Travel in the Time of Coronavirus

The previously abstract fear became real when the man held a gun to my husband's forehead. "37.2," he said.

The small pistol-shaped device was actually an infrared thermometer, wielded by the desk agent at a resort hotel in Luxor, a Nile-side tourist city in Egypt. The 37.2 degrees Celsius, or 98.96 degrees Fahrenheit, reading represented the slightest of fevers.

With a raised eyebrow, the agent noted the temperature on his form. He mumbled something about our possibly not being able to get out of Luxor. He'd been told that any reading above 37 degrees C was too high. But he didn't have the medical training or resources to do anything other than write it down and check us out of the hotel.

Still, Mark's temperature was a tad high, and it was at this moment that we proverbial frogs realized that the water temperature in the pot we'd been blissfully lounging in for the past several days had gotten too warm.

[SEE: When and How to Wash Your Hands.]

Travel During a Pandemic

Last August, when we first began planning a family trip to Cairo to visit my best friend from the Peace Corps, the world didn't yet know of the novel coronavirus that causes a potentially deadly respiratory disease called COVID-19. We envisioned the delights of warm weather, pyramids and camels and fretted about the logistics of procuring visas, booking tickets and figuring out how to acquire Egyptian pounds in the United States -- no small task.

That sultry day of planning eventually turned into packed bags and boarding passes amid small but growing concerns about whether travel would be advisable as the coronavirus concerns deepened. We knew that the virus had caused serious disruption in China and that other cases had begun cropping up around the globe. But it supposedly wasn't in Egypt yet, so there was nothing to be worried about, right?

When we boarded the plane in Boston just before 10 p.m. on Monday, March 3, the threat seemed remote, even for my 75-year-old mother and her 78-year-old boyfriend, who were traveling with me (age 42) and my 45-year-old husband. My mom had gotten each of us our own personal bottle of hand sanitizer and candy-like homeopathic elderberry tablets "to support the immune system."

Though we saw many travelers wearing face masks along the way, we scoffed at the widely reported ineffectiveness of such measures. We noticed one man who took his mask down to smoke a cigarette, stubbing the butt in a curb-side ashtray as he re-situated the mask over his nose and mouth. Instead of donning masks, we washed our hands as frequently as we could and made good use of the travel-sized hand sanitizer.

[Read: How Coronavirus Affects Older Adults]

Coronavirus Spreads Through Europe

News of the Italian outbreak wouldn't reach us until two days later, after we landed in Cairo. Just before baggage claim, we were met with a throng of people jostling in a disorganized queue. Every last passenger would have a temperature taken via an infrared thermometer, a gun of sorts, used to scan the forehead.

These tests were being administered by two men wearing masks and gloves who didn't speak English. Our party's lack of Arabic skills meant we didn't have a clear understanding of what would happen if one of us registered a fever, but it seemed the men were less concerned about us because we had arrived from the U.S. -- and not Iraq. We were permitted to pass the checkpoint, and our airport handler met us and whisked us through customs and immigration with no additional challenge.

Once in Cairo, amid the pulsating throb of humanity that moves this vibrant capital city, our concerns about coronavirus ebbed. Away from the constant pinging of email and news alerts, the crisis seemed a world away, and perhaps it was. That is, until the first few cases were reported in Egypt. Then, despite our best efforts to unplug, news of the growing panic surrounding the virus' rapid passage across borders began to break through our vacation reverie.

Nevertheless, we stuck to our agenda. We had several days of sightseeing in Cairo, followed by a weekend trip to Luxor to visit the Valley of the Kings. Though it would require additional air travel and could increase our risk of exposure to coronavirus, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the ancient Pharaonic tombs and quintessentially Egyptian sites in the former capital once known as Thebes. In my previous visit to Egypt 15 years ago, I hadn't had time to visit Luxor, and for my mom and her friend, visiting the great temple at Karnak and Luxor were bucket list items they might never have another chance to visit.

So we again headed to the airport with thoughts of viral infection nibbling at the edges of our consciousness. This time there were no temperature-takers waiting for us, and we easily made our way to Luxor on Saturday, March 7.

Again, as the rigors of sightseeing took center stage, our biggest health concerns became helping mom and her sore, arthritic knee over rough roads and up and down stairs so she could experience Egypt on its own level. Still our ears pricked up at every sneeze or persistent cough. A squirt of hand sanitizer assuaged anxiety after every bathroom break or handrail contact.

But coronavirus was closing in. On a sunrise hot-air balloon ride on Sunday, March 8, fellow tourists from Australia and London shared news about the virus' movement along with a rumor that a cruise ship traveling down the Nile from Aswan carried several ill passengers. It was unclear whether the ship would be permitted to dock in Luxor or how the local government and health authorities would deal with a potential outbreak.

None of us were experts, and some of the sources of information cited were questionable. I think this is typical of many conversations taking place around the world right now, as people try to determine a way forward in the time of coronavirus. As a society, we're well acquainted with social media's power to impact the political discourse, and even process. But this is really the first global pandemic to have occurred during the era of social media ascendency.

People's reliance on social media's easy sharing of sometimes-bad information is making the virus more dangerous. To some, internet personalities and celebrity wellness experts seemingly carry more authority than organizations like the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Pseudo-medical advice -- avoid eating ice cream but drink a hot cup of water every 15 minutes to prevent infection -- are just two examples of false recommendations making the rounds. Relying on such untested home remedies instead of employing scientifically proven measures, such as hand-washing and limiting contact with others, may heighten risk. Misinformation spreads in dangerous parallel to the virus' own invisible transmission from person to person.

After the balloon ride, we visited Karnak Temple. The throng of reporters and men in uniform clustered at the feet of massive statues to great leaders of long ago hinted that something important was happening. Our guide recognized the man at the center of the commotion -- an official from the Ministry of Tourism. He was there to make a very public show that Egypt was still open for business. A state-run news program interviewed my mother and me on camera about our trip to Egypt and whether we were afraid of coronavirus.

"You have to live your life," my mother answered, noting that we had never even considered canceling our trip because of coronavirus prior to departing the United States. "You can't live in fear of the virus. But you should take common sense steps to not spread it," she said. "Wash your hands. Use hand sanitizer. Stop touching your face."

The reporter seemed pleased with our answer, as it fell right in step with the official's assurances to a worried public.

But the message changed quite soon thereafter. We later learned that all hot-air balloon rides were canceled the day after our luminous flight. Ours may well have been the last balloon to launch until further notice. The tourist sites in the Valley of the Kings and in Luxor also closed indefinitely. What a difference a day makes.

When we went to check out of the hotel on Monday morning, to fly from Luxor back to Cairo, we again were met with the thermometer gun. My temperature registered a cool 36.5 degrees C or 97.7 degrees F, despite my having had a long-standing case of bronchitis that had me coughing excessively throughout our entire journey.

I'm mildly asthmatic. Symptoms are triggered by cold air and worsen after having had a cold or the flu, which I had at the beginning of February despite having had the vaccine. I often spend the months of February and March coughing and wheezing.

Mom and her partner had no issue either, but then came Mark's elevated reading. As we anticipated a series of health checks ahead, he and I quietly began making contingency plans for how to deal with the problem if one or all of us were quarantined in Luxor or Cairo.

[SEE: What's the Difference Between an Epidemic and Pandemic?]

The Possibility of Quarantine

But no challenge came at either airport, and no additional temperature guns revealed themselves. We went back to my friend's house in Maadi, a leafy, cosmopolitan section of Cairo, to enjoy our last two days in the city.

And this is when corona news really started to infiltrate our days. It seemed the situation was evolving moment by moment. My friend relayed messages about various activities and events being canceled and how he expected that schools would be closed indefinitely sometime soon. (As of this writing, Egyptian schools are still open.)

News from America and the sharp uptick in cases being reported at home also signaled to us that we'd been blissfully unaware of the growing danger. What had seemed overblown hype about our chances of getting sick or getting quarantined just a few days before suddenly seemed like a frightening reality as news of a German tourist's death in Luxor reached us.

Our return flight to Boston was scheduled for 1:55 a.m. on Wednesday, March 11. A few minutes past 7 p.m. on Monday, March 9, I received notice that our flight to Frankfurt had been canceled. A cheerful message from the airline noted they'd be in touch with more information soon, but I couldn't help but wonder whether we would be stranded in Cairo longer term.

More contingency planning arose -- ask the cat sitter if she's available for a longer stint, call work and arrange more time off, find alternative accommodations if needed. I also began fretting more about the ages of my companions, given that COVID-19 seems to have a more severe effect on those over age 60.

So we waited. And read a lot of news stories from a wide range of media outlets both local and international to gain a broader perspective.

Across the board, the picture was bleak. Infectious disease experts, epidemiologists and other health experts all seemed to concur: This particular coronavirus is a serious threat.

With our canceled flight and increasingly grim news reports on all sides, it began to feel as if the window of opportunity to get home was closing. Perhaps it was our proximity to so much evocative history, but I couldn't help compare our situation with an Indiana Jones-style scene -- could we stay one step ahead of the enormous rolling stone barreling towards us? Would we be able to make our own last-minute cinematic escape?

And what would become of us if we got stuck in Cairo or sent into quarantine in a local hospital?

A few hours later, we'd been rebooked on a 7:40 a.m. flight out of Cairo on Wednesday, March 11. We arrived at the Cairo airport half expecting to be whisked into quarantine, but we were not asked any questions about our health, where we'd been, nor had our temperatures taken.

As my husband noted, "you couldn't blame them (the local authorities) for wanting to get us out of here, on the off-chance we have the virus," instead of staying put and having to be cared for locally.

We landed in Munich and had a five-hour layover with no problem. We asked the waitress at the beer garden where we enjoyed lunch whether the quiet terminal and empty tables in the bar was typical of a Wednesday. "Business is off by 50%," she replied. "Because of coronavirus."

Travel Bans

Our flight home from Munich was uneventful, and we did not have to pass through any health checks. We breezed right through immigration and customs without a second glance, despite my bouts of asthmatic coughing.

Not five minutes after we arrived home, President Trump announced a travel ban from Europe. Though Americans (me and my folks) and green card holders (such as my husband) would be permitted to return home, it seems finding a flight could have become exponentially more challenging in light of the new restrictions set to come into force on March 13.

Now that we're safely back home, I plan to practice social distancing -- both to reduce my chances of spreading the virus if I do have it or picking it up from someone else if I don't. This is a relatively easy thing for me to do because I work from home. My mom and her friend are both retired and plan to spend at least a week resting up from a physically taxing adventure. We'll be conducting self-quarantines of a sort, and we'll be glad to be able to do that.

My husband, on the other hand, needs to go back to work at the job that provides our health insurance. With the 10 days' vacation he took, he has to make up some hours later this month to ensure we don't lose our insurance, lest we need it to cope with this or a more mundane but no less serious health threat.

How American a concern for this group of international travelers.