Sex, Travel and The Pandemic

Bury St. Edmunds, London Reunions, And the Immunocompromised

On July 4th, I finally made the decision to leave Sheffield and start making my way to London. But first, I made a quick stop in Bury St. Edmunds to visit an old friend. Remember my friend who had recommended Sheffield? Well, she invited me to come to stay with her, her brother, and her mom in a small British town near Cambridge. There was no way I could say no to that offer. Also, restrictions around the UK were easing, and life was somewhat returning to "normal." Pubs and restaurants were reopening, and England was being resurrected.

My friend, Charlotte, and her mom Olivia designated a room in their tiny two-storey house specifically for me. They moved out everything that was once in there and placed a mattress on the floor. They really went out of their way to make sure that I was comfortable, and I really appreciated it. Charlotte and I spoke quite a lot online while I was in Sheffield. She was having a hard time being back home. Before the pandemic, she had lived and studied in Devon. Then when the pandemic happened, like most, she had to leave her friends, and her life in Devon behind to move back home. To add insult to injury, she was diagnosed with adult-onset asthma. This diagnosis meant that she was a member of the high-risk group of people.

"Are you worried at all about getting COVID-19?" I asked Charlotte.

"No, not at all," She said, in her chipper and high-pitched British accent, "I have been a vegan for most of my life and I believe my immune system is strong enough to handle COVID-19."

I didn't argue with her logic.

Charlotte took me around her cute little home town of Bury St. Edmunds. The town didn't even seem real. The buildings were short, and colorful, and I felt like I was on the set of a Harry Potter film. No joke. Some scenes from Harry Potter were actually filmed near Bury St. Edmunds.

The colors of spring were still around, and the people were out and about. Charlotte also introduced me to a few of her friends. But I ended up actually spending most of my time with Charlotte's mom, Olivia. She was very hospitable and treated me like one of her own kids. She would cook up some amazing meals and we would watch movies and stuff together. Charlotte, on the other hand, had spent most of her time alone. She was battling some demons and because of these demons, she was suffering from debilitating depression. Some days for her were better than others. She was deeply troubled. The pandemic wasn't very kind to her. The pandemic wasn't very kind to any of us.

In the rare moments that she would emerge from her shell, we would gather up some of her friends and head to the English coast nearby. They would host picnics and football games, making the summer of 2020 seem normal. But it wasn't normal. Summer 2018 was normal. Summer 2019 was normal. Summer 2020 was far from normal. I knew it, Charlotte knew it, everyone knew it. It was all a façade, play pretend in a sickened world. What were we supposed to do? Keep living locked away and in depression? We had to find something to also protect our mental health. We needed love, joy, fun, and companionship. We needed to be in awe of something or someone. The lockdowns protected our physical health, but it withered away our mental health, and I saw it every day in Charlotte; I saw it every day in myself. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't lock myself away, in fear of this virus. I refused to subject my mental health to the toxic levels of anxiety and depression it succumbed to while in lockdown. I was going to travel, see the world, meet new people.... and I was willing to die in the process.

I spent almost 4 months in lockdown, and I was not going back.

I spent two weeks in Bury St. Edmunds before heading to London, where I spent a few days. COVID-19 restrictions were eased quite a bit, and I was able to hang out with some of my friends who I knew from London. I know what you're thinking. Why was I meeting with so many people during a pandemic? Well, what was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to keep isolating myself until they got a vaccine? I had to choose between my mental health and catching the Coronavirus. I had chosen the former for a while. We all had.

But the consequences of each action were very real. It became even more real to me when I was at a bar in Shoreditch having a drink with my friend Emma who I had met in Mexico City back in 2019. She had told me that her dad was in the high-risk category and that if he had caught COVI,D-19 he could possibly die. She lived with her mom and dad and had taken every precaution for months and hadn't been meeting or mixing with anyone. She had so far done a good job, but it was driving her insane. She had taken a risk by coming to a bar with me, and I knew it very well. As innocent as a drink in a bar was, I couldn't help but think, what if?

What if, because of this, she happens to get sick and goes home and spreads it to her immunocompromised dad? If he dies, then it would be my fault, as I was the first person she had casually met up with since the pandemic started. I knew it wouldn't be all my fault, but it sure felt like it.

In the days after I had met with her, I would often think about her father's health. But he has been fine, and he's still fine as of this writing.

I also reunited with Maggie and Glenn from the OG Cancun squad. We walked around the city and went to Roof East, a beautiful rooftop bar where we played baseball in a batting cage and drank some good liquor.

With restrictions being eased all over Europe, I decided to try my luck and do a Eurotrip for the summer. I was stuck and alone in a foreign country, I had to make the best of it.

So, I did it.

I booked the next bus to Brussels.

Europe was splendid. I can go on to describe just how magnificent the architecture was, the amazing taste of the food, but I'll settle for one word... splendid.

My trip to Brussels was quick and short, spending only about a week. I felt like a caged bird who was now free to spread his wings and fly to wherever he wanted, eat whatever he wanted, and meet whomever he wanted. I met up with a few friends in Brussels and even ate some French Fries, which, FYI was invented in Belgium, not France.

Life in Europe, like the UK, was coming back to its fullness. People seemed to have cast aside their thoughts about the coronavirus and opted to return to enjoying life. Most countries in Europe held on to a few restrictions. They kept the clubs closed, had a maximum person limit, and encouraged wearing masks in heavily crowded places like malls and city centers. I was once stopped by a police officer on a bustling street in Brussels who told me that I couldn't be on this particular street without a face mask.

However, some European countries threw all the restrictions out the window. Countries like Finland. Of course you could figure out what my next stop was going to be.