Publikovaný: 06.04.2020
The third week of our quarantine brought us many twists and turns and a rollercoaster of emotions. At the beginning of the week, we were mainly concerned with one question: how long is this going to last and when can we finally fly home. The media and even the embassy itself reported a lot about successful repatriation flights from Peru, including from provinces outside of Lima. The catch: our city and region, which are a few hours away from Lima and do not have their own airport, were not mentioned at all.
At the same time, the situation in the country was slowly escalating: cars drove through the streets and sprayed houses with who-knows-what, suddenly the lines in front of the supermarket were long and the selection inside was limited, and a new curfew was issued, which assigned men and women three days of allowed outings per week and completely prohibited outings on Sundays. We also found ourselves increasingly at a loss for what to do and the mood was overall more tense. So, the feeling of needing to get out of here started to intensify.
Then, on Tuesday, we finally received a somewhat concrete email from the embassy: we should arrange our own transportation to and accommodation in Lima as quickly as possible. Only if we were in the capital could we be considered for one of the next flights. We quickly joined forces through Facebook and WhatsApp with a group of other Germans (there were a total of 13 of us). A few hours later, thanks to another German, we made contact with a tourist transport company that would provide us with a minibus and driver for a fair price. Various other logistical issues, such as accommodations and the transportation of a family from our travel group who still had to come to our city, occupied all of our attention. We were quite amazed when a plan for a joint trip on Thursday was put together on Tuesday evening.
What was still missing was a travel permit to be issued by the embassy, which would allow us to make this trip through numerous police checkpoints. To put it briefly: the next two days were nerve-wracking, frustrating, and involved many calls to the embassy. Then, on Thursday around 5 p.m., the long-awaited email finally arrived, allowing us to depart the following morning (we had already had to postpone the original plan by one day). I can't remember the last time I felt so relieved!
After quickly packing our bags, we spent the last evening in our now familiar home cozying up by the campfire with all the other hostel residents. Even though we had been looking forward to this day, saying goodbye was still a bit difficult, and it was hard to imagine not seeing the faces of the others for a very long time, maybe never again. Since we had to leave early the next morning, only two roommates (luckily) rolled out of bed to say their final goodbyes to us - it was quick and painless.
The journey to Lima went smoothly and we were only half-heartedly checked once. Why this was the case and why our experience didn't align at all with the circulating horror stories about traveling during quarantine, I have no idea. Upon arriving in Lima, we moved into a hostel room and had to sacrifice some freedoms: food was delivered from the restaurant after ordering via WhatsApp, and the common areas were completely closed. Nevertheless, we were happy for the change of scenery and had high hopes of securing a spot on the next flight to Germany on Monday (April 6th).
Our hopes were crushed when, on Saturday afternoon, excited messages started circulating on Facebook: many people in Lima had received a long-awaited email and thus had a guaranteed spot on a flight. With each passing hour, our hopes for such an email diminished and both of our moods quickly plummeted. We had really relied on this opportunity and another flight had not yet been communicated - we had no perspective. When the embassy announced around 6 p.m. that all emails had been sent... well, I probably don't need to describe how we felt.
However, there was another twist with another Facebook post from the embassy around 9 p.m.: on Tuesday, there would be a repatriation flight organized by the Swedish government, and as EU citizens, we could still purchase available seats. We quickly discussed it, looked deep into each other's eyes, and the decision was clear: we booked! The following night was restless as we waited for payment information and then for the final confirmation. On Sunday morning, after three weeks of waiting, hoping, and worrying, it was finally clear: we were flying home!