House of Dreams

It needed a significant moment in time to come back to my blog. And here I am. We are born, we live, and then we die. And while there is much to gain and celebrate across those years of living, there is an inevitable end that we will all must face. 

Today we received the conclusive results for Milo's biopsy, and the diagnosis is not good. He has perhaps six weeks of joyful living left. We will make the most of this. 

We are declining on the chemo and radiation option for the results are not guaranteed and statistics point to harm and great discomfort for our little chihuahua. A referral to an internal vet specialist next week will reveal more for this next stage of this pathway, but it will break Thomas and Gina's heart, as it has ours. 

Thousands of miles. Oceans crossed in the dead of night, while the earth sleeps beneath us. We have winged our way home to Sydney, Australia.  In the end our flights held, and we boarded Singapore Airlines from Amsterdam to Singapore to Sydney.  

The relief was indescribable. Against the background of thousands of Australians stranded without recourse of coming home in time for Christmas, we held onto our boarding passes, embarking the flight with a sense of awe. 

We had booked and paid for our flights home earlier in March. Forward planning, in hind sight had made all the difference.  Singapore Airlines, and every other airline was progressively cancelling flights back home, due to flight caps and uncertainty of passenger numbers. Our 350 seater jet had 30 from Amsterdam to Singapore.  And then 20 passengers on the Singapore to Sydney connection. An eerie and strange moment, the impact of the virus patently clear. As I boarded SQ323, I wanted to fold my hands and thank the crew for being there. For supporting us despite the narrow profit margins. For keeping the faith, when our national airline had pulled out months earlier. 

The first leg was 12 hours, and I remained wide eyed and awake throughout. Sleep was impossible. The thought of seeing Thomas fueling the excitement and the sense of coming home. My mind filled with the vision of the moment we walk through our front door and reclaim our Australian life. The final 12 hour flight from Singapore to Sydney, left us with free aisles to stretch and finally sleep came in the small hours. And then. Landing in Sydney and the realisation that 14 days of hotel quarantine stretched out ahead of us, and I came down to earth quickly.  Being met by border control, army personnel, doctors and nurses, and every one in PPE gowns and masks made us realise how Australia has contracted itself to an environment of fear and an inflated sense of danger. To its credit though, local deaths from the virus have remained low compared to other countries, but there's a sense of disbelief as I see the sensational reporting coming out of Queensland for example where two cases make the front pages. How does that help the sense of resilience the community needs to build?  Why does the media whip up this daily frenzied attention? What purpose does it serve?

Vaccination numbers are speeding along in most states, and our state of New South Wales is ramping towards 80% doubly vaccinated, with lock down easing as of October 11.  Our release from hotel quarantine is on Friday 8th October, so the timing is aligned. Thomas is vaccinated with his second dose due in two weeks time. That's a relief, although Thomas' generation don't necessarily see the urgency, holding a level of skepticism on the efficacy and safety of the vaccine. 

As I write, we are in day ten of a 14 day hotel quarantine phase. It's been surprisingly tenable, and perhaps my work in the European time zone is helping keep me sane.  The first five days stretched and felt protracted and slow.  The days after that were easier as we found a routine.  Our hired exercise bike helping with movement and a sense of activity. Tim's company has been a critical boost for sanity, and together we have weathered this well.  I upgraded our room to a suite when we were processed at reception on day one, as I couldn't bear the thought of a cramped space, without open windows or fresh air, and no balcony to speak of.  It's a mental game, we're seeing this as the final extenstion of our European journey.  Recasting the contained experience in that light helps to ease the sense of being caught in a room without escape. Even if I wanted to, border control and army personnel on every floor are here to keep us 'safely' confined to our rooms.  It strikes me as hugely ironic given we are all double vaxxed, testing negative every three days with a full on PCR test, and yet the community outside has over 1000 infections daily.  The lack of logic is placing much pressure on the government to replace hotel quarantine with home quarantine,  but as with all the best laid plans of the Morrison government, the game plan is lacking substance and detail. Much like his leadership.  

Living in the northern hemisphere and even though I curate my incoming news as much as possible, we are drowning in the terrible anguish of those citizens and refugees seeking help from Western nations to lift them out of Kabul. 

The news cycle is bleak, how great the task of rescuing the fleeing Afghans whose future under the Taliban is horrific to consider. I have read so many analytical pieces of reporting on the history of the last 20 years, and then the decades before that, creating the fabric of this tribal nation. It feels complex and the struggle of the Afghan nationals incomparable to anything we have witnessed in our safe and settled Western countries. 

As I witness the desperation of those wanting to escape, and finding solace in the bleakest refugee camps across the world,  I feel deeply ashamed of those Australians who are complaining about their food and accommodation in the quarantine hotels in Brisbane and Sydney. It has humbled my experience here in Europe as we wait for our flight home and knowing we will too soon be in quarantine. We cannot live through the devastating experience of Afghanistan's last days of western occupation, and be blind to the suffering of others.  We are too privileged, too comfortable in all that we consume, and all that we desire. When we see what is unfolding in other countries where suffering and eking out an existence seems a birthright, I cannot  be unmoved and impacted by the scale of what we have, compared to other countries. What actions can we offer to become part of the solution? 

My last post was wretched and fraught with angst. Today, I write with happier sentiment, a sense of excitement and great relief.  We approached Summer in Europe with the intent of enjoying our last warm weather months. We travelled to the stunning Croatian and Montenegro coastlines to dip our toes in blue seas and feel the gentle Mediterranean sun on our limbs. We were content to hope for the best and believed that staying positive about our return to Australia would ensure a kinder experience. So we ate, drank, explored and sunned ourselves till we reached a state of blissful rest. It was only for ten days, but long enough to feel replenished. 

Fast forward, and on the eve of our departure from Croatia about three weeks ago, I found the nerve and rang Singapore Airlines direct to inquire about our flights home to Sydney. And with great relief, the Dutch representative confirmed our flights were all in order and booked to leave September 23 from Schiphol airport. Our joy and excitement was complete, I did a crazy dance in the hotel room and felt the first true confidence that we could return home and with flights that are likely to go through. Last week we received further follow up from the airline regarding travel declarations and PCR requirements etc. All of this was welcome news and felt like further evidence that our flights were miraculously holding up. 

Our apartment in Amsterdam is almost all packed, ten boxes full, 140 kgs to be air freighted door to door, back to Sydney. Two suitcases each for our return flight and then, no trace of us will be left here in this sweet house we've called home for over two years. Our memories though are golden moments, and an experience we'll never forget. As soon as flights resume in good order, perhaps a number of years down the track,  we are already looking forward to returning to this, our second home. Our heart will always be here, along the foreshore, the canals, the bright lights of Amsterdam city, and the lush, green fields outside the city borders.  

I have a friend on Facebook who also writes beautiful prose most mornings. Musing at sunrise. She rises before six each morning. My musings are more languid. The afternoon or early evening type. Cups of green tea interspersed with G&Ts. Mostly likely a biscuit or cheese with a cracker. And the sun against my back rather than in front. 

Today is the 3rd of July, 2021. In Amsterdam the weather is a balmy 23 degrees. With long fingers of afternoon humidity that make me feel slow to move, though my dress lifts with the breeze. It is so light. How different the seasons here in Europe. Will I have to train myself to deflect the harsh sun in Sydney when I return in September? Sun cream 50+, hello my old friend. I've come to slather you again. 

I write with a sense of forced positivity. Scomo our erstwhile fool of a Prime Minister in Australia has allowed the senseless states of WA, QLD, and VIC to vote in further halving of our flight caps. This will have a direct impact on so many Australians who have booked months ago and are wanting to fly home. We are now ourselves in this category. I woke to calls and texts from friends in Australia who asked if I had read the news. I hadn't by then, but when I did, I felt a sense of impotent anger. And forlornness. The sense of having so little control over when we might be able to go home gives way to a sense of helplessness. We had previously read so many stories in the news of other Australians desperate to get home, with flight caps limiting their options. 

Perhaps the worse aspect is that there are countless Australians, happy to live their isolationist, petty lives, who feel that those of us overseas should have come home back in March 2020.  I can't even. Begin to consider their small-mindedness, their closed off mentality and their unAustralian sense of helping others. The vaccination program in Australia is an international joke. I have lost words to describe the loathing of Scomo. So I will end the post here.