My experience flying from Detroit to Bangkok in March 2021

Just before the pandemic brought the world to a halt, I was sitting in my Chicago dorm planning a semester-long study abroad trip to Morocco. In the 14 months since that plan fell apart and the world stopped, I have dreamt up dozens of trips. Portugal, Peru, India, Turkey, South Korea, all ultimately rendered un-feasible for one reason or another (COVID numbers spiking, ethical concerns, government coups, etc.) Despite the repeated failure, I couldn’t scratch the itch to do something more fulfilling with my time than attending Zoom university. I had already taken the semester off with no real plan, but had managed to convince myself and everyone around me that I was going to travel, one way or another.

Ultimately, I decided on Bangkok. Thailand was one of the few countries letting Americans in at the time and on all counts, looked like an ethical choice. I figured I would hop on a plane and figure out what I was doing when I got there. It turned out to not be that simple. I had to acquire a special visa, COVID insurance, and a two week reservation at a quarantine hotel. I spent the month of February going through the bureaucratic wringer, painfully slowed by the realities of COVID. I hadn’t even left and my savings were being chipped away at trying to acquire all the necessary documents.

With no guarantee that any of this would work out I refrained from getting excited until my passport, newly adorned with a Thai visa, was in my hands. 

Exactly one week later I was flying out of Detroit, no plan, no partner, only an AirBnB booking, some COVID antibodies in my blood, and a vague sense of what I wanted.

Flying

DTW → ORD → DOH → BKK

Total travel time: 30 hrs

Of all the international travel I’ve done, this was my favorite. I know, flying during a pandemic...not ideal. But hear me out. Empty airports, empty flights, unbelievably fast security check, personal space. It was my most relaxing flying experience till date.

The singular point of anxiety was that I would have some issue with one of the dozen documents I acquired to be able to enter Thailand. I watched as people around me were denied boarding for one reason or another, and was certain it would happen to me too. My documents were checked no less than 10 times across four airports, and miraculously, they kept letting me through.

My flight from Detroit to Chicago was full. After spending a year avoiding crowds and indoor spaces, being inside a tiny aircraft packed with people sitting shoulder to shoulder felt wrong. I struck up a conversation with the girl sitting next to me. The “how has COVID been for you?” conversation which had become the default between strangers.

The flight from Chicago to Doha was a lot less crowded. Every row had at least one empty seat, and when I reached mine I was met with the same girl I had spent the previous flight with. With the empty seat between us, we spent the 14 hour flight stretched out, enjoying the luxuries of Qatar Airways. Along with the usual hot towel and crappy headphones, each passenger also got a “protective kit” that included masks, hand sanitizer, and gloves.

The final flight from Doha to Bangkok couldn’t have had more than 80 people on it. For the first time in my life, I got to put the handrests up and lay down over three whole seats.

Arriving

After landing in Bangkok, the passengers were immediately greeted by a team of people covered head to toe in PPE. Masks, face shields, gloves, hairnets, biohazard gowns, shoe covers all obscuring them so that each was indistinguishable from the next. Everyone from the flight was herded through a very specific route that led to rows of chairs spaced exactly six feet apart. Here, a team of PPE’d staff was waiting to scrutinize every single document of each passenger. The process took nearly 30 minutes after which small groups of people were escorted onwards to ensure social distancing. I was led through a meticulously sectioned off area, where my temperature and documents were re-confirmed repeatedly.

After getting through immigration and luggage claim, I was met with yet another PPE’d person. She was waiting with a clipboard to confirm which quarantine hotel I was going to, and called over a representative from that hotel to collect me. I felt like a sheep, being handed off from one masked person to another. I was finally taken out of the airport where my luggage was loaded into a car. Pictures were taken of me, of the driver, and of the car and sent to the hotel. I have to assume it was a safety precaution, a way to maintain the chain of custody until my ultimate arrival at the quarantine hotel.

The process was arduous, and admittedly efficient. There were no gaps or open spaces, no opportunities for me to spread COVID if I had it. Every person I interacted with was friendly and quick with what they were doing. The whole mechanism was mind-blowingly tight and I was left thoroughly impressed once I had the opportunity to process all that had happened.

On the hour-long drive to the quarantine hotel, the reality of my situation dawned on me for the first time. I had spent so much time, money, and effort to reach that car that I hadn’t considered what this trip meant. But driving out of the airport, watching Bangkok unfold in front of my eyes for the first time, I felt the possibilities lift the weight of the past year off my chest. I had escaped the suburban Midwest, and the sight of tall buildings and obstinate traffic put me at ease. I had no idea what was waiting for me at the quarantine hotel, but my excitement knew no limits.