Leaving (and hopefully returning) on a jet plane

KNYSNA NEWS - My mom decided to die during the Covid-19 lockdown, which is the only reason I came to fly during this pandemic. But now that most airports are open, this is not the time to just merrily hop on a flight – take it from this traveller, as it is by far the most unnerving thing I have done in lockdown.

I am not as convinced as Transport Minister Fikile Mbalula that planes are safer than taxis filled to capacity.

"People ask why we are operating at 100% capacity on flights. It's because planes can absorb disease. Planes are fitted with high-efficiency particulate air filters (Hepa). The plane is not a taxi. You fly for, say, two hours and you are compressed. The filter can eat any form of virus, including Covid-19," is Mbalula's theory.

It stands as direct contradiction to the following strong warning from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) in the US: "Staying home is still the safest thing to do as flying increases the chances of getting infected and spreading Covid-19."

Spot on the introduction of the lockdown in March, my mother was told her cancer had spread and that the seven-year fight was over with only weeks left.

As it turned out for her, she couldn't have chosen her dates better. Frail care at the retirement village where she lived wouldn't accept new admissions. Her wish to die in her cottage with family present was granted – unlike many people who have not been able to visit sick or dying relatives.

So here is a quick dummy's guide to flying - and I don't think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out that simple logic is at play here.

What you need to fly:

• Get your documents in order. In my case, a letter from my mother's doctor saying specifically that I was going to care for her. Secondly, the affidavit which gets filled in by local police, and then the airport health declaration was needed. Without these documents, which vary for categories like repatriation or business, you aren't even entering the airport terminal.

• Armed with your loaded trolley after you've been dropped off outside the airport building, be warned: you are on your own and right of admission is reserved for passengers with their ducks in a row. Oh, and there is no sanitiser for the trolleys, which you are allowed to push in.

• Next you follow the 1,5m demarcated path to a table set outside the entrance. Show boarding pass, preferably on your phone so that there is no human contact, but a hard ticket also works. Get well fumigated, pass the temperature test and you are in.

• Head to the check-in counter, keep to distancing marked in the line. Show your boarding pass and load your bags onto the conveyor belt – no sanitising of your luggage. And don't bother to wrap it in plastic as is recommended. Mine wasn't and nor were dozens of others.

• After checking in and with two hours to kill, some restaurants are open. Coffee and hot food are available and obviously travellers are unmasked to eat and drink – and also take the maximum mask-free time doing it.

• Finally it's time to board, and you can expect pretty much the same scrum that this always is.

• Enter plane, scramble for space to put your hand luggage in the overhead containers, forget all social distancing. A chivalrous man even helped me find a space for mine and lifted it for me.

• On my flights there was no offering of hand-sanitiser packages, not so much as a bottle of water, and forget all social distancing. Once people settled down, poorly fitting masks slipped. Snoring noses and mouths hung out. Not pretty!

• Disembark and it's the same old story when all passengers stand at the same time and grab their bags. It's the usual logjam to get off a flight.

• Some relief awaits at the luggage carousel when your bag, which has been on its very own exciting Covid-journey, pops out. No sanitiser in sight for baggage, just in case you want to take your own.

• And now get the hell out of the airport.