Well I didn’t expect to be writing a blog post like this. I’ve been back in the UK for 7 and a half weeks now after the coronavirus hit Spain.
The week of the 9th March was when I started feeling really anxious. We were hearing a lot about what was happening in Italy, and places like Madrid and Barcelona had a high number of cases. I really wanted to come home because it was all very stressful, but I was still working so I couldn’t just pack up and leave. Schools closed on 12th March and to start with me and my friends were like ‘wow this will be great, tonnes of free time, we can go to the gym, spend time at the beach and all move in together!’. The next day I was still sure we were all staying and then I received a message saying, ‘I’ve booked a flight.’. Within minutes I had booked a flight and started packing. My flight was at 6pm the next day so all I could do was sit and wait for my bus to Faro airport.
The morning of my flight I got a phone call from one of my colleagues asking if I was home yet. When I told him I was still in Spain, heading to Portugal in the next few hours, he was really concerned. He said that the government were going to close the borders soon so I might be stuck in Huelva. You don’t even understand the relief I felt when we crossed the Portuguese border. I’m so thankful that I was able to go to the airport with my friends, we got there so early because we were scared they were going to close the borders (which they actually announced as we went through security). We spent 4 hours in the airport before we could check in, and when we finally could we were told out flights were delayed by at least 2 hours. I honestly thought the flights would end up cancelled. I don’t think I’ve ever been so stressed in my life! We were all flying with Jet2 and earlier that day a Jet2 plane turned back on its way to Alicante, so it’s safe to say we were worried. After 9 hours in Faro airport I felt like I was going mad. The fear wasn’t gone until the plane landed in Stansted. I won’t lie the whole 48 hours was traumatic. It took a good week or so to feel settled.
A very strange end to my year abroad to say the least. I had so many places I still wanted to see and I was looking forward to making the most of the beach. I’ll have to return at some point to collect the rest of my stuff, sort out my bank account and give the school back their keys, but who knows when this will be.
But for now, here I am, nearly 8 weeks later, trying to make the most of lockdown.
Jess's year abroad blog 