Publisert: 14.04.2020
In my last post, I promised to tell you about how the early return went. Pretty turbulent, I would say. Once the decision was made, we had to choose one of the few remaining flights. We had a whole day to arrange everything. For me, there weren't many options anyway, since the last affordable flight to Dusseldorf was no longer available. So I decided to fly to Frankfurt. Unfortunately, there were no direct flights from Cagliari to Germany, so we all had to fly via Rome. For my friends who had to go to Munich with several others, the connecting flight was only a short time later. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait alone, I had to kill 8 hours at the airport in Rome. But more on that later.
So we tried to book the flights directly with the airline and get everything done. Everything went well until the last booking step, but then it said: Please wait until the process is complete and do not leave the page. After three quarters of an hour, we saw the same image over and over again and decided to call the airline. Thankfully, a friend of ours took on the job, who speaks Italian very well. She also waited in the queue for at least another half an hour, only to be told that they seem to have a problem with the server. We slowly but surely started to panic, because there was not much time left and we still had other things to organize. We had no choice but to wait and tackle other things.
So we filled out a long application that brought us the confirmation from the regional president to leave the island. Fortunately, there were no problems and we had the approval within minutes. Then it was a matter of ordering a taxi, as the flight to Rome was at 6:30 a.m. We needed 3 taxis because there were six of us and only 2 people were allowed in one taxi. So we ordered 3 taxis for 4 a.m. and tried to book the flights again. This time it worked and the relief was evident on all of our faces. Afterwards, we searched for face masks. As expected, all masks on the island were sold out, so we started making our own masks out of sandwich paper and hair bands.
Now I just had to figure out who would pick me up from Frankfurt and where I could stay and how to do a voluntary quarantine. I had already given up my shared room in the student dormitory, so I could only go back to my parents. But they should not be exposed to the virus under any circumstances, so my friend offered to pick me up and then go into quarantine with me for 2 weeks. That was settled. The only thing left to do now was pack my bags.
Now, on to the exciting day of departure. The taxis picked us up on time and dropped us off at the empty airport in Cagliari early in the morning. After a short wait, we were able to check in our luggage. Here we had to show the approval from the regional president for the first time. Without it, it seemed that nothing could be done. When we then lifted our suitcases onto the baggage conveyor belt, we got a short shock. We were all clearly over 23kg. I wondered how that could happen, because I had arrived with 20kg and now had 29kg. But nevermind, luckily we didn't have to pay extra. Probably because there were fewer passengers than usual. Relieved, we strolled into the waiting area to finish drinking the last bottles of water before the security check. We thought it wouldn't be very crowded anyway.
When we arrived at the controls, there was already a long line waiting for us. Only one control band was open. But before we were allowed to be checked, we had to fill out another form. It was of course in Italian and no one, including the other passengers, knew what to do. The papers were scattered on tables, hardly anyone had a pen with them, and the required minimum distance had long since ceased to exist. Hectically, we filled out the form and got in line. At that point, I already realized that it could be tight. Because only one person was allowed to put their belongings on the conveyor belt and only when that person had completed the entire process, could the next person start. When we finally thought it was our turn, the crew for our flight arrived and was waved through. So we had to wait until all the crew members had finished their checks as well. Before I could go through the control myself, I had to show the approval from the regional president again and the pre-filled form. Since I knew that time was getting tighter and tighter until departure, my stress level kept rising. When I had gathered my things again, I was checked by the police again. Can you guess three times what I had to show? Exactly, the approval from the regional president and the form. After a few language barriers, because English is difficult of course, I finally got through with everything.
When I arrived in the gate area, a friend called out to me that the last call had already been announced. Completely surprised, I tried to inform the others. They were still in the restroom, as all restrooms outside the gates were locked. Unfortunately, there were no announcements, so a friend of ours, who was still at the control, had no idea. Together with a friend, I ran to the gate so that we could let them know that the others would arrive in 2 minutes. The flight attendant simply said, "No, it doesn't matter, it's too late, we're closing the gate." Shocked by the unfriendly response, I ran to the plane. I rarely felt so panicked that the others wouldn't make it. Especially because of our friend who was still stuck at the controls. Completely stressed, we waited in front of the plane for the others, who came running. In all the excitement, I had forgotten to put on the homemade mask and when I boarded the plane, the flight attendant looked at me as if I were from another planet. I quickly put on the mask and wondered afterwards why all the other passengers had been given a mask during boarding, except me. Well, the relief of actually having made it was huge.
There were only a few people on the plane and no one was allowed to sit next to each other. Everyone was wearing a mask and the tension was palpable. The flight went by quickly and when we arrived in Rome, everything went according to plan. It was strange to see how many people still had to go somewhere. Fortunately, the waiting time passed quickly as we had slept most of the time anyway. At 3:30 p.m., it was time to say: Ciao Italy, hello Germany. Completely exhausted, we arrived in Frankfurt at 5:30 p.m. I was so relieved that I didn't have to take the train any further. A 3-hour car ride and I was back in Bielefeld. Hard to believe.
I could tell you so much more about the return journey, but this entry should give you a small impression. Now, several weeks later, I can say that we made the right decision, even though it meant the end of our semester abroad.