Travelin Amidst a Pandemic

As COVID-19 case numbers in Europe and elsewhere in the world started skyrocketing yet again, I boarded my flight to Paris. 

Zurich to Paris is literally a hop, skip and a jump away. However, let me tell you, all of the heightened health security plus documentation, definitely made my pre-flight jitters all the more jittery. 

I was well prepared though. Having... self-administered my own Polymerase Chain Reaction test nearly exactly 96 hours prior to my scheduled arrival time in Nairobi, completed and paid for a 9-page Kenyan eVisa application, printed out this eVisa once it had been approved, checked to make sure I had medical, accident and repatriation coverage, updated my German passport and renewed my American one, completed an online form to obtain a QR code to enter Kenya, purchased, planned, packed and repacked my gear (which also meant weighing it approximately 352 times to make sure I wasn't over the limit), I felt totally at ease waiting one hour too early to check in at the check-in counter in Zurich. 

Once I made it to the counter, I was asked to show the youzhe, plus the QR code, eVisa and negative COVID test form. They were strict about that. No show, no go. 

Ciao, ciao, snowy Swissyland! 

The plane was relatively full and Charles de Gaulle was even more packed. Yowzas. What a strange and somewhat unsettling sight to see groups of travellers, wearing white hazmat-esque suits and face shields, These were lifted up every so often to take a sip of some overpriced airport beverage. 

After getting some sort of sticker and showing my documents again at the gate in Paris, off I went. No turnin' back now!

The only way to travel. 

More forms. How wonderful. 

After an 8-hour uneventful flight with a few extra amenities: a complimentary face mask and sanitizers, I made it to Nairobi. It's fair to say the arrivals hall was just a teensy bit tense. And nobody seemed to be 100% sure as to which line to go to. QR code, please. Negative PCR form. Yep. Stand on the two faded painted-on footprints. Arms motioning to go this way or pass through.  Wait till that body temperature scanner screen shows a technicolor version of your figure.  And, done. 

Next step, passport control. I consider myself a highly experienced traveller at this stage in my life. And yet I also consider myself a nervous Nellie at any sort of border crossing. I am always afraid I am going to end up in some rat-infested maximum security prison because I brought the wrong kind of toothpaste. But, I was ready for this. Armed with an official invitation to go on safari around Kenya, I first handed over my passport and eVisa. I was promptly told I could stay for a month. New rules. I would have to apply for a new visa in a month's time. Knowing that this could not possibly be true, I held my ground and explained that I paid for a 3 month visa and detailed my tourist travel plans. As I was about to reach for that invitation, the "kind" border officer stated that this time she would let me stay for three. Stamped and signed, my passport and I waltzed on past and entered KENYA!!