This August, my son William turns forty and he’s having a party. His brothers, keen to share in the occasion, were faced with the logistical challenges (and costs) of getting to the event……in Canada……in a pandemic. Solution? Club together to send Mum. And here I am, bless their dear hearts!
It was touch-and-go whether I’d get here given the red tape involved. As all but essential travel out of the UK into Canada was banned by the FCDO I had to meet various criteria for exemption. I had to be double-vaccinated and have proof of a close relationship with a Canadian citizen. Wanting the visit to be a birthday surprise for William, my sister, who has lived in Canada for many years, went through the rigmarole of providing a legally witnessed declaration to prove our sisterhood. Being able to get insurance, however, was looking highly unlikely.
We did eventually find an insurer (with an exclusion for anything Covid related) and started feeling optimistic about the plan working. For weeks we studied the changing picture on the UK and Canadian government websites and ticked off each bureaucratic requirement as we met it. Then western Canada was hit by a heatwave, the likes of which they’ve never had before and British Columbia, where my Canadian kin live, was bursting into flame. My sister was sending pictures of their town, Kamloops, ringed in burning forest, with news that one of its neighbouring towns had been completely burned out. Her family are all in the fire-fighting business, so it was a tense time. My son and his partner, Izzy were also (they still are, in fact) evacuation prepared, though living lake-side is something of a saving grace. Now that I’ve become temporarily resident in their property, however, I can see how vulnerable it is, being set in woodland like most homes are here. Wildfires are not unusual of course, but they are becoming more frequent and widespread as the climate warms. A couple of days before I arrived the map showing wildfire and smoke presented a dire picture. I lucked out as the air cleared in time for me to make the flight! My sister had told me that flying in smoke is no fun and being a rather nervous flyer, I was losing sleep about it.
Throughout the preparations for my visit, Izzy and I had fun colluding on Messenger about how to surprise William. However, as my Canadian niece Holly pointed out, William would need some notice in order to arrange time off from work to spend with me, so we decided to tell him, and it’s just as well we did. I was already braced for the possibility of being refused entry by border staff regardless of having the right paperwork and if I hadn’t, as a back up, got a copy of William’s Canadian passport and his birth certificate I may well have been turned back. The border guard in Vancouver only accepted me on the basis of having a son in Canada. The connection with my sister wasn’t enough for him!
I’ve been wondering whether and how many people were turned away by the border guards, either before boarding at Heathrow or on arrival in Vancouver. Travelling on the 9th of August just days after restrictions on travel were lifted, I was surprised at the number of people who had jumped on the opportunity. I was also surprised, like most of the passengers going through border controls with me in Vancouver, to be subjected to a Covid test, in spite of having my UK proof of a negative PCR test result as required before leaving the UK. Some of my fellow travellers became very vocal in their objections to another test, given the Canadian government’s own travel advisory that mandatory arrival testing had been suspended.
But I got in, and arriving in Kamloops airport after 24 hours travelling the sight of my dear boy in the flesh, instead of on a video call, filled my heart and my eyes.
How easily we all took for granted the freedoms of our time pre-Covid, freedoms which have now, for the most part, been taken away in the cause of fighting a virus. It gives me pause for thought for sure. I have, as a utilitarian, complied with being vaccinated, in spite of my misgivings, worn a mask as a courtesy to others, exercised rigorous hand hygiene and maintained social distances in public places. Now, there is a feeling of things returning to normal and, like childbirth, the pain of the pandemic is being forgotten, lockdowns just a gap in one’s memories. And yet there are reminders. Many are still choosing to wear a mask and back home in Wales it is still mandatory to wear one in shops. I was reminded by an email from the Canadian government that I might be checked up on in spite of my airport test results coming back negative. I am not entirely free to wander at will here; my son having to account for where I might be if necessary. Freedom is a tenuous concept.
The last couple of days have been filled with smoke and the beautiful Shuswap lake in front of me has disappeared from view. Eyes prickle and chests suffer from the effect, like when sitting by a campfire. When the air clears a bit in this popular holiday destination people around here are trying hard to play and party in their speedboats and houseboats. But these continue to be strange times.
 |
| The beautiful Shuswap lake |
Shrouded in smoke
I am delighted to be here, though, hanging out with my son, his lady and their four Maine Coon cats, lunching and planning adventures with my sister and generally just ‘being’ in every moment. It’s a beautiful world, inhabited by beautiful, precious creatures. My love for it and all within it is boundless. I call to those with vested interests in fossil-fuel-hungry enterprises to love it too. Nature is doing its best to wake us up to our fragile hold on existence, so let’s not act like sulky sleepy teenagers refusing to get up for school.
 |
| The Shuswap tree |
Post-script:
I’d love if my readers could subscribe to my blog and even comment if you feel moved to. I don’t intend to monetise the blog but in my own little way I am trying to provoke discussion of the things that should matter to all of us. By subscribing and sharing it might happen that the conversation will widen out. I don’t want to be too evangelical, but as I’m sure you’re aware if you’ve read much of my blog, I am concerned about what we are doing to the planet and each other. Take a look at this from Global Optimism:
The #IPCC #ClimateReport is the final alarm bell. Scientists are 'yelling from the rooftops'.
#OutrageAndOptimism brings a special analysis of the report with Michael E. Mann, looking at what is still possible if we all take decisive action in a narrowing window of opportunity.
Tune in: https://bit.ly/2VJwc1j
No comments:
Post a Comment