In the hiatus that was COVID lockdown, the novelty of “staying put” had a peculiar grace and delight. To limit one’s trajectory to five kilometres meant homing in on the small and the local: the seasonal repetitions of a plant blossoming in a neighbour’s garden, new pale green leaves on trees, a smell of liquorice in the air heralding summer. I looked closer at the local and saw new things, or perhaps I saw old things with new eyes.
But with the reopening of airports – even in the face of inflated fares – I was planning my escape routes immediately. Carbon footprint aside: since COVID, I have been to France twice, to Italy, to Spain, to England, to Greece, to California, and to Indonesia, not to mention Adelaide, the Sunshine Coast and the Gold Coast.
