DAY 0: Have wings, gotta fly!

Two years ago, in March 2020, I had to cancel a to-the-tee-planned holiday to Cambodia and Vietnam. Because, stupid Covid. And then 6 months ago I cancelled birthday-gift-to-myself holiday to Pondicherry. Because, second wave of stupid Covid.

I was in isolation for CoVid in February, when the email from Schauspielhaus Graz had appeared in my inbox. It was about their annual international theatre festival in June. They wanted permission to perform my play. Yay, I did a jig. And they wanted to host me atvthe festival. I stopped mid-jig. No way! The virus was probably affecting my eyes and the isolation had taken over my mind. I sent a snapshot of the email to my brother with a message - Am I reading this right? 

Whoa, he pinged back.

For once I was glad he is a man of few words, I don't think I could have processed more.

I allowed myself another little dance before memories of cancelled bookings of last two years hit the stop button on the music in my head. Don't believe it till the flight takes off, I told myself. With you on it, I emphasized.

Over many emails to and fro, the details for my visit are finalized. I add a few days of travel to the week of theatre tripping. The day approaches closer but I hesitate to draw out my itinerary.  But, then chide myself for being a toddler and start off. First, research and plan. Scratch the plan. Research again and re-plan. FOMO usually has me cramming my days with all possible - the tourist stuff and off the track stuff. This time, I settle on a slow travel itinerary. Some must-see places, a few local experiences and many, many hours with a book on the hillside or by Hallstadt See. VIsa, check. Forex, check. Bookings, check. No theplas, check. The tick marks appear alongside the boxes, and I start to breathe easy.

Travelling anywhere, acquaintances ask.
Austria, I say. Till a few days ago, I had taken refuge in the Indian nod and shifty feet.

And then 3-4 days before my departure, the dreaded CoVid positive numbers flash on the news alerts. The positive cases are rising, the news says. Could it be another wave, experts and presenters scream-debate. I stalk the BMC Twitter feed and scroll through the trending hashtags for #lockdown #fourthwave. Night sweats and accelerating heartbeat keep me awake. What if I am sent back from the airport? What if Austria closes borders to Mumbaikars? And then it hits me. These are the what-ifs we will have to live with for a while longer. Inoculation will not drive the uncertainty away. But, plans will be made and looked forward to. And, if a what-if presents itself, it will be dealt with.

When d-day arrives, it passes without incident and I snooze off before the plane has left the Mumbai airspace. The sleep debt from the past week of overthinking has caught up and I sleep through half the flight. I wake up to a different sky and as the plane crosses more time zones, the hues of the troposphere change. 

As the plane descends towards Graz, I finally allow it to sink in. 

Psst...Watch this space for my travel diary from Austria.