Saturday 10th September
I arrive at Taoyuan International Airport at 6:15am in a big hoodie and tracksuit bottoms, not feeling too fresh after 24 hours of travelling.
Immediately after getting off the huge plane, I am greeted by a man from the Taiwanese Ministry of Education. This man is so keen to get me and Julia (another student) through the airport that he trips over his feet, making a loud squeaking sound with his polished trainers as he rushes us through the deserted airport. (A week ago, this place was crammed with students arriving from all over the world, but I am late to the party.)
Even though we are in an air-conditioned building, the heat hits me like a sack of bricks and I want to roll up my sleeves but this man practically shoves me towards the SIM card station before I have the chance. I opt for the 15-day SIM card in case I have COVID and have to quarantine for 14 days (the unthinkable).
The next step is to show the 'quarantine system for entry form' that I filled out at 4am in the check-in queue at Heathrow (which now feels like a lifetime ago). I go through passport control, show my folder of documents and the online form, as well as my new Taiwanese number. They place a small cup in my hand, which they inform me is my PCR test kit. I stumble forward, somewhat confused by the lack of swab, tube etc.
Once I have collected my bags, my hyper-enthusiastic airport guide points me towards a maze of ropes that lead me out of the airport and into a line of stalls that have been sectioned off on the road outside the airport.
I go into the first available booth and I am told to spit into the cup that they gave me earlier. I am somewhat taken aback, my British upbringing halting me from being able to spit in front of other people. However, my inhibitions are soon dissolved as I am welcomed by a thunderous array of people hacking and spewing saliva into their cups. I follow suit, trying and failing to maintain as much dignity as possible.
Once I have taken out some cash to pay for the taxi, my temporary friend waves goodbye and nudges me out of the airport. I try to ignore the gallons of sweat that begin to appear all over my body as I arrive at the quarantine taxi rank. I tell my taxi driver which hotel I am isolating in and she starts spraying all my bags down with hand sanitiser, and motions for me to stand like a scarecrow so that I too can be disinfected.
We arrive at the Bear Inn at 8am, and the next few minutes play out in a matter of seconds. Before I know it, I am standing in a mini apartment, with my bags that stink of pure ethanol, covered in sweat, wondering what on Earth is happening and what I am going to do with myself for the next 8 days!
