Coming home to Canada

With the coronavirus situation worsening in Europe, countries shutting down and our community partners in Canada telling us it was time to come back, we decided it would be best to end our tour early and find a new flight home. We still had lots of global community partners to visit in Europe, but we wouldn’t even be able to enter some of those countries and as it started to look like Canada would soon close its borders too, we started our search for a new flight.

On the afternoon of the 15^th, we found two options, a $6000 flight to Vancouver or a $400 flight to Halifax. The flight to Halifax looked like the best option, once we were in Canada we were confident we could find a flight home, or take the train if we needed to.

Fenja found flights to Germany easily, she could change hers for free. As a Canadian citizen, Kevan would be still be able to get in to Canada, but with only a work permit would I be able to? With the travel restrictions in the US, we knew it was only a matter of time before Canada would follow.

I just wanted to get home and I was worried I’d get stuck in the UK. But getting caught up in negativity wasn’t an option, positivity and proactivity was the only way we’d find a solution. So as planned, we went to visit my parents. I stayed the night with them, sharing my positive stories of life at the ranch and listening to their stories of life since we’d last seen each other eleven months ago. I knew that if I heard the Canadian borders would close, I’d get on the next flight home, even if it cost me $6000.

The next morning, the 16^th, Kevan and Fenja messaged me from the hotel saying Andre had found us a flight to Vancouver, connecting through Toronto for tomorrow, and it only cost $700. I was immensely relieved to hear this news. So we carried on with the positivity program. We went to visit Dave at The Cattery where I worked before coming to the ranch. Then we ate fish and chips on the beach with Ryan, my buddy from my old life.

We drove onto Gatwick airport from where Fenja would fly home tomorrow morning and found a hotel there. In the hotel, we had messages from our community partners back in Canada and saw on the news Trudeau was going to make a speech on the new travel policies. We didn’t know what it was going to be, but it seemed like the borders were going to close to anybody who wasn’t a Canadian citizen or had PR. I got caught up in worry again. Would the borders close for me before our flight? Would I really get stuck in the UK?

Still not knowing what Trudeau would say, we went out for dinner and I started to make my plans. I’d still go to the airport in the morning and hope we made it in time. But if I got stuck here, I’d stay with my parents and work at The Cattery. Kevan reminded me I could never go back. Going back to my old life wouldn’t be productive, I needed to be immersed in ranch culture. It would be better if I went to Germany and stayed with Fenja. At first that didn’t seem like a good option to me, I didn’t speak German and how would I support myself without a wage?

But the more I thought about it, the more I knew that was the right decision. I needed to stay in the ranch culture, not go back to my old life where it would be all too easy to fall into old habits. We looked up news articles. Some of them said the border restrictions would come into effect on the 18^th, the day after we were due to fly. But this wasn’t really clear and I felt a confused mix of emotions: fear I wouldn’t be able to go home, some kind of relief that we would get home before the new restrictions came into effect, certainty that I would make this work and I’d get home, because we do the impossible every day at the ranch.

But back at the hotel, we read over the news again. Now it seemed like the restrictions would come into place immediately. I felt sick I was so worried. I forgot to be positive and, alone in my hotel room, I feared I’d never see the ranch again, that I’d get stuck in the UK too long, fall back into old habits and never find a way back home.

After getting caught up in this fatalistic thinking for a while, I knew what I needed to do. Lisa was coming from Nicaragua with a letter of acceptance to work. I needed that too. And a copy of my pay check. And a letter from Wilderness Trails saying I was needed to work at the ranch. I had my SIN number, my validated work permit. I set everything in place I could possibly need to succeed.

The next morning, we dropped Fenja off at Gatwick and drove onto Heathrow. By this point, I had everything together that I could possibly need to prove I should be allowed back into Canada. Yet I was worrying again. There were still too many unknowns that were beyond my control. But I knew that I could only work on the things I could change and that would put me in the best position to get home.

We dropped off my bag at check-in. When he saw my British passport, he asked if I had a work permit. When I said I did, he said that was fine. Would I be able to get into Canada still? It seemed good now, but would it be a different story when we landed in Toronto?

We Whatsapp called Fenja. She’d landed in Berlin while we were waiting for our plane. Now she needed to get the train home. I was relieved for her she’d been able to get home, but knew she’d prefer to be at the ranch too.

I’d done everything I could now, but I still needed a back-up plan. I for sure wasn’t going to stay in the UK and I didn’t really want to go to Germany. So I found out where there were few cases of coronavirus, in the hope there wouldn’t be a lock down there. I decided on New Zealand. If I couldn’t go home, I’d take a holiday to New Zealand until I could get back to Canada.

As we boarded the plane, I was again asked if I had a work permit and told that from tomorrow, I wouldn’t have been able to get in, even with a work permit. It was looking more and more like I’d be able to go home, and that I’d caught the last flight home. I was finally starting to relax, I channelled all my positive energy into believing I’d get home.

When we landed in Toronto, Kevan went through customs as normal, I had to go downstairs and walk through the terminal to another customs area. Now I started to worry again – this was the moment, would I be let in or would I be on the next flight back to the UK?

I walked up to the counter and handed over my passport and work permit. In the time it took me to do this, the person beside me was told he’d been denied entry to Canada. Would I be told the same?

The customs officer looked at my passport for two seconds and my work permit for two more. He stamped my passport and handed both back, telling me I had to self-isolate for two weeks now, something that sure wouldn’t be hard at the ranch.

“Is that all?” I asked, in disbelief of how simple this had been, “Am I good?”

He said that was it, so I took my documents and hurried through security and onto the gate for our connecting flight, all the while looking for Kevan. I made it to the gate but Kevan wasn’t there. Fenja and I both tried to call each other at the same time and I could share my success at being able to come home.

I started walking back towards the security area. Finally I saw Kevan. Now all my worries were gone. I was allowed home, we hadn’t missed our connecting flight and I’d found Kevan. My face broke into a huge Cheshire cat grin and I sprinted towards Kevan. 

We made it to the hotel late in the evening, with our taxi driver updating us on the situation in Canada which was worse than we’d expected. Hotels were closing down and being sold, restaurants were take-out only or closed. Gas prices were at $1.06, they’d been at $1.30 when we’d left.

We met Manon and Feli at the hotel. They’d brought a truck from the ranch for us to drive home. But the story wasn’t over yet. Lisa was flying in to Seattle from Nicaragua tonight and would get a connecting flight onto Vancouver in the morning. We now knew the border was going to close at 12pm tomorrow. Her flight landed at 9am, so she should be able to get through too.

But the next morning, still on UK-time, we woke up at 4:30 to see a message from Lisa. It was 12pm Eastern Time that the borders would close, that was 9am in BC. She’d be too late to fly in. So after checking in her luggage, she’d rented a car from the airport and was driving across the border.

We could only wait to hear if she’d make it across – what if she got stuck in traffic? At 8:30, we had a call from reception saying Lisa was in the lobby. We went down to find her. There, looking as if she couldn’t quite believe she’d made it, was Lisa. Her story was another example of doing whatever it takes to get the job done. She’d sure done the impossible today. She really had taken the last flight.

Dale and Lea were meeting us at the hotel as well. They were coming from the Island and were going to join us at the ranch while all the coronavirus panic was going on. They were coming now while they still could, they didn’t know how long the ferries would keep running, or how long there’d be gas. We had two trucks so Dale, Lea, Manon, Feli and Sophie went in Dale’s truck and Kevan, Lisa and I could start our self-isolation in the suburban.

That evening at the ranch, we were finally all reunited. We’d overcome every challenge and proved once more that the impossible was always possible. That was the power of proactivity and positivity.

I wanted to hug all my community partners at the ranch, to share my love and appreciation for them, to ground myself to the moment so I could really believe I’d made it home. But that would have to wait until our two-week self-isolation period was over. We all knew we were in the best place in the world for self-isolation and we’d respond with positivity and proactive solutions to whatever might come next as the world reacted to the coronavirus pandemic and went into lock down.

Charlie, UK