Tag Archives: Covid19

Madrid and the silent stowaway

Sometimes you just get tired of being careful. Life passes by and you feel like an outsider – you are not participating. This is how two grandmothers – myself included – and their teenage granddaughters ended up in Madrid for three very full days when Fall leave began.

Of course, we knew that coronavirus case numbers were on the rise. But who has the time and inclination to worry about this when your plane lands in sunny Madrid?

Our group would have been fine with me walking around in a mask all day. Yet it felt weird to do so, when (almost) nobody else was wearing one. Masks were obligatory only when using public transportation.

Peer pressure is a funny thing. Even when there is no actual pressure, you can create it yourself. A mask tends to set you slightly aside if others are not wearing one too. You feel different whether others treat you as such or not. Unless you are into being aloof, it is not a fun feeling; which is why I chose to join the majority.

As always – this was not our first trip abroad as a group – our trip was a thoroughly positive experience. This time, however, it was a little too much so. Thanks to my silent stowaway, the coronavirus, I tested corona positive upon my return. Still, I have no regrets. I thoroughly enjoyed our maskless foray into Spanish culture at its richest.

However, looking back at our carefree days in Madrid, I can’t help wondering when I picked up my passenger. I guess we all do that once we test positive.

Was it at the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum where we saw the great Picasso/Chanel exhibition?

Maybe it was when I was scolded by a museum guard for photographing Picasso’s Guernica in the Reina Sofia Museum?

Here I feel the need to defend myself. The museum’s “No photos” sign read as if it referred only to the room that Guernica was in, while I was taking my photo from the next room. In addition, photos are allowed in other areas of the Reina Sofia Museum as proven by the auditorium photo below, which we specifically asked permission for. Immersive art at its best.

Going back to my new companion, did the stowaway hop aboard as we were enjoying the views on the top floor of Riu Plaza Espana? We missed a visit to the Royal Palace of Madrid and the Prado Museum this time, but at least we got a glimpse of the former from the roof top.

Then again, my stowaway may have caught up with me when the girls were shopping through their shortlist of environmentally friendly brands – or on the hop on hop off bus, while I was commenting on the fact that even head post offices look like palaces in Madrid.

Many would consider the flamenco restaurant we visited the most probable breeding ground for stowaways. It was packed, and the tickets cost enough for people to disregard a slight cough or cold instead of foregoing the flamenco experience. An experience that was unanimously voted “best experience of our trip” by the teenagers.

The Picasso/Chanel exhibition and Guernica ended up tied for second position even though Retiro Park was close behind.

The downstairs delicatessen “made our day” each afternoon as we returned to our airbnb for a short recharge. There is no way the virus embedded itself in my cookie! Nothing would be right in this world if that could happen.

However, if I had to bet on where I picked up my silent stowaway, my bet would be on the waitress who managed to sneeze directly at me as we were having lunch in a well-known restaurant. Looking back, there is something so familiar about that sneeze. I found myself re-enacting it – albeit handkerchief at hand – a few days later.

This is how the virus travels. We have to work for a living, we get frustrated with tight rules and regulations, we want to live and experience things together as we used to with friends and family. The virus is betting on us acting as we do and adapting to our ways. The less deadly it is, the more probably we will allow it near us. Silent stowaways are all around us, just waiting for a ride.

The good thing about this pause in my life is that I have less time to worry about the world now that I have to worry about each new symptom. Is that the same headache my sister-in-law suffered from creeping up on me? Do I feel extra tired like many say they did? Definitely – at least, when it’s my turn to empty the dishwasher. Am I loosing my voice like my friend did? Why am I not feeling worse? Can this really be over in a few days? What about long Covid? Is the virus just sitting there, planning a new attack?

There are now two of us. My silent stowaway, who managed to disrupt the world together with its very extended family, and I. Life continues. We will both move on to business as usual, whatever that is, once our quarantine is over.

A moment of hope in Alicante

It happened early in November 2021. For a brief moment, life was sunny and filled with hope. The world seemed to be moving back towards a state of tentative normalcy.

The COVID Omicron variant had yet to surface. Putin had yet to ramp up his rhetoric regarding Ukraine and NATO to its present levels of aggressiveness. China’s ruthless trade war against Lithuania, an example of Tianxia in practice, had yet to make the Finnish news. Even Trump was laying low in terms of international visibility.

Less than two months later, we are back in the cold, be it in terms of superpower politics, COVID statistics or the weather. Finland and Finns are feeling the chill acutely on all fronts.

Let’s, however, focus on the positive. Join me on a trip back in time: to November 2021 and sunny Alicante.

My partner in life and I have long had the habit of heading for sunnier shores in November; a habit that was cut off by COVID-19 last year. This November we finally felt safe enough to pack our bags and take off again. It was our first trip abroad since February 2020, i.e. since ages ago.

On an airport you often feel slightly disconnected from the world. This time the disconnect was greater than ever as we found our way from check-in to our departure gate. Mask-faced crowds marched to-and- fro all around us, dragging carry-on bags along the endless airport corridors like industrious, faceless ants.

We had prepared diligently for our trip. Our vaccinations were in order, our EU Digital COVID vaccination certificates were accessible from all devices, the digital forms required by the Spanish government had been filled well in advance in the app provided, printed copies of all documents were packed into every bag, and we had enough masks to travel for a month instead of the ten days we planned to stay in Alicante. Our chosen hotel advertised many COVID safety measures, including the obligatory use of masks in all public spaces.

In other words, we landed in Alicante in full COVID mode.

For those, who are as unfamiliar with the city as we were upon arrival; Alicante is a historic Mediterranean port. It is the capital of the province of Alicante, which in turn is a part of the Valencian community. The population of the city itself is close to 340,000. Both in terms of atmosphere and location, Alicante is in between its southern counterpart, Malaga, and its northern counterpart, Valencia.

Before the pandemic, Alicante would have been nice but nothing out of the ordinary. Now everything felt new and interesting as we slowly woke up from our COVID-induced hibernation.

Granted, pandemic or not, I am hard put to find a hotel as conveniently situated as Melia Alicante, which sits between a nice beach and a scenic yacht harbour, has a bona fide historic castle looming above it, and still remains within walking distance of everything you might want to see or do.

Even though the COVID situation was good at the time, we preferred to skip public transportation. Alicante is eminently walkable. We took a taxi only when coming and going to the airport and travelling to nearby Elche to see its multiple palm parks.

Due to our sailing background, the Ocean Race Museum was a must-see for us. It tells the story of the Ocean Race, formerly known as the Volvo Ocean Race and originally called the Whitbread Round the World Race. This globe-circling yacht race was first held in 1973.

The museum is – probably somewhat unintentionally – a quick crash course in how our lives have changed since the 70’s due to technology. It highlights the technological advances that have taken place in multiple areas, be it e.g. weather forecasting, navigation, communication, design, materials or construction. It shows us how the speed of everything has accelerated and underlines the fact that the skill sets needed to compete successfully have changed fundamentally. 

A must-see for all Alicante visitors is Santa Barbara Castle. The castle area itself is interesting and the views are to die for in good weather. The castle’s history goes back to the 9th century. It was recaptured from the Arabs in 1248 on the feast day of Saint Barbara.

The castle elevator at the floor of the mountain was closed due to COVID, one more  reminder that times were not fully back to normal. It proved to be a blessing in disguise in our case. There are many scenic routes to the castle. Walking up and down is definitely worth the effort. 

To summarise our moment of hope in Alicante: For a small moment, life was back to nearly normal. Skies were blue, the sun was shining, and we were out and about pretty much like on any other trip: enjoying sights, delicious meals and some really good wines (Alicante has some surprisingly good restaurants) in a cocoon of perceived safety. At the end of each day, we were lulled to sleep by the sound of waves hitting the beach in front of our hotel.

We had arrived in full COVID mode and departed ten days later in a state of relaxed hopefulness.

I keep going back to this moment of hope in my mind and take comfort from it amidst the cold, which is why I decided to share it with you.

There is a Finnish saying, “Paistaa se päivä risukasaankin”, which translates into “The sun will shine into a pile of brushwood too”. May the sun shine into your pile of brushwood, wherever it is – as it did into mine for a moment in Alicante.