to the nearest testing site just 10 miles away. It was in a large museum parking lot – totally empty but for Covid testing staff waiting for patients. I spoke to the staff by cellphone through my car window and a Covid-19 testing kit was slipped through a tiny opening of the back window. As per instructions I swabbed my throat then my nose, returned it sterilely to the staff and received my test results the following morning. NEGATIVE!

I returned to the ghostly terminal 5 at Heathrow for my inbound flight to JFK, NY after my six week stay. Once again staff outnumbered passengers and there were no wait times at all for check-in or security. This has to be one of the best advantages of traveling at this time!

According to the TSA, air travel is down 66% compared to this time last year. And I can vouch that the plane was only one third full.

I was delighted that all the stores were open as usual from Boots the chemist to the Harry Potter shop. Also, the BA lounge was open but with a difference. You wore your mask to a table, scanned the QR code provided, opened up the menu of refreshments and placed your order – all from your iphone. I phoned my father who said he was glad he couldn’t travel during these complicated times! No more buffets and self-service stations.

Once again, my N95 masks were worn throughout the 8hour flight, PPP packs were duly applied to hands and all surfaces around me. Once again no trays of food were served at all except for packets of pretzels and biscuits and just before landing, a warm sandwich roll served in a box. This was encouraging as no-one had to remain without their masks for long. I was a good distance away from my fellow passengers and I did not move around the cabin to minimize the risk of transmission of infected droplets. The airflow in the cabin seemed good and the air purifying systems are meant to capture 99% of all airborne microbes.

in JFK I handed in my mandatory self-certified health form with my contact details and seat number and stating I had no fever or cough or any other symptoms.  I had my temperature taken and given a form advising me to stay home and monitor my health over the next 14 days. Hopefully I will not be at the receiving end of a contact tracing call! By comparison, In Australia, my brother was not even allowed back to his home on his return from the UK. The Australian government put him in a very high-standard hotel overlooking Sydney harbor and kept him under lock and key with three meals a day delivered to his door. My sisters who returned to British Columbia, Canada were served “Quarantine orders”, asked about their housing conditions and ability to self-isolate and told not even to cook for anyone in their household. The fine for breaking quarantine could be as much as 1 million dollars or imprisonment. That’s how strict some governments are about international travel.

Overall, these past weeks were an experience of the “new normal” alongside fears and anxiety, grief and joy, laughter and tears and sheer enjoyment at being back home with loved ones and returning back home to more loved ones. And I experienced a full circle of life. I lost a very close family member and gained another in a short space of time.  If there ever were a better reason for essential travel, this was it.

World Cup Brazil 2014

The whole world is here and the Brazilians are happy and proud. They are going out of their way to be helpful, caring and accommodating. Their team is a source of national pride and they are flaunting it. Not without some cares though. They are quick to criticize the “selecao” where necessary. Their goalless match against Mexico brought sighs and the penalty shoot-out against Chile was almost more than they could bear. Today as they face their semi-final against the daunting Germans, they are almost apoplectic with grief at the loss of their star player, Neymar, and their captain, Thiago Silva, but somehow this may smooth over the inevitable doom they feel they may be facing in a few hours. I still think they can pull it off though with the vociferously loyal crowds behind them and a sense of worth that goes beyond simple talents. There is even one inside joke they all like to share about a particular player, known simply as Fred. “Fred has the best job, doesn’t have to do much and yet gets the best view of the match from the pitch itself”. He is the token player, the butt of many jokes. How does he still remain in the squad?

 

 Brazil is surprisingly organized at this world cup. To read the reports emanating from this troubled country before the championship you would have wanted to stay away or at least come prepared for some disaster, small or otherwise. Our experience has been fairly hassle-free. The airports have shown efficient services and the literature handed out to tourists has everything you need to get to the stadiums and know what to do. No terrible translations here to pick fun at although you can still get a few laughs at restaurant menus. And, besides the fact that some planes do not take off during a world cup match featuring the home country, everything is running like clockwork. The trains or metros to the stadiums are jam-packed, of course, but the crowds are made to feel safe as they make their way to the games. Lines of military police looking fearsome but friendly ensure your iPhone doesn’t get snatched from your hands nor your pockets picked. Their sheer presence serves as an adequate deterrent.

The peculiarities of the country are endearing. The taxi drivers watch their small screen TVs on the dashboard of their cars during Brazil matches and you fear for your life as their attention swerves from the road.

 

In their desire to sound helpful you have to take everything they answer to you with a pinch of salt and get a second opinion. This applies to any kind of information handed out. Always ask a few Brazilians before heeding their advice and although the response will never be the same just pick the most believable and hope for the best.

The banks look like clinics or ER waiting rooms. People stand in line in front of ATMS as only one of them is actually operational and most people spend hours in front of one machine to pay all their bills. If you need personal help then there is the chair-wait for a teller to become available.

No-one has change. In the shops just be prepared to round it up to the nearest real or carry several coins in your pocket.

Most of all, be very patient. Service comes with a smile but also slowness.

Your food order may not reach the kitchen in chronological order and there is absolutely no apology for your hour wait but at least the restaurant has a TV screen, great ambiance and the caipirinhas are flowing!

 

Cycling in the City

I signed up for annual membership to Mayor Bloomberg's bike-sharing initiative in a blink of an eye. After all, I had already test-driven the communal cycles around Paris, London and even Tel Aviv, so the arrival of New York City bikes was long awaited. The choice of sponsor and name could not be more fitting. Chasebike or People's Bike just would not have had the same ring.

Apparently it was not all plain cycling for Mike's Bikes though as many inhabitants complained that:

A) the streets were too congested and in bad shape
B) they did not want bike stations on their doorsteps
C) the project was far too costly. 

Two months into my membership, I certainly agree with reason A.  Reasons B and C must be preventing their presence on the Upper East Side, hence taking away my resolution to cycle to work each day.

First things first; the App is downloaded on my trusty iPhone complete with maps, station locations and bike availability. So now, kitted out with my new blue helmet and blue key I take my first non-pedestrian peddle on Fifth Avenue. Huge fun! People pointed and stared - you could say enviously - at us. These shiny new blue bikes were causing a storm of interest. Car and taxi drivers would talk to us at traffic lights "What are the bikes like?" "How do you get these?", " Watch out! So dangerous!".

The ease of taking out and returning the bikes and the speed in which you can get around the city on these two wheels are real highlights. I was soon cycling like a Chinese delivery boy, weaving in and out of traffic like a pro. I would scare the daylights out of my husband, cycling behind, as he continued to negotiate the streets like he was driving his SUV.

The truth is, I can't and never will cycle like a delivery boy, or like any other NYC bike owner. They are a different breed here than anywhere else I have seen. As a pedestrian, car driver and now cyclist, I am appalled by the lack of  respect for road safety from fellow cyclists. They seem to peddle their wheels with this sense of invulnerability, throwing all caution to the wind. You see these "Hit-me- if-you-Dare" cyclists speeding past red lights, going the opposite direction to traffic on one-way streets and Avenues, taking the center lanes and criss-crossing at their peril causing drivers and pedestrians to check their pulse rates.

Why, of why, do they not receive the same policing as anyone else on the roads? After all they are putting other peoples' lives at risk just as much as any driver.  So there, I said it! I got this off my chest before I unlock my next bike and remember to stop at traffic lights, keep to the direction of the traffic and obey all traffic safety rules.  OK, except for one misdemeanor - we were ashamedly chastised for posing for this photo in front of the Rockefeller Center. Seems I forgot that rule to stay off the pavement (sidewalks) although they seem safer to me than those roads!

"Sandy" on the "Shore"

"Sandy" was no "Nargis"

From historic sport (my last blog) to historic storm, last night I found myself in the path of a Category 1 hurricane. For many people all over the world this is not such a rare occurence unfortunately, but for me, I would like to think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Embarrassingly enough, we actually could follow one of the spoofed "Romney Storm Tips" and so took shelter in the "second home" away from the trees and seas of Connecticut. New York City had been getting storm-proofed for days and Mayor Bloomberg, reassuringly as always, was putting in place stringent and cautious warnings, evacuations and closures.

On the morning of October 29th,  the city was already starting to look like a ghost town. Shops and businesses, except for some Chinese restaurants, were barricading themselves up. The grocery stores, where the shelves were now emptied of water, batteries, torchlights, milk and bread, were still groaning with queues of desperate shoppers. No bottled water? No problem, thought I, in Marie-Antoinette fashion, "Let them drink wine!" And so it was that my final shop included 6 bottles of lager and 4 bottles of Chardonnay and Cotes du Rhone. (Groan, another spoofed "Romney Storm tip"!)

The loud gusts arrived at around 8pm while we were in the middle of movie viewing. Looking out on the river and the 59th Street bridge from the relative safety of a 20-storey apartment building in Midtown Manhattan, the scene looked ominous. Horizontal rainfall, howling winds and shaky storeys made us compelling viewers of all TV news stories emanating from the numerous journalists who were sent to report from the frontline of the eye. Floods, power outages, tree and building damage were the results of this record-breaking storm, affectionately known as Frankenstorm due to its proximity to Halloween and to its unknown extent.

The most heart-warming part of being in this historic, news-breaking situation were the surprising number of messages of concern, solidarity and sympathy from family and friends from all parts of the world. These arrived in phone calls, skype calls, emails, Facebook messages, texts and Tweets. Even Mum and Dad were sleepless in Somerset as they viewed the progress of the storm via the BBC and urged us for news that all was okay. Thank you, we are all safe and well. Of course we cannot say that for all those in New Jersey and surrounding areas who bore the brunt of the damage and for whom this is a living nightmare.

The most chilling part is that having just seen the brilliant and disturbing documentary on Burma, "They Call it Myanmar", the scenes of havoc and destruction caused by Cyclone Nargis in 2008 were fresh in my mind. Nothing can compare to the life-altering experiences of a storm in an under-resourced, mis-managed country such as my birthplace. The two storms could not be more different both in impact and media-coverage, as the gulf between rich and poor ever widens. This tropical storm, Nargis, was the worst natural disaster to hit Burma and caused at least 138,000 fatalities. Without the accountability of a rich democracy in place, true statistics and reporting will never be known.

We, New Yorkers, Americans, American Immigrants and all who were here yesterday, we should continue to count and share our blessings.....it could have been a lot worse.

Olympic Success

Olympic Success!

Just returned from one of the most exciting weeks spent in my hometown, London, proud host city to the Summer Olympics. Having always been a big sports fan and patriotic to the Union Jack flag, the combination of colourful, euphoric flag waving and world class sports was like a dream to me.

Fistly, our arrival at Heathrow on Day 4 of the Games was such a pleasant and fast experience which was totally unexpected. At first, I was worried that the Games had been cancelled or that maybe it was like throwing a great big party where no-one showed up! London seemed ominously quiet, where the polite, pink and purple-clad volunteers seemed to outnumber us visitors. When I asked "where is everyone?" I got the reply "we put on extra staff and extra transport everywhere. After these next two weeks everything will go back to its normal chaos!" Yeah, this is the best time to visit London, folks!

First we had tickets for Centre Court, Wimbledon where we got to see Andy Murray and Serena Williams in their third round games. Both later went on to win Gold Medals for their countries. I was glad to see that The Pimms No 1 Cup and strawberries and cream tradition were upheld at this hallowed venue alongside the McDonalds stands. Bumped into Roger Federer on his way to Court 18 which was like another dream....

Then onto the Olympic Park to see Basketball and climb the latest London attraction, The Orbit. Now here we encountered some crowds - all packed in civilised fashion into one superb area of stadiums, food stands, arenas, shops, bridges and walkways.  But we had the Orbit virtually to ourselves and enjoyed the views from the mirrors and the observatory and got to walk down the spiral 431 metal stairs all on our own.

It was great to be amongst the home supporters at Greenwich Park (pictured above) to see Gold brought home by TEAM GB! We thought the stands would collapse under the weight of the cheers and cries of glory. Singing along to "God Save the Queen" at the Victory Ceremony, another huge highlight!

I was delighted to share this amazing Olympic experience with my loving, patient husband, who had to put up with my giggles and screeches of excitement and nostalgia every few minutes, and my two gorgeous daughters and their boyfriends who were equally enthralled with the euphoria of Team GB and the Olympic hype of their city. LONDON, WELL DONE! Very proud of the British nation at this moment and feeling very privileged to have been brought up here.

Face Time - don't waste time!

I am convinced that the world is made up of two different types of people ; those with iPhones and those without.

I have recently crossed over to the other side and belong to that first group of absorbed screen strokers and wi-fi seekers. My iPhone provides me with hours of instructional fun. I am engrossed in this pocket cyber world.  I engage in “Cool App Speak” with other iPhone users.  For those of you without iPhones I will try not to sound too condescending when explaining the powers of this modern piece of equipment that is so much more than just a phone.

Firstly, if you know another iPhone 4 user, you can call them over a wi-fi network and they appear in your hand!  I recall the series of Thunderbirds that I used to watch as a child.  The Tracy family could contact their father through their portraits on the wall. Their eyes would flash and then they would come through in person, live, to talk about their adventures with their dad! I knew this would happen one day! With the iPhone, you must remember that you appear to them too in whatever state you may be which is why when my daughter wanted to introduce me to her new boyfriend in London and “Face-timed” me I had to decline the call as I was sitting in a hair salon with foil strips hanging unattractively around my face. Not a good moment for the boyfriend to “face” the new girlfriend’s mum! But how incredible to have that technology that transcends intercontinental borders and enables you to see your loved ones so far away and yet in front of you!

Then you press another button and you can take incredible photos and videos at any time and then press another few buttons and send them out to the universe via social networks like Facebook and Twitter. You are a little in danger of becoming a social pest with the array of photos you tend to find interesting and then inflict on all kinds of people at any given time but it will still provide you with immense pleasure on a purely selfish level.

So I have phone, photos and now also phonograph - My iPhone has stored 350 of my favourite songs so I can play them through my headphones, car stereo and travel speakers.

But the best part, and this is where you get separated from the crowd, is that it’s all about APPS!  These applications are a wide range of highly developed, specialized computer programs that help us to think, play and do so many interesting things on iPhones and iPads. On my iPhone, I can locate a restaurant, the moon and stars, tune my guitar, name a song, convert currency,  as well as play all kinds of games and inform myself of the best wines to buy on any occasion.  The list goes on. Whatever your hobby, your interest or your need for information, there is an App for it!


I didn’t want to sound like an advert but more a convert to this incredible, highly portable piece of technology. A highlight was that on my return to New York from London Heathrow I was given the option by my airline to either print my boarding pass on online check-in or download it on my phone.  Not hard to guess which I chose to do! Armed with my iPhone I go straight to the gates and at  security I hand it to the officer much to the bemusement of fellow passengers behind me.  Even the officer seemed surprised when his scanner read the barcode on my screen and confirmed my name and flight number. “Congratulations! This is the first time I have done this and it works!” he said to me as he handed me back my treasured accessory.  How cool is that!

A Summer Review

For those of you who do not live in the US, this statement may be revelatory - Summer here officially lasts from Memorial Day (last Monday in May) to Labor Day (first Monday in September). These three months of promised sunshine, long light days, balmy evenings, alfresco dining and quieter living usually pass by at motorway speed. As I sit here in the porch feeling the first autumnal shivers, I want to remember all those glorious sunshine moments of this past summer, and in order to help my memory bank I will do this in bullet form.

Highlights of my summer 2010:

- World Cup Soccer from South Africa (despite the early departure of the England football team which brought a deep chagrin to this devoted fan).

- Enjoying a day trip to Mystic Seaport on the 4th July with the family, and learning about the whaling and fishing community of bygone days. The tall ships and houses of the nineteenth century village was enlivened by a costumed and musical parade in all its patriotic glory. On visiting one of the old, traditional village houses and seeing a lack of toys and embellishments, Carolina, 4,  asks pityingly "Were they poor?"

- Drinking delicious Chateau Minuty rosé wine on the Cote d'Azur and in Provence accompanied by fresh fish and salads and fruits.

- Driving through the scintillatingly scenic roads of the South of France in a comfortable convertible with my husband, wind in our hair and Joe Dassin in our ears.

- Opera in Aix-en-Provence and enjoying Mozart's Don Giovanni under a starlit sky in a 18th century courtyard on 14th July, Bastille Day.

- Residing "chez un ami", Elias, in his magnificent home in St Rémy filled with lavender fields, olive and fig trees, stone walls; truly a home of traditional opulence and taste - a provençal Versailles! More importantly, the hospitality within the home exuded warmth and welcome in abundance. 

- Visiting the new Musee des Lettres et Manuscrits in Paris and reading letters from Proust to his mother and his friends, seeing the original encyclopediae of Diderot and digesting the beauty and expressions of the French language

- Weekends in Westport spent by the pool, dancing and swimming to Mamma Mia music, entertaining the family with alfresco barbecue dining and beach and bookstore visits. Lots of family fun with Marcello, Flavia, Nathan and Carolina and then also Claudia and Amir with Ella and Maya.

- My first trip to Brooklyn, eating oysters in Sheepshead Bay and pancakes on Brighton Beach, courtesy of my friends, Anjali and Satish.

- Visiting our friend, Danielle's new home on the lake in Watermill in the Hamptons and taking a kayak through the water-lilly pads and reeds while listening to the silence and peace of the water. Reading Moby Dick on my new iPhone on the banks of the lake and later playing guitar to an appreciative audience.

- A birthday cocktail party (mine) held in a newly opened New York City rooftop bar with many friends I admire and cherish who all made the effort to attend. Plus a surprise visit by my nephew and wife, on their way to Casablanca and two cousins from Australia and Canada.  A Soirée to Remember!

- Meeting my daughter, Karen's new beau, Anthony, and seeing her smiling from ear to ear, happily in love. Loving the fact he is a doctor and an Emergency doctor at that! Celebrating our meeting with champagne in Kettners, London. A good summer for Karen who, after working on Nigella Lawson's new cookery program, is flush with domestic skills and tips.

- Meeting my daughter, Stephanie's cute boyfriend, Max, a fellow student who plays the guitar, golf and oozes charm and politesse.

- Revisiting the place we grew up in London with all my brothers and sisters (bar one), with many of our offspring who looked on with great amusement as we stepped back into our childhood.

- Celebrating the 60th Diamond Wedding Anniversary of my parents in Somerset with all ten brothers and sisters, twenty (out of twenty five) grandchildren and four great grandchildren. Plus seeing again many of our close relatives and friends who we adore and have grown up alongside.

All the emotions of these reunions, family events and interactions and then the tearful goodbyes brought the summer to an exhausting end. Like the sun, we felt the warm rays of every moment, person and experience. The indulgence of this summer, enjoying the fruits of labour and love, is over and as I reminisce, I know I must face the next season with equal optimism, meticulous planning and overcome my regret that summer is over.