To Travel, or Not to Travel

That is everyone’s question.

The decision to travel in Covid-times is not a simple one. Do you postpone doing anything or going anywhere until next summer? Or the summer after? Or the summer after that? Or do you proceed with caution in what could be the new normal for quite sometime.

Weighing risks vs benefits was it’s own skittish journey that fluctuated with the daily news. On one of those days when the news seemed more positive (relatively) that things were opening up, and restrictions were being lifted, I chose to keep plans to travel with the kids to Colorado to see friends, and celebrate my father-in-law’s 76th, and my dad’s 86th birthdays.

And, we had to fly because to road trip it would be a 3,300 mile road trip from Alaska to Boulder one way. Alaska is as remote as it sounds, and our town that much more so. There is one highway to and from the Kenai Peninsula, and now just one airline left (the main airline we used to use to get to Anchorage International Airport just filed for bankruptcy).

It’s no wonder many residents not only own a boat, but a plane. In another post I mentioned envying our neighbors quarantine life. Well, I forgot to mention many of them also own a little plane making the boundaries of where they self-isolate almost limitless. And likely, stunningly beautiful.

I didn’t really want to write another post that was covid related. The subject is exhausting us all. But, on my 5-hour flight back to Anchorage from Denver I couldn’t help it. When you’re on a plane these days, it’s practically the only thing you think about.

So, I thought I’d go ahead and offer advice on flying in these virus times. Aside from a mask, and all the obvious.

4 Suggestions:

One: Pack Food or Eat Before Your Flight

In the third row of first class sits a family, a mom, dad, and a baby on mom’s lap. From the bulkhead seat one cabin back, I can only see the dad, and I am watching him as he pours a mini bottle of Jack Daniels into his Coke, and munches on a wedge of artisanal cheese.

I wonder if he can sense someone watching him. From above my mask my eyes are locked on what I have decided is the ultimate feast.

A flight attendant heads down the aisle and I stop her.

“Is there any chance there are any extra snack boxes?” I ask, “like, for purchase?”

Like in the old days.

“No,” she looks at me like I’m nuts, “not back here.”

I’ve made her realize something and in a subsequent and clearly necessary move, she unhooks the curtain that separates our two cabins and closes it.

The curtain is sheer, it softens the vision of the world beyond my grasp but only a little. Actually, I decide it is not so much a curtain but a veil. The veil of seduction…

Next to me, my daughter Tatum, who was trying to sleep, opens her eyes.

“No, not back here!” she mimics, a little too loudly, before shutting her eyes again.

The flight attendant’s move reminds me of the first time I ever saw or heard of Jerry Seinfeld. He was doing stand up on TV, oh so many years ago, and there was a bit in his act about a flight attendant shutting the curtain to close off first class, but not before first staring down everyone in second with a look that said, “maybe if you all had worked a little harder…”

I wish we had worked harder, because I’m hungry.

At the time of this post, due to Covid, boxed food and alcohol is no longer available in economy and economy plus. At least on Alaska Airlines and United.

My first knee-jerk reaction to this was that it might be a bit of  “Covid Theater.” Some of these “it’s to keep you safe” rules seem a little curious. To me, at least. For example, when I got a haircut at the salon I used to frequent, as I’m manhandling the credit card machine and exchanging paper receipts, I’m told we can no longer add the tip onto the credit card. They want to keep everyone safe, so now the salon only allows cash tips to be handed by patron to the stylist to minimize physical interactions.

Or there was the restaurant I went to, an old favorite of mine, that currently won’t make certain cocktails.

“I’m sorry,” the waitress says when I ask for a (skinny version) margarita, “we don’t make margaritas anymore because, you know…”

I stare at her blankly.

“…it’s too much touching, and Covid…”

I look down at my huge chopped salad which has no fewer than 12 ingredients.

“But we can do other drinks, like a rum and coke.”

“Could I have a tequila and club soda?” I ask.

“Of course!”

“With a few wedges of lime?”

“No problem!”

“Oh, and Miss?”

“Yes?”

“Could I have a shot of Grand Marnier on the side?”

“You got it!”

So, that was my first thought – why is it safe for passengers in first class to nibble on a cracker for the duration of a 5 hour flight, mask-free? But not safe for economy passengers?

Here is where I do a U-Turn though. Serving people in economy may be too many masks off. And my guess is the exchange of credit cards could be the bigger issue. I don’t know, but for the first time I’m trying to defend Alaska Airlines and United. We can’t afford to lose another airline.

I finally find in the side pocket of my bag a zip lock with six almonds left, and I’m giddy. As I savor them one by one, I see through the curtain/veil that the dad is out of his seat. He turns and heads towards the back of the plane, which peaks my curiosity.

Why would he leave first class?

He steps around the curtain and opens the lavatory door directly across from my seat.

Why would he choose to use the lavatory in the economy cabin?

I smell the answer. In his hand is a diaper that, judging by the smell and heft of it, probably should have been changed 45 minutes ago.

He shoves the diaper into the bathroom’s small trash, and this time he must surely feel my eyes on him, because he looks sheepish as he scurries back to his seat in first class. A flight attendant appears with another mini bottle of Jack Daniels for him. It’s perfect timing.

I wonder what would George Costanza on “Seinfeld” would do in my situation? He’d feel compelled to say something for sure, and I wish I could watch it.

Two: Invest in a hand-extending Shark pincher.

Along with packing your own food for a long flight, I’d advise packing this hand-extension pincher.

It doesn’t have to be a shark, there are other animals to choose from like a dinosaur. But whatever you choose, keep it handy.

On the other side of Tatum, the passenger in the window seat was a man who slept most of the 5 hour flight, but without his mask covering his nose. Either it had fallen, or he had pulled it down. It just hung by his mouth.

If I had had this shark pincher I could have used it to delicately pull the man’s mask back up over his nose without waking him. Hopefully. Or else it could get awkward.

Three: Be Prepared to Have Weird Dreams

Is this a weird thing to even mention?

Even though at the airport you wore the mask and reapplied sanitizer every step of the way, there is still an unsettled feeling that might linger for the length of your visit. Or, at least it did mine. Maybe it stems from being untethered from quarantine base.

Due to the age and health of my parents, we didn’t stay at the house I grew up in. Instead, we stayed at a brand new Residence Inn by Marriott in Boulder. It added another level of strangeness. The upside is that it was interesting living like a tourist in my own hometown. I even started doing more “touristy” things like hiking trails I never thought to hike in all the years I was a local.

With my kids spending most nights over at their friends’ homes, I was often sleeping alone in an almost totally vacant hotel. And on those nights my dreams were especially eerie and vivid. Apparently, I’m not the only one having such dreams. It’s a thing.

https://www.futurity.org/dreams-covid-19-pandemic-2371132/

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/13/style/why-weird-dreams-coronavirus.html

According to one scientist, since the virus is an invisible threat, people are dreaming about it using wild metaphors. The virus could take the form of a swarm of bees, or an approaching dust storm, or in my case, an attacking bear. Or, I could just be having my usual dream about an attacking bear.

Four: Know the State Regulations for Travelers

Alaska has a very low level of Covid-Positive cases compared to other states. It was easy leaving, but re-entering was another matter. Like Hawaii, where they are not afraid to jail tourists for wandering onto the beach unless cleared, Alaska is strict. There would be hoops we’d need to jump through before returning to Alaska, those hoops being covid tests.

Test 1:

Prior to flight,  we went through a drive through covid testing place in Colorado. It was on the top floor of a hospital parking garage.

Several health care workers surrounded our car, and we each had a stick inserted so far up into each nostril that it must have been sampling brain matter.

I also have a video of the process.

Tests 2:

At the airport in Anchorage days later, it was a similar test, but this one was self-administered, and, more importantly it was pain-free.

I asked if this was as accurate as the first one we had in Colorado. The one that left scars on my frontal cortex surely had to be more accurate, right?  I was told it was just as accurate, and it is the new test that they are using more frequently. So that’s some good news, especially if more airports/borders adopt this testing and it becomes part of travel for the interim…

End Note:

A big highlight of our trip was my dad’s 86th birthday celebration. I had requested of my niece/goddaughter to avoid any depressing topics (unlike me). But, stubbornness runs in our family.

Here she is lecturing grandpa on the finer nuances of Covid’s influence on the political landscape.