Part 2: Day 1: On the Bus! (or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Come Up With a Coherent Numbering System)

When we last checked in with our plucky, tired, still somewhat hungover hero (that's me!) he was being ushered through Passport control and Customs at Adelaide Airport. The process is still pretty much the same here, everyone was lovely, apart from the person at the passport desk - but I'm pretty sure being a bit terse and brisk is a job requirement for that role; I've never handed my passport over to someone who made me feel welcome or relaxed, no matter which country I've just flown into.

A quick briefing from an AFP officer before being sat down to wait for the bus replaced the normal walk out of the Arrival gate to the warm embrace of family and friends that would normally come at this point in a return home story. I was lucky enough to be last in line for what I think may have been the first bus to leave, so I got a bit of time to stand in the morning air and try and get my bearings in the forecourt of the new Airport renovations. (It looks good by the way, I can't wait to properly get to use it). It was at about this time I realised just how light I am able to pack when travelling - watching everyone push trolleys worth of luggage around, I couldn't help but keep thinking I'd forgotten something, with just my backpack and wheelie suitcase in tow.

Thank god for Vac-Pack, somehow I jammed my life in just this bag.

Guys in PPE were tasked with Tetris-ing everyone's bag's into the hold of the coach, and everyone hopped on board. As we left the airport, someone's family was standing out on Sir Donal Bradman Drive waving an Aussie flag and waving as the bus went past. I hope that whoever this gesture was meant for got to see it, because it sure gave me the warm and fuzzies as we set off towards the City.

 

It's the little things that
let you know you're home

Even in Rush Hour  (I use the term loosely) morning traffic, we made it into the city quite quickly, and begun the game of guessing which hotel we would end up at. I think everyone heading to Adelaide has their fingers crossed for the Pullman, with its balconies and view over Emo Square (90's kids who went to high school in the city, where you at!?), but as we headed further North up King William and turned onto Hindley Street, it became obvious that we were heading the the Hotel Grand Chancellor. As far as I have been able to gather, the other possible options in Adelaide are the Playford or Peppers on Waymouth. That might be out of date, or just plain wrong, but that's half the fun.

As we pulled up out the front of the hotel (side note - we must have been blocking traffic on Hindley for quite a while, so sorry I guess?), The hotel manager, Tony (Hi Tony!), jumped on board to welcome and brief us, while our baggage was disgorged from the bus into the forecourt. Some slightly panicked radio chatter between buses revealed the head count was off by one - had someone managed to sneak out past security at the airport?! No, just a small child had fallen asleep in the back and couldn't be seen from the front of the bus. 

Being last on the bus, I was seated near the front (hot tip there!) so was one of the first to disembark. I was greeted by quite the crowd of staff and police, who hustled to help me collect my bags from a safe distance. While I appreciate the help, the pressure of trying to find my bag while everyone stared at me and asked me which one it was ("the black one" was my ever-so-helpful reply) just kinda stressed me out. Once I found my bag ("Just that one?" was the incredulous response from the porter waiting to help me with a trolley) I headed inside.

I was handed an envelope with my pre-assigned room number on it; it felt just like grabbing your name tag at a corporate event, and then was ushered over to a desk where SAPOL officers checked my identity against my passport (A driver's licence is fine at this step too, just make sure you've got something handy).  I was then ushered over to wait for an escort to head up to my room. A quick elevator ride up, a bit of chat (my banter is on point when I've been awake for 48 hours and am being herded around like cattle btw) and a last bit of briefing, I was ushered into my room and the door closed behind me.

The plane landed just after 7am, and I was in my room by 9, so the process is quite quick and efficient, even if it felt like a bit longer to my sleep deprived and muddy brain. I had been told that someone would call up in the next couple of hours for a quick briefing, and there was some welcome info in the envelope I had been given in the lobby. (I've attached pics at the bottom of this post for anyone curious)

As much as I wanted to have an hour long shower and then curl up in bed, my mission for this first day was to stay awake as long as possible. A lifetime of incredibly unhealthy sleeping patterns (Adelaide Hospo crew, where you at?!) does seem to have given me a certain resilience to jet lag (some may call it a superpower, others may call it a very broken circadian rhythm), but going to bed at 10 in the morning was definitely not going to help the situation. So instead I spent the morning unpacking my bag as much as I could be bothered to, exploring the few drawers and cubbies around the room and trying to set up something of a work space.

The room is quite nice - I am in one the corner rooms with a large wrap around window, so a lot of natural light through the day. Everything was clean and tidy when I arrived (as you'd expect, but apparently cannot be taken for granted by some accounts from others heading into quarantine elsewhere). If I had my pick, I'd like a smart TV (more on that in the future), but the setup is satisfactory, and the inhouse movie system is complimentary for the duration of the stay, with a decent selection to choose from, as well as a few Foxtel channels to supplement the regular TV service.

Real crockery and cutlery are provided, along with real glasses, bottle opener, tea and coffee, milk and a kettle. A mini fridge is provided, but no price-gouging mini bar items, which is nice. (there is a decently priced wine and beer list available for order though). The bathroom is nicely appointed and spacious, and big bottles of shampoo and conditioner are provided, with should more than last the stay. Soap is in typical hotel style bars though, so if you have supple delicate skin like me, it's worth getting some decent body wash dropped off.

Reeeeal funny, mum. Thanks.

A cleaning kit with some spray and wipe, dishwashing liquid, chux, a tea towel and garbage bags is all provided as well as some laundry detergent, which is going to be interesting to try and use to say the least... Heaps of towels, extra linen and an iron and ironing board are all typically dotted around the room. The only major thing missing is any type of cooking appliance - a microwave is the only thing allowed if you're so inclined to order one, but needs to be brand new in the box to comply with the hotel's test and tag procedure.

The big issue, and the question I know is on your mind, dear reader, is whether the windows open. And the answer is yes... kinda. 

Depends if you count this as an open window

Anyway, after a call from reception to double check I am who I say I am, and that I understand I can't leave my room (What do you mean? Nobody told me that!), as well as if I have any dietary requirements or special needs (thankfully, no), it was almost time for lunch. Anybody who read my previous post will know that by this point I was pretty excited to find out what we were having, and was informed by Tony (hi, Tony!) on the Private Facebook Group for everyone quarantining in the hotel that it would be a Vegan Chickpea Curry. My heart sank a little at the news.

There was a knock at the door just after 12.30, and a brown paper bag was sitting in front of it, like Moses in the reeds. Meals are served in (hopefully recyclable) paper clamshells, and lunch comes with a bottle of water and something snacky on the side (I forgot to take a photo of everything else, and was so tired I honestly don't remember what else came with this one). My apprehension at what could have been a very bland and disappointing first-quarantine-food experience was misplaced however; it was a pretty tasty little curry. It was obviously very mild, totally fair considering the menu is set for everyone (excluding those with dietaries) across the hotel, but still nice and filling.

I finally gave in to my screaming body and allowed myself to have a nap after lunch. I woke up after a couple of hours to a knock on the door, and was greeted with a couple of nurses menacingly waving a swab at me (they were honestly lovely, a swab that you know is about to be stuck halfway into your brain will always look menacing after waking up from a nap). This was my first experience with a COVID swab test (maybe some more on my experiences - or lack thereof - with COVID testing in the future), so as much as I wasn't looking forward to it, I was genuinely curious how it would go. 

The swab is first stuck down your throat, coming dangerously close to activating my gag reflex, and then it makes its way up your nose - way further than I thought it would, and then is out. It sucks but isn't the worst thing in the world ("You're allowed to cry if you want" one nurse said, just before my sinuses caught up to the assault they'd undergone and my eyes welled up like I was watching the end of Infinity War again (I don't wanna go, Mr Stark!)). As the nurses left, my phone rang and another nurse ran through some checks and confirmed my details. 

I got a couple of care packages from friends working in the city through the day, and the process is pretty easy and quick. They were able to just drop it off at the front counter, quoting my name and room number, and they were brought up and dropped in front of my door by a staff member. Both friends remarked on how quickly they made their way up to me after they had dropped them off, so no complaints there.

Then it was dinner time, and we were treated to a pretty great Spaghetti Bolognese, and the garlic-est garlic bread I've eaten in a while.

I heard you like garlic on your garlic bread,
so I've loaded your garlic bread with
SO MUCH GARLIC 

I conceded defeat at about 8 o'clock and crawled into bed, to one of the weirdest night's sleep I've ever had. A combination of sleep deprivation, pretty heightened emotions on returning home and being in a unprecedented and weird scenario led to some of the strangest and most vivid dreams I think I've ever had. The garlic probably didn't help either.