Days 1-5 of London Quarantine

Day 1

I was hoping to wake up late, but alas, I didn’t. I woke up at 8 and manage to try to watch TV in bed for a solid hour, but one can take only so much of BBC, BBC International News, BBC2, BBC4 and euronews before switching to Keeping up with the Kardashians, circa 2004, for nothing better on TV. It so happens that I am an elite member of the Marriott, and so I get access to the Members’ Lounge. Because of COVID restrictions, however, the lounge was closed and instead, they would deliver breakfast to the room, in plastic boxes, and an inviting brown paper bag with elegant wooden utensils. So, I ordered breakfast, fixed my bed and decided that I don’t want to stay anymore in the ghostly hotel, but rather change to another one in the chain that has more people and possibly open lounge.

9:30 breakfast arrived, and I ate really slowly to stretch time, while watching some more Shtisel.

10:30 – I decided that I need to lose weight while in captivity. Since I detest working out, I decided to walk 10,000 steps. For lack of better space, I began walking the long, carpeted corridors of the hotel, while watching Shtisel on my phone.

11:30 – I managed to get 8,000 steps or so. Brushed my teeth, took a shower. Explored Deliveroo for lunch options.

1:00 – Lunch arrived, this time delivery without a hitch. Ate lunch, made 3^rd cup of tea.

2:00 – received an email that my COVID tests have been delivered to the hotel. Went to reception where Icy Lady told me she has not received anything. Showed her picture of delivered tests on my phone, and apparently they were delivered somewhere else. Because, why should anything work?

3:00 – rearranged all files in my computer, and deleted old school stuff

4:00 – decided to walk some more

5:00 – spoke to the Diplomat, then to Mom, then to Son

6:30 – emailed and texted everyone I could think of who lives in London

7:30 – ate dinner and watched Shtisel. Then watched one more episode because I could.

10:00 pm – called for ice. This time, Icy Lady arrived with a small bucket of ice. Not to offend her, took all of it. After I made myself a scotch, spent the rest of night practicing tossing the ice in the sink in the bathroom from various distances.

Day 2

9:00 – underwhelming breakfast again

10:00 – spent an hour deciphering how to take the PCR test on my own. After reading the instructions 7 times, I promptly packaged the swab wrongly twice, and then just gave up and mailed it. I used the excuse of the mail run to take a walk and buy food and wine from a neighboring store. Then I came back, super delighted with myself, and ate lunch. 2:00 pm - decided to go to the gym for my daily steps. I figured that I was inside the hotel, so it was OK not to stare at the walls of the room for a change. Once done, I went and took a shower, and just as I was coming out of it in my robe, I got a stern knock on the door.

It was the police!!!!!!!! Checking on me whether I am quarantining in my room! Which I was. In that precise moment. So they do check….Which also came as a surprise to the NHS person who called me that afternoon to check on me and prattle on the same useless narrative they do every day.

All that excitement killed a couple of hours and positioned me well for an exciting dinner with a (cheap) glass of wine and M&S (cheap) dinner. For I have to tell you folks – London is one expensive city. Or maybe I have lived in Kyiv too long.

Day 3 – more of the same, rinse and repeat with one new exciting events. The Diplomat sent me “surprise” flowers because it was Mother’s Day. It was not a surprise for 3 reasons:

1. He told me about it in advance
2. I saw the charge on the credit card
3. It didn’t arrive when he said it should have arrived, so I had to go back to Reception (Icy Lady was gone and I was met instead by Hot Dutch Guy, who was a lot easier on the eyes, to be honest). It took, as usual, 30 mins to track the delivery down. I think that hotel really needs to reevaluate its official address.

Day 4 – I moved to a new hotel in hopes of finding traces of life, the JW Marriot in Mayfair, across from Hyde Park – an address as swanky as it gets in this gorgeous city. Beyond the excitement of the move, the other exciting event of the day was that I decided to try new makeup techniques. For a good part of the afternoon, I smeared and painted, and tried every single brush in my makeup kit, for some truly frightening looks.

And then I walked 10,000 steps in the hotel corridors wearing that makeup, to see what people thought of that. Judging by the expression of the Middle Eastern man who passed me by several times, I must have looked exquisite in heavy makeup and sweatpants.

Then, as I was reading later at night (after having MAYBE 2 glasses of wine), I noticed a small orb of light dancing around the darkness of the room. Blame it on the ghosthunters show I had just watched, but I KNEW it was a ghost. After watching it move around the room for while, and scaring the scrap out of me, I realized it was just a reflection of my watch on the night lamp.

Day 5 – Lather, rinse repeat. Also, I worked remotely and then realized that I was allowed to dine in the restaurants of the hotel, only outside. It was 10 degrees, but I did not care, I got to eat in a restaurant!!! I also got my negative PCR test result. Shocking, given that I am fully vaccinated, and I had already tested negative right before leaving for London!

Quarantining in London

I just flew in London from Kyiv about a week ago to do a simple surgical procedure. In case you wonder why London, it’s too complicated to explain, frankly. Anyway, currently England requires anyone coming on the island to self-isolate for 10 days, taking COVID-19 tests on day 2 and 8 to make sure they are not sick. The National Health Service (NHS) will check on you and supposedly so would the police.

Now let me tell you why this is stupid and utterly ineffective. Before arrival, you have to register with something called a Personal Locator online, putting down critical details like what seat you are on the plane, what your address is, where you have been and where you are going. Fair enough. You also have to buy online from a random (and huge) list of laboratories tests that are to be sent to your place of abode (in my case, a vast and ancient hotel), which you will then self-administer on days 2 and 8. Oh, what fun.

So, let’s see what could possibly go wrong with this super scheme (it is actually called a “scheme” in the UK).

• You have to receive the tests by courier. It took the hotel 30 mins to figure out where they were delivered (not at reception). Great start!
• The tests came with extensive directions and multiple bags and labels. You have to figure out what to put where and how and then where to mail it. I am not stupid. But I did it wrong for the first test. Good luck to you!
• You have to self-swab with a giant stick and then send off the sample by mail. First, that is disgusting (assuming you have already been swabbed for COVID before, you know what I mean, and then imagine doing it to yourself). Second, I’d think that is putting way too much faith into humanity when it comes to public health – ultimately, who’s to know whose swabs those really are?
• The NHS calls me every day to check on me. Full on conversations, repeating the same thing every boring day, telling me what to do if I develop COVID symptoms, asking me if I am quarantining home. Now, mind you, they call me on my cell phone, and for all they know, I could be in Australia petting a koala bear or eating crumpets at Buckingham’s Palace. Recently, they have taken on calling me not once, but TWICE a day. Turns out that since I filled out that amazing locator twice (I switched hotels), they cannot put two and two together, and think that I am now two separate people, quarantining in two different places, and they call me twice. Which tells you how well this “scheme” is working.

So, what does a person do for 10 days alone in a hotel in London? In a thrilling series of several posts, I thought I’d let you know in case you find yourself in the same position.

I arrived on a chilly and rainy Friday. I took an absurdly expensive taxi from Gatwick to the Marriott County Hall at Westminster Bridge, a giant and ornate historical hotel facing Westminster Abbey and Big Ben. Killer view! Upon check-in, I admitted that I was going to self-quarantine, and the hotel lady told me icily that there will be no housekeeping for me. I will need to make my own bed (ouch!), and should not interact with anyone. Which did not seem to be challenging since it looked like it was just me and her in the giant, empty, ghostly hotel, located in the former UK Parliament building. She said that there is a limited dining-in menu and when I order, they will leave it outside the door. All in all, it all strongly resembled plague times.

My room was lovely. I quickly changed into casual ware, and sat down to study the lunch menu since I was starving. Of the 10 items on the list, 9 were fried and one was boiled. Unwilling to believe that, I called “in room dining,” which was again reception Ice Lady, and was told that indeed, that is their menu. She recommended a delivery app, Deliveroo, which I promptly downloaded and excitedly ordered sushi. In about 20 mins, the delivery person began calling me, asking me where I was located. She was two streets over, in a different hotel. 6 calls later, and me having to leave the hotel (the HORROR), I finally found her and got my food. That process happily killed 2 hours of the day.

I realized that I will be ordering more food, so I decided to call Housekeeping and get a minifridge. Turned out Housekeeping also was Icy Lady, which promised to send me one. I admire Icy Lady, I do believe she singlehandedly runs the entre hotel and fries the food behind the reception desk. The fridge soon arrived, and I finished my late lunch. That excitement took another one hour. By now, it was 6 pm, so I decided to take a shower and settle my toiletries in the bathroom. I took extra time and by the time I was done and in PJs, it was already 7 pm!

I settled down to watch a new show – someone recommended Shtisel – and it seemed like a great show. It was. One 1-hour episode later, I was fully hooked. I decided to order a (unnaturally expensive) glass of wine to go with my dinner. Since the room delivery of that glass cost a whooping 4 pounds (around $5.50), I decided to go pick it up by myself. I got it from – you guessed it – Icy Lady! In another hour, I had finished dinner, another episode and was ready for a nightcap of scotch (I had bought a bottle at Duty Free). I called Concierge (aka, Icy Lady) for a bit of ice. She brought me a giant bucket of ice, from which I daintily took two cubes and sheepishly handed the rest back. I don’t think she likes me. With this and brushing my teeth, I managed to get to 11 pm and off to sleep. I cannot wait for the delights of the official Day 1 in quarantine (your arrival day does not count).

In other updates - we are still in Kyiv, but Fat Cat moved on to greener heavenly pastures, and we acquired two new family members: Batman (scrawny, hairy, hyper blackish baby cat, that looks like a sickly bat), and Sedate Cat (an emotionally needy, excessively purry leopard-looking cat, which is consistently tormented by Batman by rough playing). Currently, all four men are turning the house upside down in my absence.