It was teatime in London, where I was attending an advanced blogging workshop. A pot of darjeeling and a slice of raspberry-almond cake were awaiting my attention, when my phone pinged with an unexpected and unwelcome message. It was from Britain’s National Health Service (NHS), alerting me that I’d been exposed to Covid. What?!! I am fully vaccinated, and I had been tested twice in the previous five days, once before I left the US and once upon arriving in the UK three days ago (both negative). But, apparently, someone on my flight had tested positive, so all their fellow travelers were being warned and asked (i.e., required) to self-isolate for another week.

Testing and more testing

When I told the other workshop participants about the message, they kindly agreed to let me stay long enough that afternoon to present my site to the group, before leaving to get a Covid test. After all, they’d been with me all day, so the damage, if any, was likely already done. Plus, we were all vaccinated. If my test was negative, I could come back the next day. There was a testing site right down the block, and in short order I had my result: negative.

Though the NHS continued diligently to message me throughout the rest of the day, I couldn’t reach a live human that afternoon to request an exemption from the quarantine order. I therefore decided, reluctantly and regretfully, not to use my theatre ticket that Saturday night and instead to stay in my AirBnB room. On Sunday morning, I finally had a phone conversation with someone from the NHS. I explained my circumstances (fully vaccinated, thrice-tested that week), and she agreed that I didn’t need to hole up in a hotel but that I did need to get a PCR test. (I had gotten the quicker, but less precise, antigen test the night before.) Happily, I wasn’t required to self-isolate while waiting for the new results.

I tracked down a site that was both open on a Sunday morning and within walking distance of my AirBnB. There I got my fourth Covid test in less than a week and then headed to my workshop. The results came back late that night: negative. This was a relief, because I had plans for my last few days in the UK: I was heading out to Oxford.

The other thing about traveling internationally during a pandemic is that the timing of tests can be complicated. The general rule-of-thumb seems to be that you must take a PCR test within 72 hours of your departure time. So if your flight leaves at 3 p.m. on a Tuesday, you must be tested no earlier than 3 p.m. the preceding Saturday. Which seems simple enough, until you throw in the fact that most testing sites will not guarantee a turnaround time of less than 72 hours, so you need to find a site that does rapid-results PCR testing (and pay more for their haste), in order to be certain to have your results when you need them.

ASIDE: On our August trip to Africa, we flew out of San Francisco, changed planes in Newark, and then had a 12-hour layover in Johannesburg before catching our last flight to Botswana. When we finally got to the gate for our 6 a.m. departure (having passed a remarkably uncomfortable night trying to sleep on benches in an airport lounge, while safety announcements blared every few minutes through the wee hours — we’re too old for this, Craig and I agreed), the agent told us our test results were now out of date and we would have to take another Covid test — and purchase new airline tickets — before we could complete our trip. To top it all off, once we finally reached Botswana, the first thing they did was to test us for Covid!  

I was leaving for the UK from Boston but spending a couple of days in Albany, New York, before returning to Boston the night before my flight. This meant that there wasn’t enough time to be tested in Boston, so I needed to get a Covid test in Albany. And that necessitated searching out a rapid-results testing site ahead of time, so I didn’t have to scramble. Happily, this turned out to be a simple matter: a drugstore near my AirBnB offered no-appointment testing. I waited in line that Monday morning, paid my $120, and got my results back in an hour: negative. Now I was free to go sightseeing!

Braving the bus

Leaving the UK presented similar logistical challenges, because I was traveling back to London from Oxford the night before my flight. I did find a testing site northeast of Oxford, but I still had to get myself out there. Not wanting to cut into my tourist time, I had scheduled my test for 8:30 a.m. and planned to take an Uber out to the Barton Park Primary School, where a temporary testing site had been set up. But that morning, no Uber rides or even conventional taxis were available — at least, so said my app. What to do? I could walk twenty minutes to the train station, where taxis would probably have been waiting. But instead I decided to brave the bus.

I admit it: I have a bit of a bus phobia. But before you judge me, consider this: a bus is all very well, if you already know where you are and where you’re going. But if you are riding a bus in an unfamiliar place, it can be hard to figure out where you are and where to get off. If you don’t recognize any landmarks, how do you know when to ring the bell for a stop — which you have to do in advance? And if you get off at the wrong stop, how then do you figure out where you are and where you need to go? In the US, I have sometimes found bus drivers to be less than helpful; in a country where I don’t even speak the language… Well, you see the problem. (Not, of course, that language was a problem in England, but you take my point.)

Of course, as you’ve doubtless already realized, these anxieties pre-date Google maps and navigation. I, being generally bus-avoidant, had never given it any thought, but Google is a game-changer for bus-riders, as well as for drivers. Duh. When I searched for transit directions to my test site, I not only learned which bus to catch and where, but Google also presented me with a map of all the bus stops along my route, so I could track my progress the whole way. What’s more, I was in Oxford, where the double-decker buses are clean, the electronic signage excellent, the stops named and numbered, and the drivers helpful  (all “facts” based on a sample of one!).

To travel or not to travel?

Since my return, people have been asking about my trip and, most especially, about what it was like traveling under pandemic conditions. On international flights, I tell them, I felt confident, because I knew everyone on the flight had tested negative for Covid and/or was fully vaccinated. Less so on domestic flights in the US, where there are no such rules — and where all my flights were very full.

In fact, it was shocking to return to the US through Uganda’s Entebbe Airport — where we had to pass through six health/security checkpoints before being allowed to board our flight — to find on arrival in Newark that no one asked us anything about our Covid status. In contrast to the UK and South Africa and Uganda, where every traveler is required to provide their contact information and to complete a lengthy “passenger locator” questionnaire about their planned whereabouts for the first ten days of their stay, the attitude in the US seems positively lackadaisical. (This questionnaire, of course, is how the NHS was able to track me down in London.)

• Read up on the conditions in the countries you’re planning to visit, and consider what sorts of situations you might find yourself in. In Botswana, for example, we were outdoors most of the time and the staff at our lodges were all tested, so although the overall infection rate in the country was high, our risk was relatively low. In London, I knew that everyone at my workshop was fully vaccinated, and in Albany, where I saw a play, everyone had to show proof of vaccination before being allowed to enter the theater.
• Assume that that you might be delayed at some point in your travels due to Covid exposure. And that the delay might cost you — if, say, you are required to quarantine in a hotel room. Happily, many airlines are now allowing you to change your reservations at no charge (though if your new flights are more expensive than your original ones, you will pay the difference).
• Allow some extra time around your flights — especially when crossing international borders — so that you can accommodate disruptions without ruining your trip. For example, I was grateful to have scheduled a couple of transitional days in Maun, Botswana, before we headed out to the Okavango Delta, which meant that our delay in Johannesburg didn’t throw off our whole schedule.
• Plan ahead! Find out what the entry requirements are for each country you’re visiting, and figure out when and where you will need to be tested. Look for testing facilities in advance, so you don’t have a problem locating one — or getting an appointment. And remember that things can “gang agley,” despite your best planning! In Botswana, I had arranged for someone to test us at our hotel, but somehow our appointment fell through the cracks. Only after numerous phone calls did the testing team finally show up (more than two hours late and having first gone to the wrong hotel). Getting the test results before our noon departure the next day required several more anxious phone calls; a courier finally hand-delivered the precious papers a few minutes before our shuttle left. So the process can be stressful, even when you think you’ve got everything set up!
• Expect to be tested often — and to pay for the privilege. Also, check with your healthcare provider: they may offer reimbursement for Covid testing.
• Above all, protect yourself and others: get vaccinated and wear a mask!