Quarantining in Mauritius - A 3-Week Diary
My Quarantine Story in Mauritius
I arrived at Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolan International Airport in Mauritius on Thursday 22nd July 2021 at around 6pm. The plane was ridiculously strict with keeping your face mask (muzzle) on, and I got threatened several times to stop removing it otherwise I will get kicked off the plane. Lol. Luckily my flight wasn’t full so I found a cushty 4-way (4 seated row) to lay down and sleep on which means I could remove my muzzle, cover my face and sleep peacefully without getting whined at. I slept most of the journey, waking up abruptly as we landed, with something I call ‘plane air syndrome’ or ‘PAS’. My nose was blocked, my skin was dry and pale, my mouth was dehydrated and tasting of something I call ‘plane breath’. I went through a breezy immigration process and was asked to show documents which I had prepared (thanks to the Mauritius Guide on The Broke Backpacker). If needed, you can connect to the Airport WiFi as the connection is decent. I forgot my ‘onward flight ticket’ so had to connect to their WiFi to sort that issue out. I use an amazing website called ‘www.onwardticket.com’ to reserve me a flight for either 24 or 48 hours, long enough to show immigration you have plans to exit the country. This is a useful trick for Mauritius as it allows you to get the maximum initial visa time (180 days). Using ‘Onward Ticket’ has saved my ass many times and costs something like €12 for a 24 hour reservation. Absolutely worth it to show any immigration border you have a return flight, which allows them to grant you the maximum visa times.
Please note: at this time of the plandemic, to enter Mauritius you had to have a negative PCR test- regardless of vaccination status. As an unvaccinated person, I had to quarantine for 1 week initially. During this quarantine week I was subjected to 2 PCR tests. To enter Mauritius as a tourist, I had to pre-book a ‘government approved all-inclusive hotel’ which was not only expensive, but also was to be my ‘prison cell’ for the next week. Once the week is over and you ‘test negative’ then you are released and can move around the island.
I fell asleep and got abruptly awoken with the manager (Patrick) in my room hovering over me. He said he got the result back from the airport and I had tested ‘positive’. There’s a surprise…. Regardless of whether I believed this or not, I knew I had to comply. He informed me an ambulance would be arriving within 10 minutes to drive me to a ‘government quarantine facility’ in which I would have to quarantine at for the next week, and to pack my belongings up ASAP.’ I did as I was told and no sooner than 7 minutes later did a man in a hazmat suit arrive at my door, pointing to my big backpack, and ushering me down the stairs towards his ambulance. I wasn’t told anything since Patrick woke me up. So I’m rushed into a dodgy ambulance and am sped up the motorway for about an hour. I was trying to peer out of the window, gathering as much information from the signs, trying to figure out where the fuck I was heading too. Feeling scared and slightly unsafe at this point, I was very anxious at what I would meet at the end of this crazy ass ride.
Finally, after the longest hour ever, we arrived at a place called Mon Choisy. I hated it already. I was ushered into the foyer, asked my dietary needs, medicinal needs (unfortunately ganja didn’t count) and then shoved into a room. Luckily I copped the WiFi from them just before, because they didn’t think to give it to me. And luckily I got it as I could call my Mum and tell her what happened. It was nice to hear a familiar voice. Even thought it was a 5 minute phone call, I had to reconnect to the WiFi several times as it seemed to cut out every 50 seconds or so. So in the end, when I anticipated the WiFi dropping, I would turn off/on my WiFi settings rapidly, so by the time it reconnects, I can just continue the same call. Mum did what she does best and reassured me I’ll feel different tomorrow morning after some sleep. I slept well that night but was woken up by the sound of a heavy metal trolley rattling down the corridors, seeming to continue getting closer and closer, like the sound would never end. I got a knock at the door at 06:00 to wake up to a cling filmed plate of baked beans and haricot beans and a roll of bread. Breakfast was served. I know had to find things to do. Luckily I bought my hammock with me and was situated on the ground floor, so I hung it up and chilled on it for most of the time, just listening to music, journalling, writing and drawing. Those government facilities were for locals and non-locals. Anyone who ‘tested positive’ in Mauritius had to quarantine there. I was blessed with a lovely local family above me; Dad, Mum, Son and Nan. The son, Aveen, was 7 years old and very intelligent. He was answering multiplication questions that I was throwing him all day. First lesson learnt: it’s the little things. In the end, the Mum Karishma lent me a book and got to know each other. I had made my first Mauritian friend and slowly started seeing the kindness of the locals, but sadly for me (and fortunately for them), they left after my first week. Now their absence had opened up a few hours in my day, I had to find more stuff to pass the time (even though I was practising HARD being in the present, I hadn’t mastered it fully). I began doing work outs (times were clearly tough), and more and more yoga as well as washing my clothes, cleaning the room and washing the previous guests sick splatters off the wall- just to pass the time. I would sweep for hours because there was nothing else to do. The WiFi was too shit to stream or download anything and I didn’t bring any books with me other than what Karishma lent me which I was finishing within hours. I didn’t mind it all that much as it was only for a week… or so I thought. On day 3 and day 6 I get woken up extremely early, at around 05:15 for a PCR test. The first test since being quarantined tested negative. ‘Wicked’ I thought, I’ll be released in no time.
Not the case. I had to pass the test on day 6 too. Again I get woken up but this time, this test results in a ‘positive’ reading. Not sure what witchcraft that was but they notified me I had to stay another 4 days, just enough time for another PCR test to release me. This one was negative, but they didn’t release me. I called up reception and they said to prepare to be released the following day. Fine. Another day won’t hurt. By 14:00 the following day, I hadn’t heard a peep so I contacted reception again. I was told some bullshit about how I had the ‘delta variant’ which (and this is word for word from the Doctor I was put onto), ‘can disappear causing negative results and reappear causing positive results, even days apart’. This was the bullshit I was dealing with. After being brainwashed into thinking I had the delta variant, I was told I had to stay quarantining for another 11 days because I was ‘a risk’ with this variant. By this point I was feeling down and out, because now my mentally prepared brain for 7 days is trying to deal with finding out I have to do 3 weeks, because I have a virus which moonlights as a magician, disappearing and reappearing when it chooses to. Now I was getting fed up. After the ignorance and lies from the reception, workers and doctors, something inside me snapped. I was only halfway through my ‘bird’ and running out of things to do.
But. I am a warrior goddess and this wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. After all, some people had been trapped in a tiny flat for months with their children bouncing off the walls. 3 weeks in solitude was lowkey a blessing. After having a cry to myself, I mustered up myself and managed to hack into the Netflix on the TV! Luckily the TV ran off the workers WiFi which was strong and reliable so I could stream all the Netflix and Youtube yoga videos I wanted to. This made the rest of quarantine a bit better, however, during the final 11 days I had to partake in another 4 PCR tests which respectively resulted in NEGATIVE, POSITIVE, NEGATIVE, NEGATIVE. Don’t ask me how, but that’s what they claimed it was. Please bear in mind that half of my ‘all inclusive hotel costs’ go towards this government facility so it doesn’t take a genius to know what game they’re playing.
As well as being shouted for being a ‘disrespectful girl’ for answering the door in my pyjamas one morning and having to constantly remind the workers to bring me more TP and water, during this quarantine experience, a worker of the facility- who was extremely drunk- came to my door at 22:00 one night (I think it was day 15), asking me to drink with him. After respectfully declining him a few times, he became more and more pushy, trying to force me into drinking with him. He also kept ‘reminding’ me that his room was adjacent to mine, in case I wanted to visit him at night. Lol. At this point, he wasn’t wearing a mask or keeping his distance, which normally I wouldn’t mind, but if it meant keeping me in quarantine for a second longer than I needed to, then I didn’t mind politely telling him to fuck off. Once I closed the door in his face and WhatsApped my mum about the creepy guy, he kept ringing my room phone. After telling him to stop about 10 times, he finally did. About 20 minutes later I hear shuffling outside my door, then suddenly all the lights in my room went out. The only light that remained was a little red glow from the reception phone- I felt blessed that it ran on a different line. I knew the electricity panel was outside my door as I was on the end of the building which meant that he was outside my door, fucking with my electricity, trying to creep me out. The creepy worker had a headset on his head and neck which made me worried that he was the only night worker on call. I called the reception and asked for the receptionists name, to confirm he wasn’t the creepy worker dude. Luckily it wasn’t and it was a guy named Vinay. I explained to Vinay that one of his workers is harassing me and I’m scared, I needed help and needed him to leave me alone. Vinay proceeded to call the creep and then called me back, telling me that the worker claimed to have been ‘woken up’ by Vinays phone calls. I explained to Vinay that this was all lies and he was outside my door. Finally, Vinay sorted the situation and sent the worker to bed, ensuring me that I was safe for the night. I stayed up for another hour to ensure there was silence and proceeded to sleep. The following morning the manager of the facility called my room and went through the situation. Even though he was trying to be helpful, a phone call doesn’t substitute for ‘support’ when I experienced such a situation which made me feel so scared. Reassuring me that his daughter is my age isn’t helpful when no one can even come to my room if I was in worse danger. I found this very disturbing as there are people who aren’t as outspoken as me and might’ve got into worse trouble with the creepy worker, because he was so harsh on them. All I know, is that that situation wouldn’t have happened to me if I was a male. Straight fact. The manager threatened to fire the guy, but last I heard, he was just moved to another side of the hotel.
This sounds like huge moan but it’s just an account of my time in quarantine. I was blessed to have a ground floor room, blessed to have met Karishma, Aveen and her family, blessed to have an abundance of food (it was way too much some days), blessed to be healthy with no symptoms and blessed to have enough WiFi to msg my friends and family. All in all, it was a learning curve and I had succeeded my first challenge.
On my final few days, a french girl called Julia moved in next to me on the ground floor. She was also a tourist (and the first white person I’d seen for 3 weeks), and was my age so we spent the last few days getting to know each other. I saw her arrive on her first day and her face was not happy at all, I remember feeling how she did. So once she moved in, I gave her a couple top tips (AKA order your loo roll 2 days in advance), and we got to bonding. She was over on holiday with her MAURITIAN boyfriend (who coincidentally didn’t test positive), and only had 3 weeks in Mauritius before having to return to France. I was released a week before her (she had to do 2 weeks quarantine as she was vaccinated). Finally the day comes where I’m released. As I leave the shitty Mon Choisy resort, a doctor hands me a note, confirming I’ve done my ‘necessary’ quarantine and have officially been released. Hilariously, the doctors note said I needed to quarantine for another week at home. Luckily I can’t read doctors handwriting! I jumped into the taxi and got taken back to Tamarina. Patrick agreed to letting me spend 2 weeks there (using half the payment I previously paid). Upon arrival, suddenly the Tamarina Hotel doesn’t accept unvaccinated guests. Mauritius was starting to piss me off and I was wondering if I’d made a mistake by going there.
I decided to get a taxi to my Mauritian relatives house in Ripailles (Central Plateau) and fuck the hotel off altogether. The universe was sending me all signs to tell me to get out the resorts and into the real Mauritius!
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