Quarantine Day 32. Reality sets in.

We've got a window that opens 10 cms! It's the simple things. It was one of the complaints of the first quarantinees in Oz when they arrived to incarceration with no opening windows. I thought they were whingeing, I realise how important it is. I awoke excited for how I could make this hotel stay an interesting experiment. Food is delivered with a knock and a bag outside the door. Cold omelette and bacon served with a spoon. Pretended I was having a picnic.

Still in my nightie, braless, the alarm went off telling us to make our way out of the building. Rushed to find bra and wonder whether I had time to dress appropriately but by that time, the alarm was off and the police outside our rooms said it was a mistake. Got dressed anyway, put lipstick on, headed to the gym which is located conveniently 2 metres from the bedroom which was handy. Did workout and decided on the way to my new office to stop off one metre from my desk to do a dance jazzercise routine on Youtube. Hot and sticky, I jogged the rest of the way, stopping off to have a quick coffee in a nice little cafe with city views, only 1 metre from my office. Four packets of Nescafe Blend 43, limited edition granules and some UHT milk later, I was ready for my work day.

Booked in a couple of conference calls with Covid-19 recoverers to find out their status. One having been let out of quarantine, the other still with a cough that is keeping him in even thought he's tested negative. Check in with my girls next door, discovered we can yell to each other out our respective windows but can't see. Having finished said calls, I write my blog and I am behind in my art course, so I try and catch up.

Lunch is delivered, warm pasta, indeterminate sauce and a roll. Decide to go on water fast, not much good on carbs. Dinner is served. Two servings of hot meat lasagna (which I have to send back as I have mammalian protein allergy, doesn't that sound interesting?), 2 rolls and 2 tabs of a desert that tastes meaty and which is unidentifiable. The girls get sent two tiny portions of vegetarian lasagna which I suspect was mine. An hour later, sometime after 9.30, they send up inedible ravioli, hard as rocks. The wine I ordered at lunchtime still hasn't arrived but after a phone call, a bottle turns up at the door. It's liquid and watery so I feel it is in keeping with my water fast; I'll come out of here svelte, fit and toned. The girls are starving but aren't allowed any extra - government regulations.They think of getting Uber Eats but the hotel is not allowed to deliver said items after 7 pm. It is now 10 pm. We decide to call in help from family and friends for tomorrow.

Office and conference centre, dance studio and gym in between.

Self Isolation Day 31. Life on the Inside.

Sydney welcomed us with airport staff, border control, nurses, police and army officials. Most of them had a smile for us, all were gloved and masked. The girls were worried their temperatures might be up as they were so nervous, they were sweating. Temperatures were perfect, we were moved onto the next station, border control; our bags we treated as if heavily contaminated. Next we were ushered through to the police contingent who told us to wait at the proper distance and slowly we were told to go through to the bus. One unmasked lovely police woman smiled at us every time she walked past. It made you feel human. I smiled back through our masks and I wondered how much a smile found it's way to your eyes, I did the thumbs up just in case it didn't. On the bus, we were separated and single, my main concern dispelled but there was a long wait and the aircon was freezing so by the time we set off to the hotel, I badly wanted to pee. We were dropped at a hotel in the city, not Penrith (it was on the list with bad reports). We were the first on the bus but last off and the wait seemed endless as they let us off one by one. I had to pee. The lobby was full of police and army reserve. How many does it need to get us to a hotel room? I had to pee. Line up for another policewoman to take down details. Endless questions, almost finished, I could see the toilet but no, she lost all my data. We started again. I really had to pee. Finished but then it all began again registering at the hotel. I had to pee! Finally, finally finished. Army guys escorted me to the lift with my bag and then off I went to the 10th floor. I had to pee. A policemen said I shouldn't have come alone. I think at that point I had re-absorbed! More waiting while they contacted the army guys so had to wait until they arrived and escorted me to my door. That's where your taxpayers money is going folks. I peed.

And then I took in my surroundings. Tenth floor views over Kings Cross, big room and a spa. Better than anything I could afford overseas, no complaints. Waited for dinner to arrive, it was nine. After telling them I was highly allergic to red meat, of course I got bolognaise but at ten, they sent me up grilled chicken and salad. I was impressed. So far, so good. I have a stuffy nose but that is probably from the aircon on the plane (note my positive thinking), I can taste and smell, so all good. Bit of a cough but as soon as I start thinking of the virus, the cough arrives. Surprisingly the girls get placed next door to me, not that we can see each other but it's comforting. Food is delivered outside the door, we are not allowed to step outside our door except to collect our food. A policeman is watching at all times. Welcome to life on the inside.

Self Isolation Day 30. Empty Spaces.

It's like an end of the world scenario. It's a scene from a pandemic movie. On the train to the airport there is four of us. We walk through the empty halls of Charles de Gaulle, everything is closed. Five of us wait for the plane, there were eight people booked but three don't turn up. We are treated like royalty on the plane with an attendant each. I talk to one of the girls and ask her if she's scared. She is young, beautiful and philosophical. 'What will be will be.' she says. It's true but I rebel and action my corona virus kit. I disinfect the tv controls, seat, arms of the chairs, my mask. I have been patted down at the airport so worry about my clothes so I spray them. In my mind I ridiculously think of the virus being like sperm; you know how your parents relayed to you about the super powers of the sperm that can make their determined way through anything to the desired location? I have to stop this way of thinking. I start to read my book.

I am reading a bestseller, Untamed by Glennon Doyle. I am totally captured by this woman's fragility, courage and her sassy words. I am hoping that two weeks in solitary confinement will allow me to practice what she preaches. An excerpt -' Grief is a cocoon from which we emerge new.' This is what has been slowly happening to me over the last year and it resonates within all my cells. And being confined has also brought out parts of me that had gone into hiding from my personal war of grief and circumstances in life. I stop thinking about the sneakiness of the virus for a while and think about the future of me.

We stop at Doha, a huge empty space again, an odd figure here and there and us. On the next leg home to Sydney there are 23 on the plane. It is eerie, surreal and so quiet.