To travel these days, you need to be an orange...

Exactly a year ago today, we arrived in Cromer, the first of many such changes of plan.

It was pure chance that we picked Cromer (I remember our discovery, in a cafe in Zaragoza, that we had both independently thought of that part of the UK as an immediate bolt-hole). It was a very lucky trick of fate, as we ended up spending many months there.

So it's a year since we arrived in Cromer, which means it's also a year since the restrictions on our lives kicked in. It's a year since we've been free to do anything but the most limited travel.

In Sarawak, the situation has deteriorated significantly this year. For almost two months now, we have not even been allowed to leave Kuching... We haven't seen the sea since early December...

I wasn't entirely sure where to put this post. After all, reflections on travel  in recent months have been housed over at The Velvet Cushion.

But because it has a direct bearing on our currently hamstrung Big OE, I guess it belongs here...

So, we're not able to travel, even locally. And we can't leave the country without risking getting marooned again with no right of return.


But frankly, even if there were no such restrictions, it's still not the time for long-distance leisure travel -- despite the travel offers that appear tantalizingly in my in-box from time to time.

Of course, as soon as it's possible to go and see our family in the UK (and be relatively confident we'll get home again), we'll be going.

But travel for travel's sake? It's just not appropriate yet.

To quote Geraldine DeRuiter: "To everyone traveling right now: Stop it." Or Stuart McDonald: "I’m firmly in the 'locals safe first camp'. Travel needs to wait." Until we have much denser, much more widespread vaccination coverage, it really doesn't seem like the responsible thing to do.

Furthermore, we might not be travelling in any meaningful sense for quite a while... Vaccines, while highly useful, don't stop us spreading the disease, and there are new strains against which they might be less effective -- a "bleak reality [that] has pushed back expectations of any meaningful recovery in global travel to 2022." A Singapore-based consultant predicts long-haul travel may not get going again properly until 2023 or 2024...

Others agree: "Recovery looks far off, even with effective vaccines. The OECD predicts that tourism will be among the 'last sectors of the economy to ... recover lost demand'."

Australia, for example, has apparently said that quarantine will be with us until 2022.


But taking a longer-term view, things look different: "All forecasts reckon on travel and tourism returning to prepandemic levels over the next few years and then continuing on a path of growth."

Which brings us back to the big question: After all these months of downtime -- months when a host of divergent actors have reflected on how tourism might look different going forward -- are we REALLY gearing up for change?

Many observers fear we're not.

JoAnna Haugen: "Throughout this past year, a lot of emphasis within the tourism industry has been placed on the importance of prioritizing local communities in the 'new' version of tourism. Yet, in this rush of getting the industry back on its feet, I’m concerned we’re already turning our backs on that commitment. The industry is on the fast track back to a system built on suppression and oppression of those who are most vulnerable... A small handful of people need to travel right now. When those who want to travel out of a desire that’s been shaped and reinforced as a need, the tourism industry stands on a razor-sharp edge between the way it used to conduct business and how it claims it wants to build back better."

Susanne Becken agrees: "There’s little evidence that global tourism is looking to transform... Flying is a privilege, but for those who have the privilege to fly when they travel, it’s often a throwaway activity. We need to reframe flying as something special -- and something to be reserved for special occasions -- so that we appreciate the ability to do so and respect the sacrifice being made for our convenience."

Remember that in 2019, almost 60% of international travellers arrived and departed by air, compared with only 5% by sea and 1% by rail...


In light of all this, I was intrigued by the title of an article by Molly Jong-Fast: "Who was I before this pandemic -- and who am I now?"

It's a good question.

I was a traveller. It was a big part of my identity. I'm not a traveller at the moment, and don't know when I will be. That's very saddening.

I took travel for granted (not in the sense of not being grateful for it -- I was always grateful for it -- but in the sense of assuming it would always happen). Now I really don't, and that raises many questions about the way we have constructed our lives.

I was all geared up for proactively cracking travel problems in retirement (budget, health, insurance, sustainability, and so on). I was totally unprepared for there being no travel. I was a planner. Now there's really no point in planning anything.

Jong-Fast comments: "It’s been both the saddest year of my life and also one of the most revealing. This juxtaposition has been strange, but I appreciate the hell out of things I used to take for granted... I hope that my appreciation for the small and mundane never goes away."

I think I've always been pretty good at appreciating the small and mundane. But yes, these little things have become even more important.

A cloudscape. A reflection. A flower. A different view of something familiar.









A good book. A gripping TV series. A new song to dance to. A glass of wine. A new flavour. The mix of colours on a plate...




Tonight we're going to drink to the gains and losses of this extraordinary year.

Tomorrow, we'll carry on carrying on. A day at a time.