a small price to pay for the freedom beyond

The strict 15-day lockdown for media and officials, who are not allowed the five-hour window outdoors most of the players have, is a small price to pay for the freedom beyond.

It is likely a higher-end experience than the regular government quarantine. Little touches like snack boxes and fruit deliveries and a coffee-filter set-up help to ease the way.

“Honestly, I’m pleasantly surprised at the quarantine conditions and the professionalism of the directives since my arrival – from the first flight, to the hotel, to my first practice,” Canadian rising star Félix Auger-Aliassime said.

“Of course, I feel badly for my colleagues who can’t get outside. But I also understand that it wasn’t an easy decision for those authorities to make.”

Marc Lucero, the coach of American Steve Johnson, came in with some previous experience.

“I live in Los Angeles and we have had some of the strictest rules in the US during this time. I’ve also done an isolation due to contact tracing. So this isn’t really bad; the only issue is not being prepared for it with things you might want to have,” Lucero said. “At the end of the day I always wanted our government to take a more aggressive and proactive position on this virus, so I’m fine with following what they tell us.”

When word spread that I planned to travel Down Under to cover the 2021 Australian Open, most thought I was bonkers to even attempt it.

It’s almost impossible to get to Australia at all these days – just ask the thousands of its stranded citizens.

The quarantine comes at a significant financial cost.

The four-day journey from Canada – a maze of complicated logistics and tight testing timelines that, somehow, brilliantly fell into place – was infernally long. And with that came more risk.

‘I always wanted our government to take a more aggressive and proactive position on this virus.’

Marc Lucero, coach of US player Steve Johnson

But to be able to experience this unusual event first-hand is a privilege. And when a journalist gets an opportunity to tell tales readers won’t find anywhere else, the motivation to make it happen is invigorating.

I travelled from Montreal, Canada, to Frankfurt, Germany, overnight on a Wednesday, spent the entire day in the airport, then flew from Frankfurt to Dubai on the Thursday night.

The initial flight was nearly empty; I had an entire row to myself. It felt safe enough.

The second flight was a wake-up call.

As I reserved it only a few days beforehand and saw so many seats taken, I booked an exit-row seat to ensure I had no one in front of me and good air circulation around me.

It was … packed.

The flight attendant told me there were fewer than 20 empty seats on a 240-seat Airbus. Luckily, one of those seats was next to me.

This mass of humanity was jarring. After 10 months of mostly staying safe at home and avoiding people, the notion of so many humans in such an enclosed area gave me pause.

I began second-guessing my decision.

But I kept my distance, and made it through.

Swedish doubles player Cornelia Lister had a similarly complicated itinerary: Alicante, Spain, to Madrid, to Dubai, to Melbourne.

“Honestly, I’m just happy to have arrived to Australia. It’s been the most stressful weeks to prepare for this arrival – so much paperwork, tests, planning. But I don’t really have any complaints. It’s incredible how much they’ve worked just to manage to organise this tournament during such difficult times and trying to keep us all as safe as possible, and I’ve never experienced anything so strict,” Lister said.

After a short night I set off to the Dubai airport on the Friday morning to join the Tennis Australia charter flight to Melbourne.

I was at the tail-end of a long queue of tennis players and chair umpires and coaches. And suitcases and tennis bags. Mounds of them.

Many fellow passengers had competed in the Australian Open women’s qualifying held in Dubai earlier in the week.

‘Honestly, I’m just happy to have arrived to Australia.’

Cornelia Lister, Swedish player

For some 90 minutes, I watched the queue slowly snake towards the check-in counters. It was impossible to miss those players and coaches for whom mask-wearing still appears little more than a rather dubious nose-baring, neck-warming exercise.

All those months of not earning a penny. All these months of playing before silent, empty stands. All those hours spent sequestered in hotel rooms because of the COVID-19 protocols.

And yet it seems the message still hasn’t fully penetrated.

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I second-guessed myself again.

Could this Australian Open really come off safely given the cavalier attitude of some of its participants? It only takes one or two to derail the entire enterprise.

I kept my distance. For once, I was happy to be last in line.

At most 75 passengers populated a rather spare Singapore Airlines 787 with some 65 rows of seats.

Everyone had their own row. Only one player in my section changed her seat.

Flight attendants were fully outfitted in gowns, masks and safety glasses. They regularly checked for mask truants. There was almost no mingling.

Some 13 hours later, we landed.

All of us but poor Ellen Perez, the Australian player held back at the 11th hour because of a slightly runny nose.

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Upon arrival, customs documents were verified, testing information double-checked and bags collected.

At the quarantine hotel, each passenger was individually led to the elevator. An official pressed the button for the ninth floor as I rode alone.

When I arrived, another official greeted me and opened the door to a room I have come to know every nook and cranny of.

Officially, I cannot leave the room until midnight on January 30. That’s actually 15 days, not the promised 14.

This bit of news actually gut-punched me altogether harder than I might have expected. I blamed that reaction on the jet lag.

We’ll see how eternally long “Day 15” feels when it comes.

But “Day 16” is going to be incredible.