Thirty five years after Gabo published "Love in the Time of Cholera", the earth-shattering pandemic happened. This is a love story in the time of Covid-19, wherein the writer is the character, and the end of the story is yet to be figured out.
9 March 2020
Today is the day. We are flying to Europe! For six months we have been waiting for the warmth of each other’s arms since our last physical encounter in Bali. Him, coming home from Mexico City to Bari. Me, going to Italy from Jakarta via Athens, then taking another flight from Athens to Rome, followed by bus to Bari.
It was going to be a big group from Jakarta since my parents and aunt would bound to Greece on the same day and same flight for vacation. We all gathered at the airport, which already looked less busy as usual. Perfect timing, I thought, since I don’t fancy crowd for my holidays.
People got scared of travelling due to the Covid-19 outbreak. Friends and family were worried that I would travel to Italy, as it has been hit hard by the virus.
Yet this they didn’t know. My final destination is in South Italy, which at this point keeps a clean record of the virus infection. As long as I maintain hygiene and immune system, which I already have, I’m confident that I would be fine.
My parent’s holiday tour group also shrunk from 13 to 5 persons. This gave me the opportunity to join the tour for free, because hotel rooms, transport, food and museum entrance tickets have been paid for 13 anyway. Longing to see Santorini to sing Mamma Mia and spend time with my old men, I decided to jump in.
10 March 2020
We arrived in Athens in the morning. He was in London at that time, waiting for his next flight home. After notifying and offering him to join the tour in Greece for free, he declined yet reassured me to go. So, I decided to miss my flight to Rome today and booked only one place in the flight from Athens to Rome for the 14th of March.
Acropolis was the first destination. I really enjoyed the tour presented by the local historian guide. After visiting Athen’s ancient city on the hill, lunch was scheduled in Plaka, a touristic yet nice restaurant area in its foothill. I got my next wifi connection at this restaurant, checked my email to find that the flight on the 14th was cancelled.
The air carrier gave two options: full refund or schedule change scheme. As my desire to see my beloved remains strong, and I have crossed the oceans for him, I rescheduled my flight to the 15th March. No big deal, I would have to extend just one night either in Athens or Corinth, the group’s final destination.
Dinner today was one of the worst. No, not the food because I still managed to finish it to the dessert, but my soul was saddened and my chest hurts as I read the news of the total lock-down of Italy in the afternoon. My flight obviously got cancelled again, and I somehow wished if I had taken the one today, it could have been the last flight and I would have made it to Italy. Us could be reunited.
You won Corona. Today, 10 March 2020, he took the last flight to successfully enter Italy and ironically I betrayed our hope of an encounter by missing it.
11 March 2020
My excitement of voyaging to Santorini Island today was only half cup. I woke up still with this weary and hope to be able to meet him in this trip, also because for us Indonesian passport holders, getting Schegen Visa is quite expensive and surely not a fast and simple process. Meeting him was the main reason for this trip; I even saved all documents needed for the visa application under a folder "Ti Vedo Presto, Amore", meaning see you soon, love.
I saved my smile for the camera and my family, yet my head was still processing probabilities. They are more or less like these:
I could stay legally in the Schengen countries for 30 days until the 20th of April. Maybe the lock-down will be over in 14 days. Maybe I could travel to Balkan countries to save these 30 days quota, like to Albania, then crossing the Adriatic Sea by boat. Maybe I could take the bus from Athens to Tirana. Maybe I could go to Bulgaria instead; to Plovdiv, the European Capital of Culture last year, and Sofia of course. Maybe if I go to Budapest, I could still watch some cultural shows that have not been dismissed. Maybe I could visit my friend in Bucharest, thus I wouldn't have to worry about language barrier. Or maybe I could go to Istanbul; maybe it's time for me to enter Hagia Sofia.
My mind was still working like Florence before meeting him until... our video-call that night. He looked happy even though he was home-quarantined. Meanwhile, I was free in this island I had always dreamt of visiting, yet confined with my own thoughts. His mother and father still also spared me their best smiles. He didn't have to say this to remind me, nor I told him about what I have been thinking of. Our light conversation that night put my weight back on what he taught me to do, being present.
12 March 2020
Finally I could sing again, and of course it was "Mamma Mia" as we passed in front of a hotel of the same name while strolling along the hilly coast of Thira, still in Santorini Island. Today I was more present than yesterday, which was important since we stopped at Santo Winery for wine tasting. I ain't sommelier, yet I could say that sipping Santorini's Vin Santo (dessert wine) was a deserving substitution of the Italian Chianti I might miss in this journey.
We headed back to the hotel in Athens at midnight. Everyone else might have been tired, physically me too. However, since I was back in this hotel room with TV cable, I stayed up for another couple of hours watching Rai 1, Italy's national news channel, hoping to hear good news that would allow me to pass the Italian border in the next days. The glad tidings never came.
13 March 2020
The last day to come up with a decision, if I dare to stay in this continent and take the risk, or go home to Indonesia with my family and the tour group. I thought it all throughout our journey to Arachova and Corinth Canal.
My naive heart would like to stay, although the universe had been telling me no.
First in the morning, the hotel reception said that there could be a lock-down of Greece in any moment, then news about worsening situation in Bulgaria, Spain, Germany and France. Accordingly, some European countries have also suspended museums and cultural activities, things I usually scout when I travel, but then again this travel is for him.
I came with clear head again after his affirmative message. It was decided, I'd go home tomorrow with the group, unless it was too late to change the flight. The current technology allowed me to make the change on the go, then a silver lining unfolded. Maybe this one was better referred as peach lining.
It was one of the prettiest sunset and beach I had ever seen, there in Vrachati Beach.
The clear water called my hands, then my feet to play with it. I think I was the only one that evening, who got into the cold water, then laid on the pebble beach to talk to the earth. I thanked the universe for feeding my soul with this journey and the earth for reminding my body that my senses were still working well. Through the water, I unleashed all my mind's confinements and ripple my embrace to the shore of Bari.
14 March 2020
In the Athens International Airport, I bid my farewell with a cup of macchiato and caprese sandwich at an Italian coffee shop, only to be informed by the attendant that today is the last day of all international flight. Perfect timing again?
Time is the omnipotent meta-writer.
It wrote this short scenario that one could not predict. The love story goes on whilst the writer cannot know its ending. It may need five decades like in the story of Florentino and Fermina, or as rapid as the spread of Corona.