Roaming in the Wild: Lessons from a Journey in the Post-Covid World

As soon as I exited the secure area of London City Airport on February 26, the pandemic culture shock was immediate. I was thrust suddenly into a world where the maskless outnumbered the masked. Hong Kong is rare if not unique in the world in requiring masks most everywhere including outdoors except when you are at home, in your office (unless your workplace requires it), or in a restaurant or bar (for obvious reasons – though you need to put on the mouth-and-nose cover to go to the toilet or fill your plate at the buffet table).

My first flight out of Hong Kong in two years and three weeks – a short hop to Bangkok – had been an all-masked experience, as were the much-longer segment to Zurich (masks required even while sleeping) and the final bit to the UK. But once outside the airport and inside the ticket lobby of the Docklands Light Railway (DLR), I knew I was not in my pandemic “Kansas” anymore. Even though there were tannoy announcements and signs advising people to wear a mask, there were clearly many more not doing so than were abiding by the instruction.

As far as I know, I have yet to get Covid. My anxiety about the cat-and-mouse game with the coronavirus has certainly diminished, though in Hong Kong most people who are fully vaccinated (I have had four doses) seem to worry less about getting the coronavirus and more about being whisked away to mandated quarantine or getting advised that you have been in close contact with a case and therefore need to isolate.

What did I learn from my days of being wild and maskless (outdoors)? 

Early on in my escape, I sought isolation in nature – and I do mean isolation. After a couple of days in Oxford, a university town experiencing Covid clusters among students, I headed for the edge of southwestern Wales and the Pembrokeshire coast, where one can hike along cliff-edging trails and meadows, and go hours without seeing anyone or even any livestock.

That was when I gave in to what I would confess to be irrational exuberance. The face covering was off – the bracing wind, drizzle and lingering winter chill were not going to stifle my private joy while meandering maskless around some of the most beautiful countryside in Britain. With each blessed step in the dirt and mud along the trails, I was content and at peace, mindful that at that time, the mask mandate in Hong Kong was in force even if you were doing vigorous exercise outdoors. After a year of tensions due to the street protests in Hong Kong and then the two years of the pandemic and with restlessness from being grounded at my limit (I had not been in one place for so long since I was five years old), it was pleasing just to be in that quiet place alone. Solitude has its rewards.

Man shall not live on Zoom alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of a friend, colleague or fellow traveler. I much preferred to have a meeting outside people’s offices in a café or restaurant because then the masks could come off and conversations could be conducted with unmuffled voices at normal volume. I understood why I have yet to come across any student or teacher who has found online education pleasing or satisfying. The work that I do does lend itself to isolation or heavy screen time, but after over two years of distanced discussion and debate, it was a revelation to be face to face again.

Indeed, after two years with my parking brake on, I will admit that I was too swept up by my eagerness to work out the travel bug. The joys of the journey were ample and welcome, whether walking along the banks of the Thames or crossing a bridge over Venice’s Grand Canal at midnight (to avoid the crowds), venturing to St Davids on the southwestern tip of Wales or climbing to the top of the bell tower of the Duomo in Florence, staying put in a cozy bed-and-breakfast (to avoid a packed hotel) or following a relaxed figure-of-eight itinerary around Europe on speedy trains. “It’s all about the journey”, the saying goes. But eventually the Eurail pass will expire and the budget tightens, and the catchups get done. You will have to arrive somewhere – and at that destination, Covid will surely be waiting. There will be another wave. But life must go on.