Suzanne Harrington: It would be easier to get to Papa New Guinea than from Brighton to Cork

"I've to travel with a budget airline that allows a carry-on bag the size of a pencil case, or pay the equivalent of another seat to bring a change of clothes. Pencil case it is then. I can just wear all my clothes on top of each other."

A document appears in my inbox titled ‘How To Avoid A Heart Attack At An Airport’. It has been compiled not by a government or airline or publicly funded body, but by a kindly family member recently back from Spain.

In contrast with the barrage of emails from a budget airline shouting at me daily in red underline about my forthcoming flight, it is considerably more coherent. Yet heart attack potential remains significant. Why would anyone travel in 2021, even as pandemic panic eases in some parts of the world?

Three good reasons — two family birthdays ending in a 0, and a family wedding, all in one week. The only snag is the Irish Sea between us. Still. It’s not like trying to organise travel to Papua New Guinea, is it?

How hard can it be to reach Cork from Brighton? As I idly google the capital of Papua New Guinea, it becomes apparent that getting there would probably be not that much more of a faff.

There are no handy flights from Gatwick anymore. Cheers, Covid. Flights from Heathrow will cost £500. I could probably get to Port Moresby for that.

So it’s unlovely Luton, days away by slow train, to a budget airline that allows a carry-on bag the size of a pencil case, or pay the equivalent of another seat to bring a change of clothes. Pencil case it is then. I can just wear all my clothes on top of each other.

But first, the QR codes. Not content with making us use them to order drinks and dinners in bars and restaurants so that eating out while middle aged during a pandemic becomes a squinty swear fest as you scrabble for your glasses while trying to read the teeny weeny menu font, while accidentally hitting add-to-basket so that eight plates of chips and a crème de menthe arrive at your table when all you wanted was a bloody coffee — now we have to QR code ourselves onto a plane too.

Passenger Locator Forms, Digital Covid Certs, antigen tests, and arbitrary rules and requirements that nobody understands, which change weekly, daily, hourly, and are either over- or under-implemented, depending on the country, the airport, the airline, and the blood sugar levels of the person at the desk.

It’s almost as if we have never lived through a global pandemic before, and are making it up as we go along.

Before I set off, I have to film myself shouting random numbers into my laptop camera from a code sent to my phone, so that the NHS can verify that yes I am me, and vaccinated; I will then upload the verification QR to my phone to show the airline person, who I hope will have had a good breakfast before heading to work that morning. And that there’s a working defibrillator in departures area.

I wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to kayak from Fishguard.

Happy birthday, fam!