St. George’s, Grenada
Port Louis Marina
12.02.608 N
61.44.986 W
Congratulations Robbie and Mike on your marriage on the 5th!
Happy Birthday Kylee on the 8th !
Happy Birthday Alayna on the 27th!
Hi everyone! I’m back and out of quarantine! I’ve got a feeling that no matter how hard I try to keep this simple, its going to be long. So grab a beverage, sit back and I’ll tell you my tale.
We left off with Savannah just getting over her “kid thing” and just before we left Grenada. One afternoon, we received a call from her mother saying that there was a meeting of Savannah’s teachers and students and asked if we could click in. As it happened, I was on the computer so it was already booted up and we followed the directions given. I’m sure everyone is doing these types of meetings these days but it was my first and I was impressed. I sat Savannah at the table, turned the computer towards her, turned off the mic as instructed and watched as the new ‘normal’ in schooling took place. She was attending school in Texas from Grenada. Fascinating!
The night before we left, we gathered with Gerry and Nicky, Gene and Renee, Mark and Gina, for our last dinner at Victory; what I assumed to be Savannah’s favorite restaurant. Everyone wished her well and hoped she would remember her time with us on the island. Even Alishia, the waitress who always made sure she had 2 cherries in her drinks came by to give her a hug and kiss goodbye.
That evening, Savannah’s mom called worried that our flight might be cancelled or delayed due to another hurricane brewing in the Gulf but as it would pass to the north of us during the night before we took off, I wasn’t worried and tried to reassure her.
Although our flight wasn’t until 2pm, we were up and packed early. I actually had packed two bags; one for Texas and one for my quarantine on return. That one was more of my computer, coloring books, and power bars for the duration. Dale promised to keep scouring the island for Diet Coke for me. One of the plant workers had tested positive for CoVid, so to err on the side of caution, they closed the Diet Coke production where he worked and we hadn’t seen the elixir I thrive on for some time.
We had a huge breakfast late morning as we assumed that our next meal would be in Toronto, Canada. I packed some snacks for Savannah just in case. Dale called our usual taxi driver and as he walked us down the dock to the parking lot, I swear, every boat had someone on the back, waving goodbye to Savannah. I think her birthday scavenger hunt had really brought it to everyone’s attention that there was a little person in their midst. It was great.
Savannah and I took the taxi to the airport on our own, as it is quite a ways from the marina. We checked in and walked through the desolate airport with just those who were on our flight. There were only 2 shops opened; a duty free shop and a souvenir shop. We picked up a couple of sodas and waited for our plane. When it arrived, the people getting off were being directed to a different part of the airport. As Grenada’s airport is small, when it was our turn to board, we walked out onto the tarmac and followed the painted lines that directed us to our plane. We climbed up the ramp to board and entered into a fuselage that had mist pouring out of the air conditioning ducts and were each handed a little bag of “goodies”. Apparently the mist is how they are assuring that every surface is being disinfected. Our bag of “goodies” consisted of a mask, a pair of latex gloves, a travel size bottle of hand sanitizer, a couple of packets of disinfectant wipes, a pair of ear buds and a bag of pretzels. Talk about the Twilight Zone. We found our seats and spent the next 5.5 hours watching movies and going to the bathroom. Although they weren’t offering any type of meal, you could have as many non-alcoholic drinks as you wanted. I have to admit, AirCanada did a good job of trying to keep the 6’ limit between everyone. Although each row was filled, no more than 2 were in each row unless you were traveling with family, and even Savannah and I had a seat between us. I liked it! It was the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like a sardine.
When we arrived in Toronto, we were directed to follow the signs to the international connecting flights to locate the next check in for our “holding area”. I believe I alluded to the reason for this “holding area” in my previous post: if we left the airport, we were subject to Canada’s 2 week quarantine. Didn’t want that!
We found the spot and checked in via little computer terminals that scanned our passports, dispensed little slips of papers with check marks on them before we were then guided to our “holding area” which was actually the food court/duty free shops in the airport. It was ingenious if you think about it. It was in a lower area that could only be accessed by 2 elevators or a set of stairs to a central area. The escalators only ran down to it; nothing up. We were told we could spend the night here but to meet back at 5am under the clock to be guided to our gates in the morning. We were also advised to grab something to eat then as most of the restaurants closed in the next 30 minutes. It was 9pm by this time but we both grabbed a couple of $20 hamburgers.
We walked the entire perimeter so that I could get a “lay of the land” before I selected a quiet spot close to a ladies room to spend the night. I laid out a couple of towels for Savannah to stretch out on and I had a seat to watch the world go by. Bless her heart, she was out in minutes. There is a whole new world in an airport after hours and I’m afraid the workers who come out during the graveyard shift are trying to get used to the new workarounds the airport is instituting to get international flights up and running again as are those of us who are trying to utilize those workarounds for travel. For example: I would say there were a dozen of us who had selected this area of the airport to sleep. So when the Zamboni type of vacuum cleaner came in our direction, I and a mother of a couple of toddlers not too far from me gave him a look that I’m sure he could read through our masks because he made a wide berth around us. I was lucky, Savannah slept through it. The parents of the toddlers weren’t as lucky and spent the next couple of hours trying to get their children to sleep again.
Five am came soon enough and those of us making a connection to the US, gathered under the clock. About 5:30, I noticed an information telephone near the elevator, so I picked it up and explained the situation. They said to stay where we were and they would contact AirCanada. Six o’clock came and went before I tried again with the same direction: wait. At 6:30 we decided to walk up the stairs and try to figure things out for ourselves as some of us had a flight to Chicago at 8:30. The first people in our party to get about half way up the stairs were met by AirCanada personnel coming down, telling them to please return to our spot and wait. We were not to leave by ourselves. Our guide showed up just after 7am. No matter how frustrated we were, no one said anything because we knew that we are lucky to be able to get any international travel at all.
We were then guided to the international terminal where we went through US Customs by TSA officials and answered the usual Customs questions about bringing in meats, cheeses, fresh fruit, vegetables, booze, etc. I answered no to everything. Savannah admitted that she still had some left over Cheetos and M&M’s. He said that she could keep them.
We found our gate and soon boarded our flight to Chicago.
Once again, we were given the little bags of “goodies”. Very soon we landed in Chicago and made our way to the gate that would take us to Houston. On the way, we passed a McDonald’s. What child can pass a MickyD’s without asking for a Happy Meal? Particularly one who hasn’t seen one in almost 4 months. We stopped and even though it seemed about the middle of the day to us, it was only 10 am and Happy Meals weren’t available. She begrudgingly settled for a breakfast sandwich which was consumed with only minutes to spare before we had to board our next flight.
We collected more bags of “goodies” very much like the ones we had been given in Grenada and Toronto, but with United’s insignia on everything instead of AirCanada’s. United was still packing everyone in tight. We passed this flight with another movie. I was grateful. As long as I kept busy, playing games on my iPad or watching movies, I didn’t notice that I had been up over 24 hours.
We landed in Houston and made our way to baggage claim. I was in the process of snagging our 2nd bag when the loud piercing squeal alerted me that Savannah had spotted her mom. We had arrived!
As we were catching up on our way home, it became apparent that Houston was preparing to close down for the hurricane that had passed us in Grenada but continued on to meet us in Texas. Hurricane Laura was due to blow through sometime Wednesday night or Thursday early morning. As this was Tuesday afternoon, I asked if we could stop at some stores on our way home. If I could pick up some of the items on my list before they closed everything, I felt I had a better chance of getting them for my trip back. Again, as long as I kept busy and there wasn’t much of a lull in our conversation, I was doing great.
As we were driving, the Urgent Care Center I had an appointment with the following day for my return PCR test, called to confirm that I had arrived and would be keeping my appointment. I assured them that I would. Michelle, Savannah’s mother, could see that I was starting to pack too much into my time there and changed plans from a quick nap and dinner plans to ordering a pizza to be delivered as soon as we hit the driveway. Smart thinking. We braved both Costco and Sam’s before heading to her place. I ate a couple of slices and was in bed and asleep by 8pm. I slept 12 hours. I had made it almost 36 hours.
The Urgent Care Center called again the following morning and asked if I could move my appointment up an hour. Not a problem. We then packed up and started making the rounds to all of the stores I hadn’t been able to stop at to pick up the remainder of the items on my list to take back with me. While we were out, the Urgent Care Center called again, asking if they could do the preliminary work up with me over the phone; again, not a problem. The 3rd time they called, they started by saying that they could do the test but that they weren’t sure they could get the results back in time. I explained that I was only a couple of blocks from them and if they needed me to come in, at that moment, I could. No, they wanted their nurse to only suit up one time. It was a drive by type of testing. You couldn’t go into the office.
This is when stress, miscommunication, and quite frankly, holy hell broke loose. They were trying to close the office for the hurricane. Their supervisor, who Michelle had coordinated my appointment with and knew the particulars of my situation, was not in the office. I tried to explain that I had to have a PCR test within 7 days of entering back into Grenada, it takes 2 days to complete the test and 2 days to fly back and I’m leaving on Sunday to catch a plane that only flies out once a week. All I need is a yes or no answer to know whether I need to change my flight if they couldn’t get the tests results back in time; which they weren’t willing to give me on their own. The only people who could give a definitive answer was the lab and they gave me that telephone number. The person who called me, passed my call to the nurse to answer, I run through the whole thing again with her, who said that she heard hostility in my voice and hung up on me!
By this time, we were sitting in their parking lot and as soon as Michelle heard that they had hung up on me, got out of the car and marched into the office. No one is in the front office, they’ve left the door to the back office open and she hears them talking about me, so, she goes through and confronts them. This of course, scares the bejesus out of them but somehow they work it out. The hang up was inadvertent. The supervisor never told them anything about me coming in and no one foresaw a hurricane entering into the picture. Michelle explains that I’m not angry, I’m frustrated. We’ve been adjusting our schedules to meet theirs; I just need a straight answer so I don’t waste my money on a test that does me no good.
In the meantime, I call the lab and find out that as long as the test gets to them by Friday (this is Wednesday) they can have the results to me the next day. Since no one is willing to stick their necks out on the time line, I decide to go ahead and have the test and hope I get the results back in time. If I have to pay for a 2nd one, so be it.
I swear that woman swabbed the back of my throat from my nose going through the sinus cavity but it was done. Michelle even volunteered to drive it to the post office but was told that it has to go by courier. Later that evening, the supervisor calls Michelle and tells her that the test was sent out on time. By this time, we know that the hurricane is moving to the east of us.
Thursday morning, Houston doesn’t get so much as a drop of water from the hurricane. We spend the day rearranging Michelle’s dining room to make an office for her and Savannah to work adjacent to each other as Savannah is scheduled to do “distance learning” from home.
Friday afternoon my test results are ready to be picked up—on time—and I pick up the remainder of the items on my list. All of that angst for nothing.
Saturday, I load my suitcase with all of my purchases for everyone and pack the back of Michelle’s car with it and the box containing 2 port hatches we ordered and had sent to Michelle ahead of my arrival. We still needed these to make repairs to the boat from damages incurred during our transit from St. John’s to Grenada back in June.
Sunday, Michelle drops me off at the airport for my trip back. I was asked to show my PCR certificate prior to being issued a ticket, so it was definitely needed for that aspect (I had actually given some thought to having it photographed and sent to my phone if it didn’t come in on time). I’m questioned as to what is in the box as its about 3 pounds overweight. I explained and offered to show them my boat papers for the hatches but they were declined. This time, I was catching a direct flight back to Toronto instead of a connecting one through Chicago.
Once in Toronto, I knew where I was going to sleep and even pushed a couple of chairs together to get a better position to doze if possible. It wasn’t possible as the couple the next row over decided that was the perfect time to chit chat the night through. There were more children in the area who weren’t the least bit interested in sleeping, so I got up and moved to where I could keep myself entertained on my iPad and planned on another 24 hour commute.
The return trip was as just the reverse of the original one; every row was filled but no more than 2 per row, so it was comfortable. I was given another bag of “goodies” and watched 2 more movies. I have quite the collection of masks, gloves, hand sanitizer and ear buds now.
Once we arrived in Grenada, it was our turn to go to the “other part of the airport”. We were handed numbers before being separated into two groups. Americans and Europeans in one; everyone else in the other. Everyone filled out 6 forms for checking in; Americans and Europeans had an additional 2. Americans and Europeans had to quarantine in hotels; everyone else could ‘self quarantine’ at home.
Then we were called by our assigned number to go to 4 different stations to be checked in. At each station, more forms were filled in with our information. It was frustrating that we had filled out all of those forms but they weren’t referred to at any of the stations, so my name is misspelled in 2 of the 4. My PCR certificate was taken at one of them; I should have taken a photograph of it for the blog but I didn’t think of it. I get out of 1 line, to enter into another. Finally, I got to the PCR checkpoint at the airport. This time, instead of being one nostril swabbed, it was both. Then they swabbed the back of my throat; I heard the person in the next partition gagging. I prayed they didn’t hit my gag reflex or they’d be cleaning up the floor. The final station was Immigration who cleared me in until the end of November. Dale still needs to have his Visa extended from the end of September to the end of November.
Next, I was directed around to pick up my luggage at Customs who had red tagged the box with the 2 port hatches which meant that I needed to go to another line. There I was told that duty was imposed. I showed them my boat papers (which we had been told negated the duty) but apparently this was only partially correct. After a bit of discussion, opening the box looking for the receipt that we had been told was in the box, calling Dale to see if he could locate a receipt, calculating whether we should pay the duty outright or hire a broker to bring in the box, about an hour later it was decided that a broker was needed. However, I had to transfer my paperwork to Dale, so that he could take over getting the information to the broker and having the paperwork stamped by the Customs officials at the marina to give to the broker. How to go about that while being in quarantine became the next question. In any event, the box was taped shut and left at the airport in Customs.
I headed out to get a “special” taxi to go to my quarantine hotel. There was no one at the little kiosk as I left, so I continued out the door and started to hail a taxi but was suddenly stopped by 3 uniformed men saying that I had to return to the kiosk to be processed out. This was completed by taking a ticket from my suitcase (which was also red tagged but not addressed—so now I’m a smuggler of red licorice and trail mix in addition to being a granny terrorist), questioned about the box left behind but then satisfied, a taxi was directed to pick me up and drop me off at Sea Breeze Hotel, my quarantine home for the next 14 days. When I asked how much the fare was, the taxi driver said $40EC or $60US. I suppose he thought I was new in town. As I had both, I gave him his $40EC (which is about $15US).
As I had already called Dale from the airport, he knew I had arrived and I called him again from the hotel to let him know I had checked in. I had a guard on my door (he was there for everyone in the quarantine status but he sat outside my door, so he became known as my guard) and was given a page of dos and don’ts (mostly don’ts). No swimming in the pool outside my door, no leaving the premises, no visitors in my room, and no room service. For a fee, grocery shopping or take out food pickups would be made for me. Instead of ‘cruiser jail’ this was ‘visitor jail.’
I no sooner entered the room, than I had to go back to the front desk and ask for remedial training in how to run everything. There were switches on all of the sockets and plugs-but worked opposite of American switches. So you had to turn on the switch and then turned on the item. The AC was not only on a switch but also a remote, in Celsius, (I just turned it up and down until it was comfortable.)
There was a little kitchenette. It had a mini-sink, a 2 burner hot plate, with a toaster oven, a separate toaster and a mini-frig that we had to move out in order to get to the switch to turn it on. There were 2 mugs, 2 lunch plates, 2 soup bowls, 2 mismatched sets of flatware, one pot, one pan, one coffee/hot water maker and 1 pretty water glass. I only used the water glass and a spoon during my full quarantine. However, I did have a king size bed and a set of bunk beds. No table, no chairs, and no dresser. I had a nice sized shower but no where to put the soap except the floor or the toilet tank. I was given 1 thread bare towel, 1 wash cloth and 2 hand towels.
There was a window in the bathroom but no curtain. As the window was unlocked, I stood on the toilet pushed with all my might to force it closed and locked it. The window over the kitchenette had a curtain (and bars on the outside) but they were 3” too short. You get what you pay for and I paid the equivalent of $50US/night. The only things I wanted were a bed, a toilet, AC and cable TV. I got that. During my time there, I realized that I could have used a table and chair which I asked for on 3 different occasions during the first 5 days but came to realize that it wasn’t going to happen.
My guard had to be consulted but I was allowed to transfer the Customs paperwork to Dale when he dropped off my suitcase. We were allowed to speak, with him on one side of the wall between the pool and my room and me standing in the doorway. We did a virtual hug and a quick catch up before he had to get back to his cab and I headed in for bed. It had been another 36 hour day.
The next day, Gerry and Nicky dropped off two 5 liter bottles of drinking water for me; they didn’t realize that we could have had a quick barrier visit, so we didn’t get to speak. With a new guard and a new person on the desk, I was able to take out what I needed for my “jail” time and transfer the remainder of my suitcase to Dale which had everyone’s shopping in it when he brought me another suitcase with a computer wire, a decent towel and two 2 liter bottles of Diet Coke and a bottle of rum (what a guy!)
My time spent in hotel quarantine actually went by much faster than the original boat quarantine. I developed a little routine of getting up, making my bed before keeping myself entertained with going through emails, playing computer games and watching either movies or HGTV from said bed. Seems everyone is designing homes with 6 burner stoves these days. I used the bunk beds as a dresser.
Where I ran into problems was that the room was wired for European 220v sockets. In my info sheet of dos and don’ts, it said I could get an adapter at the front desk. Unfortunately, the front desk didn’t have any, so my 110v computer and hair drier were tucked back into my suitcase and why the blog went on hiatus. The sockets did have USB outlets and my phone and iPad didn’t blow up, so those apparently work regardless of current. Lots of people sent me texts, checking to see if I was doing OK and I really appreciated that it broke up the day with something different to do.
During all of this time, Dale was “fixing” the boat. Nicky described it as fixing something small that usually turned into something big. They would invite him over for dinner and then the next day, he would fix dinner for them. Not bad! And only 1 baking dish broken. Not bad at all.
Day 5, about 11am, the hotel informed me that they were having some plumbing problems and that the water would be turned off for a couple of hours. OK. About 4:30pm, I realize they still hadn’t turned the water back on. So I go to the front office and remind them, I’m still without water. They assure me that it will be on in very short order. At 10pm, I remind them again, I still have no water. This they seem surprised about and say that they will call the plumber back. The next day at 8:30am, I again go in and am told that the supervisor has been informed. A little after 10, I finally am able to flush the toilet and take a shower.
Day 9 in quarantine, the front desk came by to tell me that I had a telephone call from the Ministry of Health. Everyone had been asking about the test results from the PCR done at the airport but I hadn’t heard anything and figured this was it. Actually, they were calling to tell me the new protocol for being dismissed from quarantine. I entered quarantine believing that it would be a rapid test to get out but soon found out that it was both a rapid test and another PCR test. That would make 3 PCR tests in as many weeks! I asked about the test done at the airport and was told that it too had been negative but that this was what the current protocol entailed. Since she said I was being released after 10 days instead of 14, I thought it best not to get too testy about it (my last 4 days were to be self-quarantine on the boat. You bet!) I reminded her that check out time from the hotel was 11:30 and was assured that the testers would be making their rounds in the morning. I went back to my room and packed.
At 11:15 the following morning, I went to the front office and asked if they could make any provisions if the testers didn’t get there in the next 15 minutes. She said that she would allow a late check out until 2pm. At 1pm, I went back and asked if I could check out then and simply wait for the testers in the front office; nope! Only the Ministry of Health could give the word to let me check out. Wonderful.
At 1:30, 2 women came to give me both the PCR test and a rapid test. However, they didn’t have the authority to allow me to check out of the hotel. They took Dale’s number (his is our Grenadian phone) and said that I would be contacted by the Ministry as to when I could check out. It turned out that they would call the Ministry to give the rapid test results; the Ministry would call the police, who would call the guard, who would tell the front desk as to when I could check out. Dale called me about 15 minutes later saying that he had been informed that the test results were negative and he was on his way. I went to the front desk again telling them of this and they balked saying that they had not heard from the guard. However, she did text someone at the Ministry and it was decided that I could check out. Talk about bureaucracy!
Not too much later, Dale appeared and gave me a big hug and took me back to the boat. I emptied my bags, we texted everyone to let them know I had been sprung and met up at the Victory restaurant (appropriately named today) and celebrated with something other than protein bars, diet coke and ice water. Quarantine was a great way to lose some extra pounds but I really enjoyed my fresh salad that evening.
Although I didn’t confine myself to the boat during my self-quarantine, I did wear my mask religiously for the remaining 4 days. However, grocery shopping had to be done, a new restaurant had to be tried and we had to replace that broken baking dish. Interestingly, I found that I had actually lost some strength during the ordeal and needed to take some breaks walking around. I haven’t gone back to my daily swimming as yet but that should be soon.
News from Texas is that Savannah’s distant learning online school is not going well. Due to the various computers being used, its difficult for the teacher to instruct the children on which buttons to push. Apparently one parent had a melt down over the issue, stomping out of the room saying she was going to put her son in the regular classroom, which induced him to start crying about not wanting to catch CoVid and die. What are we doing to our children with this?
Michelle ended up contacting the teacher afterhours who was able to remotely access what Savannah was seeing and refer it to an IT specialist, who couldn’t figure out the problem either. Bottom line, Savannah has returned to a (air quotes) “special” class. When Savannah facetimed us to tell us about her day, I laughed at her describing her new (air quotes) “special” class. Apparently, regular school classes are already assigned, so those that are returning to schools from online classes are being placed in a classroom where they are provided identical computers and continue their online classes with a teacher in the room to assist them when they need help. At the moment there are only 8 students with 1 teacher in this particular classroom. I agree with Michelle’s assessment that these 8 students are going to get a much better understanding of the assignments than their counterparts as they have a teacher available not only throughout the class taught but also during the time they are allotted to finish their homework. I wonder what’s going to happen should the online students pass their classroom counterparts by the end of the year. It could be interesting.
Well, Dale is telling me that taco Tuesday is calling his name, so I’m off. I hope this hasn’t been too boring for you.
Finally, let's hash this out now...Who else is going as the corona virus for Halloween?
