Post Vaccine Aloha
Heading out the door this morning with my dog Nola to take the same walk we’ve been taking for a year, I didn’t reach for my mask. There was no reason to handle my walk differently but I guess it’s just the routine you fall back into immediately on return from vacation. It struck me as strange because less than 24 hours before I was grabbing a mask to cover up for even the smallest outdoor task — walking outside, ordering food, even getting ice two rooms down the hall. I was in what, if not the most restrictive place in the U.S., was certainly the most serious place I’d seen handling coronavirus restrictions. We landed back in Tampa, Florida from our trip to Kona, Hawaii where I watched the gulf water turn to sandy coastline and plopped right back into our weird state of contradictions.
Returning to Florida fresh on the heels of the CDC’s recommendation that fully vaccinated people could go without masks made for a starker contrast than the difference in beaches. We found a few travelers in the Tampa airport in line without masks although they were still a small minority. When we left Hawaii we had only been without masks in our hotel room , rental car, sitting down at dinner, swimming, or if we found ourselves alone on a trail. Both states have plenty of outdoor activities and it was a little strange to see Hawaii adhere to the mask rules so tightly outside. With no real support for outdoor transmission it was a relief to hear the CDC’s announcement while we were away, but we didn’t see an immediate change while on our trip. Hawaii will now face serious pressure to lessen restrictions with so much of its economy based on tourism — 20% of the jobs supported tourism in Hawaii pre-Covid according to the Hawaii Tourism Authority.
We’d started planning a trip only a few weeks prior — a very short timeline for such a huge trip. We had dreamed of going to Hawaii for years, but had never thought it would happen this way. We’d discussed our post-vaccine escape for the last month or so when we realized that our vaccines were going to permit us access to planes and places that we had never visited before. Living in Florida, we had focused on nearby typical escapes: the Caribbean, Mexico, some sort of resort or getaway to shake off the last year of sheltering in place and trying to keep our aging parents safe. At some point our internet searches turned up a Hawaii package that was in the same price range we’d targeted. The idea of escaping to Hawaii — no international travel required for this island paradise — with unbelievable beaches, waterfalls, not to mention all of the pop culture touchstones like tiki drinks and Elvis at the hukilau was irresistible.
Planning a trip to Hawaii in the time of Covid-19 was more complicated than picking a flight and hotel package. There were mentions of special restrictions on flights to Hawaii so it seemed more research was needed. A few quick internet searches and you’re directed to the Hawaii Safe Travel site which details all of the specifics and after you create an account it is used to communicate each traveler’s status throughout the trip. As a recently vaccinated traveler it was a little frustrating to see that everyone is required to be tested, but testing was pretty common this year so what’s a bit more hassle? Then you read deeper about the testing required and learn that Hawaii is only working with specific testing partners across the U.S. In Florida that means you’re pretty much stuck with paying CVS $139 a piece to get the test. Additionally it isn’t the rapid test, Hawaii only accepts the NAAT test which takes 1–2 days to turnaround. To complicate matters further, if you don’t get your test results back before your flight to Hawaii leaves you will get quarantined for 10 days in your hotel. If you are only there for 5 days and you don’t have an ocean view, that would make for a sad extension of last year’s endless Netflix binge sandwiched with a day long plane ride on either side.
Even after reading all of this, the deals were just too good and the desire to go anywhere exotic after wearing a path around my block were just too much. After a few beers on a late night internet search, I settled on a date and destination. The Big Island, Hawai’i, was the place to go after lots of back and forth. Honolulu was a big city and would still be crowded and everyone we knew said the Big Island was so amazing. It’s got a volcano and something like 10 of the 14 designated climate zones. I can be in a continuously tropical wet climate at breakfast and easily reach a hot desert before lunch! Also, it’s got the only active volcano and even though there’s no shoe melting lava walks to be had, it should still be bucket list good. So for things to see, pricing, and the ability to get a direct flight from the mainland — the Big Island it was. Three weeks out I booked the tickets and then started hitting Amazon for snorkels, water shoes, and whatever kind of reef protector sunscreen is accepted on the island.
Two weeks out, it was time to look for appointments for the Covid tests. We saw that we could book them at CVS and since our flight was Wednesday, we were looking at Sunday/Monday. It started to set in that we needed some very precise math and we worked it out like a 6th grade story problem from Ms. Myers class. The Hawaii government was very specific that the test had to be taken within 3 days of the departing flight to Kona. Our flight left Tampa at 8:30 am but our connection didn’t leave Seattle until 2:05 Seattle time which would be + 3 hours or 5:05 Tampa time. There are no appointments for testing after 4:00 on Sunday so we realized we had just cut our window by 18 hours if we couldn’t get tested until Monday morning. We booked our tests online about a week out and anxiously researched average turn times. CVS assured us that testing takes 1–2 days with most getting back the day after. So now we realized we’d get tested Monday morning and if our tests took 2 days, we’d be on the first flight before we even knew if we were negative. It also didn’t help that the drop off tech at the pharmacy said it might take up to 4 days if they’re busy!
A few more restless nights and it was time to do the final packing. It was the night before leaving and we’d planned to be out the door by 6 am to get to the airport in plenty of time to park and deal with any lines. As I stumbled into the bathroom to brush my teeth at 5:32, my travel partner ran past me with phone in hand announcing that her test had come in at 3:37 am and she was negative! As I foggily cranked up my laptop and the cheap office printer (because they recommend printing out your results in addition to uploading them to the travel site) I searched my emails but saw nothing. My test had been 20 minutes after hers and surely would have been next in line right? I showered, packed the toothbrush and was wrapping up my prep in the bathroom when I got test — “Your rest result is ready. To view it go to bla01bla02link.com” I rushed over to the laptop, logged in, and at 5:50 sent my pdf of negative results to the printer. It was exactly the kind of travel luck I was hoping for our post-vax trip.
Passports, printouts, phones, and vaccine cards in hand we headed to the airport and everything was smooth. Good seats on the plane, plenty of movies to watch, and we were headed to paradise. When we finally started our approach to Kona we were amazed at the barren scrubby landscape out our window. On the west side of the Big Island, Kona appeared dry and black with huge swaths of chunky lava rock spotted by tiny brown grass sprouts. We weren’t greeted with leis but we did cross the tarmac into an open air gate area that was adorably old-fashioned with its brown squatty buildings. We were instead greeted with Hawaiian styled signs asking everyone to “Spread Aloha, Not Covid”. Everyone was wearing masks and we were outside? We wound through lines looking for the predicted long lines of interviews where we’d have to display all of our test results and endure grueling questions about our pre-flight behavior. Then we came up to a desk, no line and the masked woman at the desk asked to see our QR codes from the travel website. She scanned them and asked if we were vaccinated. We said yes, and she said “ok, go out that way” and she motioned to a sign pointing out… That was it? After all of that testing and anxious waiting and we can just go?! We hustled out of there and found our rental shuttle in a blur before we headed to our hotel in a travel jet lag haze.
After all of this prep and anxiety, what was it like to actually be in Hawaii during a pandemic? We learned from the first moment that everyone is expected to wear a mask — all the time. You put your mask on to get out of the car at the volcano, you put it on to get gas, you even put it on when you get out of the pool and go to the pool bar to order a drink. They were strict and not bashful about telling us to wear them. Funny enough, we didn’t need much reminding. After wearing masks non-stop on the plane and then seeing everyone else wearing them everywhere, it was really clear the message was “we are all in this together”.
Traveling around the island, we found the consistently masked locals to be friendly and helpful. Quick to point us to a bathroom or restaurant that wasn’t closed as there were many recently shuttered businesses everywhere we went. There were numerous small shops closed and real estate rental signs in front of storefronts that likely did just fine on drive by traffic two years ago. Most of the other tourists kept to themselves although we got some chatting at restaurant bars or by the pool when the masks were dropped. We had a nice long talk with our taxi driver from the airport when we realized that there were no Ubers to be found and he was happy enough to pick us up later with a phone call. After all of the divisive rhetoric and arguing from strangers and neighbors over the last year, this was the most welcome fresh air in Hawaii. On an isolated island with a population of less than 200,000, when someone gets sick, that person is not a stranger, they are someone’s grandparent or friend. In between local Hawaiian music, we were inundated with radio messages and news stories about testing and vaccines. There is a reason that Hawaii has had such low rates of infection and deaths, but it didn’t feel like it came from a place of fear. I’d like to think the commitment to one another came from the word that Hawaiians use for many things including warmth and kindness — the feeling of Aloha.
Find more photos of the trip @travellingchas on Instagram