Festive Alternative: Part 1

courtesy of Le Soir

The week before mum’s scheduled festive visit, she and I are in more regular communication than is our habit. We’re keeping each other abreast of any COVID-related changes to travel on either side of the Channel. Apart from the usual discretionary advice and possible quarantine measures, there aren’t any major upsets. No news is good news. Up until Saturday 19 December. Three days until mum’s series of Continental firsts. Her first time taking the Eurostar (she always came to Strasbourg by plane). Her first visit to Belgium...

At this stage, although my optimism remains cautious, our every-other-day updates are beginning to feel academic. That is until mum mentions rumours of a new tier of restrictions will be introduced by the UK government. The latest mutation of the virus is raging through Southern England and likely elsewhere. After weeks of dismissing the threat, Bojo is feeling the pressure to ‘cancel Christmas’ after all.

I have not been aware of this latest development. By the time mum informs me, the measures are already in place. I immediately start a panicked search of how this affects travel plans. Whether it’s the official UK government website or ITV news, it doesn’t look good. I make several update calls to mum. Eventually, the news gets too depressing. It’s late. I don’t want to keep disturbing her.

I weep tears of bitter disappointment. It’s official. I won’t have seen any of my UK-based loved ones in the flesh for the whole of 2020. I’m overcome with a strange Coronavirus-state of déjà-vu. Nine months earlier almost to the day, back in Strasbourg one anxious weekend, I was hunched over in tears days before the first wave of lockdowns and border closures disrupted all travel plans.

Saturday into Sunday, I fall into a fitful sleep; even more than usual. I wake up a little less distressed in the morning. Maybe there’s a way mum can still travel. She should at least show up at St. Pancras station on Tuesday and see what happens. I phone mum to share my thoughts. She is up for that idea. She has already completed the requisite Passenger Locator Form. There's nothing outright precluding travel thus far. The app even wishes her 'a good trip’. According to the Eurostar website, their trains are still in operation (most likely for those permitted to travel for professional purposes). 

However, by the middle of the day, successive European countries start to close their borders to Blighty. Belgium is one of the first amongst them. At this point, I’m starting to make peace with it all. It wouldn't be my first solo Christmas. However, at least I had some illusion of control over the situation the last time. 

Mum is way ahead of me. Even before news of the travel bans, she’s already decided it’s better to postpone. It’ll be less stressed, she explains. If she could visit, she’d almost definitely be subject to quarantine. The Belgian authorities have announced they are stepping up the monitoring process. I wouldn’t want mum to be effectively under house arrest. She says she wouldn’t mind being home all day. It would be a shame, nevertheless. For her to come to the City and not see any of it, even with the current restrictions. No twilight strolls admiring the luminous Christmas decorations...

You like to play by the rules, she reminds me, it won't be worth compromising.

Besides, she’ll be able to take longer leave in the New Year. There'll be less demand from other colleagues.

It's futile to fight it. Even if we didn’t both come to terms with the changes, the decision is taken squarely out of our hands when Eurostar cancels her train. I’ll have to wait longer to enjoy mum’s company and all the other knick-knacks I miss from the UK; either not available in Brussels or extortionately-priced.

Bloody 2020. It’s been that sort of year. Might as well finish as it went on; in solitary mode. 

Soundtrack: Personal Christmas Collection and Best of ...2017 Part 1 & 2