Well, I think I echo the majority’s sentiment when I say that 2020 isn’t shaping up to be the year we hoped it would be. There are new working-from-home arrangements to become accustomed to. Exercise regimes are confined to the parameters of our neighbourhoods. Queuing outside your local supermarket for your weekly shop is becoming the norm. The only interaction we can have with anyone outside of our respective bubbles is online or over the phone. It’s unlike anything we’ve experienced in our lifetimes to date, and even having lived under these circumstances for the last month, it’s still challenging to process the reality of our current situation.
I remember sitting at Conch in Ponsonby with my friend Summer after work one evening towards the end of last year. We were a couple of happy hour house reds deep, and as many of us experience at one point or another, we were feeling a little stuck in our current situations. Although content in our lives, I think we were both seeking some form of escape from our everyday routines. And so, we started talking about travel. I had intended to take a few weeks off work in 2020 to attend a friend’s wedding in the U.K., and the more Summer and I talked about it, the more I realised that this could be a prime opportunity to travel for longer than I had originally planned. We very nearly booked one-way flights to London then and there, figuring the rest would be future Summer and Belinda’s problem. Instead, we settled on a safer bet, purchasing relatively inexpensive return flights from Auckland to Queenstown for February. But the wheels were already in motion: London had left a message and was waiting for us to call back. What started as a bit of a fantasy quickly became a “we’re really doing this” and it wasn’t long before we began mapping out our journey. When it comes to travel, everyone needs a friend like Summer. She’s the friend who will happily trawl through travel websites and Airbnb listings for hours because she’s a holiday planning fanatic. Everyone also needs a friend like me, because nine times out of ten, I’m happy with whatever, so long as I have a place to sleep and snacks aplenty. Essentially, we were a pair made in travel heaven. Summer was brilliant at working out where we’d go, how we’d get there, and mustering up ideas of what we’d do, and I was brilliant at agreeing to everything. I’d spend a few weeks in the U.K. venturing around Scotland before attending the wedding, while Summer would be parked up beachside in Malta, no doubt sinking more than a few cocktails in the process. Eventually we’d meet in Budapest, and from there, we’d travel through Croatia, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Montenegro, Albania, Turkey and Greece together. All in all, it was going to be one epic near three-month European adventure. I’ve travelled before, but I’d never really done anything like this. A lot of us contemplate or have done an extensive OE, or have moved to and lived in a different country. Having been on-the-go since undertaking postgraduate study and jumping on a new career path, I felt ready to take a decent break from my ‘real’ life. Don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t nor am I unhappy. I just wanted time to rest, reflect and reinvigorate myself. I was also excited to be able to have endless travel tales to fuel my writing, something I’ve missed being able to do regularly. My day-to-day life was starting to feel pretty humdrum and I was getting itchy feet. Aside from a couple of short trips across the ditch and domestically in recent times, I hadn’t really travelled in the last few years, and when you work in travel, it’s hard not to get caught up in the dream you’re helping to make a reality for others on a daily basis. It’s crazy to think that just over a month ago Summer and I still hoped that we might be traversing Europe together in July. Now we’re faced with the dreaded task of cancelling our dream holiday, undoing countless hours that went into booking, peeling our minds away from where we thought we’d be and what we imagined we’d be doing, and accepting any monetary loss that comes with it. To be frank, it sucks. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t cried a few frustrated tears, reluctantly letting go of what could have been. But of course, we are just two of many whose visions of 2020 have been flipped upside down. We all had ideas of what this year could be, and now, we’re not sure when we’ll see the other side of this, or indeed, how our world will look post-pandemic. Like most of us, I’m just taking it one day at a time. I’m doing my best to be present and reinstate a sense of normality in my everyday life. I’m checking in with my family, friends and colleagues, ensuring I’m proactive about staying connected. Amidst countless hours of overthinking, I’m learning to be a little kinder to myself, trying not to ruminate on the things I can’t control, but rather focusing on the things that I can. I’m paying more attention to my mind and body, taking stock of my thoughts and feelings, and keeping my physical wellbeing in check. I’m finding the balance between spending time doing the things I love and remembering that it’s okay to take a break and just be. When I think about what others have lost and what hardships they will endure in the months if not years to come, I consider myself incredibly lucky. I’m isolated with the three human beings who mean the most to me – there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Each day, I take a moment to reflect on the things that I’m grateful for. Such things are never in short supply. Although we’re not going to Europe, I’m grateful that Summer and I were able to spend a weekend in Melbourne for my birthday, and nearly a week in Queenstown for hers. I’m grateful for the last time I was in the company of friends. I’m grateful for the last meal I had at a restaurant. I’m grateful for my last kiss. I’m grateful to be surrounded by some incredible human beings, including those who I’m currently physically displaced from. I’m grateful for all the places I’ve seen and all the things that I’ve done. I’m grateful to be home. Healthy. Alive. Although, right now, it feels like there’s no end in sight, as a forever optimist, I know things will get better. I know I’ll get to travel again once the dust settles. I know the feelings of uncertainty will slowly but surely dissipate. I know we’ll be reunited with those near and dear to us in time. Until then, I’m trying to live by a motto I learnt while I was on the island of Caye Caulker, just off the coast of Belize, nearly four years ago: “go slow”. It means to embrace a quieter pace of life and take it easy. As someone who is usually rushing around like a mad woman trying to accomplish everything under the sun, it’s an important reminder in times like these. So, be kind to others, be gentle with yourself, and try to enjoy the extra bit of relief that comes with doing things a little more leisurely than usual.
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B is:A 26-year-old tea drinking writer of words trying to find her place in the world.
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April 2020
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