So by now, you realise that I was forced to travel during a time where everyone has to stay put. “I fear no man, but this, it scares me.” Or something along those lines.
I was legitimately fearful- not for me, but for the family members back home, who had been heeding the instruction to stay indoors, to sanitise, to protect themselves. And here I was, crossing continents, crossing paths with people of concern, and left to my own devices to protect myself. So I took every precaution imaginable.
I prayed 2 rakaats of salatul hajaat before I left the viral hotspot.
I packed my own food, I was not going to trust airport food or onboard dining to be sanitary. Most places in Dubai airport would be closed anyway, and the food onboard limited as well.
I donned my Personal Protection Equipment, from toe to forehead, I was covered in polyester material, the type that makes swishing sounds with every limb movement.
I wore an N95 respirator- with a secondary surgical mask as an extra barrier. I wore glasses- so I could see the terminal, but more so I would protect my eyes. And then I set out, on a journey that usually takes 10 hours, now taking 30.
30 hours, shielded from the world.
This would be a journey.
A journey of a lifetime.
(part 2 coming soon!)
The empty airport:
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