Travel in the Time of Covid - How Entering, Exploring, and Exiting Countries Has Changed

From Andrew

The author riding the Medellín cable cars.

Like the vast majority of US citizens, prior to January 12th of this year I hadn’t left the country on a commercial flight since December 2019. Waiting in the Delta lounge at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, I was a little worried—what if the entry requirements for the countries we planned to visit had changed unexpectedly? What if, when we arrived, the places we planned to explore had shut down? As usual, reading the mainstream news in the States one would think that the world outside our borders is a chaotic and unwelcoming place. 18 days and three countries later, armed with little more than a cheap black surgical mask and a partially torn vaccine card reflecting my three Pfizer jabs, I’d like to think I have current knowledge on the state of travel in 2022. Bottom line, it’s better than you think. But it’s certainly not normal.

ONE: PRICES HAVE GONE UP

When we landed in Belize City, passing through customs was pre-Covid simple. Aside from an additional kiosk where a bored Belizean woman checked our vaccination cards and confirmed the negative results of the rapid antigen tests we’d taken 48 hours prior to departure, it seemed little changed from any customs process anywhere in the world. Prior to receiving our entry stamps we were asked where we planned to stay, and how long we planned to be in the country. But no proof of exit plans were requested, nor were we asked to prove that we had reservations at the places we listed. The whole process seemed like a formality that was adhered to, but just barely.

At the taxi stand outside, however, the price for a ride from the airport to the departure docks for the ferry that would take us to Caye Caulker had increased from $20 to $25 USD. “It is a fixed fee,” the driver said, almost apologetically.

The author in the jungle highlands outside San Ignacio, Belize. Photo by Kira Leclair.

We were lucky at the ferry, and paid the normal fee for the 45 minute trip to the gorgeous sandy islands off the coast of Belize. But we ran into a couple of fellow travelers the next week that had been quoted double the normal price for that round trip ferry to Caye Caulker. While they negotiated the price down to the standard $36 USD round trip, I wondered how many casual travelers would argue against that exorbitant fee.

Tourist inflation has seemingly hit Tulum, too. Ticket fees for the Tulum ruins and Cenote Calaveras have both increased. Any attempts to negotiate were met with stone faces, so we paid the requested prices that seemed a little dependent on the whims of the individuals behind the ticket counters.

While I have no hard numbers to back this up, it seems that prices for accommodations have also increased, at least for traditionally budget-friendly hostels and Airbnbs. When reading older blog posts to research destinations, I found that our budget was consistently higher than what others said they could get by on just three years ago. Even simple expenses, like renting a bike in Tulum, has increased from around $5 USD per day to roughly $7.50.

While these increased expenses might not seem like a lot, they add up over time. And for travelers on a very tight budget, it’s worth being aware of the fact that Covid-related changes seem to have increased the average daily costs of travel roughly 10-15%.

TWO: BUT CLEANLINESS STANDARDS HAVE ALSO INCREASED

If you’re reading this and you know me personally, you’re probably aware that I’m a bit of a clean freak. I like having clean hands, and I especially loathe the idea of servers in restaurants sneezing on my food. So I was happy to see big bottles of hand sanitizer at the entrance of pretty much every building, and all of the employees in almost every restaurant we visited were wearing masks.

Some of the cleanliness standards I’ve seen so far have been confusing, like the rubber doormats filled with some form of sanitizing liquid that sit just inside almost every door in Tulum and Medellín. I have no idea what they’re supposed to do, other than clean the bottom of your shoes, but, hey, I’ll step on them.

This is also probably an appropriate place to talk about wearing masks in public. Obviously it varies by location, but for the most part the standard is no different than in any major US city, and almost across the board everyone complies. Masks are mandatory in pretty much any indoor space, including public transportation and taxis, unless you’re seated at a table or the bar. Gyms are also exempt.

The most strict mask standards we’ve encountered so far were in Belize, where masks are mandatory outdoors unless you’re performing physical activity or on the beach. In Caye Caulker I saw the local police (who, as an aside, patrol the island on a golf cart) stop multiple people for not wearing a mask. The fine for violating this rule in Belize is $250 USD, reduced from $500 at the height of the pandemic. That being said, the golf cart-riding cops didn’t fine anyone, at least that I saw.

In Tulum and Medellín, rules are a little less strict. To my knowledge there are no outdoor mask mandates in Mexico; if there are, no one complies with them. But it’s still not out of the ordinary to see both tourists and locals wearing masks on the street. In Medellín the rules are even more vague. Our walking tour guide informed us that masks are mandatory, but roughly half of the population, including uniformed police and military, don’t seem to follow the mandate. I think, possibly, it’s more of a recommendation than a hard rule.

THREE: CROSSING LAND BORDERS IS HARD - BUT NOT ALWAYS IMPOSSIBLE

When I quizzed locals on the status of bus routes from Belize City to Tulum, the answers I received varied wildly. Pre-Covid, travelers could easily take an overnight coach bus operated by the Mexican company ADO from Belize City to Tulum for around $20 USD. Unfortunately that route no longer runs due to the difficulty of crossing the Belizean border. I was even told by several locals that the border was completely closed, which induced a mild degree of panic, since crossing the border overland was the only plan we had (or could reasonably afford) to get to Tulum.

Luckily the Belizean public bus system is still running (you can read about our trip from San Ignacio to Corozal here) and the border crossing between Corozal and Chetumal is open. But in a somewhat bizarre rule, only foreigners are allowed to cross. Our taxi driver from Corozal to the border checkpoint lamented that he could no longer pop across the border for medical treatment or to go shopping at the mall in Chetumal. I felt guilty that, as an American, I could freely leave Belize, but a Belizean citizen was effectively trapped.

Passing through the Belizean checkpoint was similarly bizarre. One of the uniformed guards was incredibly helpful, but the actual customs official that checked our paperwork was standoffish and difficult. She used her personal phone to take photos of our passports and other documents, and seemed to be intentionally delaying our departure, as if she were trying to keep us waiting until the border closed at 5pm to keep us in her country longer. Despite the fact that we were the only travelers at the checkpoint, the process took about 45 minutes; it would’ve been longer if we hadn’t acquiesced to one guard’s demands that we let him call a taxi to take us from the Belizean checkpoint to the Mexican side. Once he thought he’d be earning a kickback from these two gringos he gave us our exit stamps, and as soon as we got outside we quickly ditched the waiting cab driver and simply walked the roughly two kilometers to the Mexican checkpoint where, predictably, entering Mexico was a breeze.

From Chetumal the bus trip to Tulum was simple, and we relied on comfortable ADO coach buses to take us on that roughly 3 hour trip, and then, a week later, to take us from Tulum to the International airport in Cancun.

While we were lucky to be able to cross overland into Mexico, other crossings are still closed. For example, despite efforts on the part of the Peruvian government to open their border with Ecuador, the Ecuadorian government is keeping their side locked down, meaning it’s no longer a simple task to fly into Quito, explore Ecuador by bus, and then transit overland into Peru, as we had initially planned to do. While that border was scheduled to reopen in mid December, neither governments’ official website has been updated between then and now. As much as we would’ve loved to explore Ecuador, the testing requirements combined with needing to fly both in and out of the country have led us to make the tough decision to postpone our trip there til (hopefully) the pandemic has fully subsided and access returns to a pre-Covid normal.

I think, sadly, all of this anecdotal information just shows that the days of cheap travel on the traditional Latin American backpacker trails are over, at least for now. With the current difficulty and uncertainty of land border crossings, the costs associated with transiting through multiple countries has skyrocketed. It’s still doable, but unfortunately in many cases (for example getting from Bogota to Lima) expensive flights are the only way to make the trip. While Kira and I have decided to keep traveling as we planned, despite the increased costs, we’ve definitely experienced some sticker shock along the way, and it’s important to be aware of these costs as you plan your own extended travels in the region.

FOUR: MAJOR ATTRACTIONS ARE STILL OPEN

The ATM Caves in San Ignacio. The cenotes in Tulum. Comuna 13 in Medellín. All of these key attractions are open and totally worth visiting, each for their own unique reasons. While I’ve visited all three of these locations for the first time in the last few weeks, and thus I have no pre-pandemic experience to compare them to, there didn’t seem to be any major changes to the experience of visiting these bucket list destinations.

I choose to take this as a glimmer of hope in the face of increased travel difficulty. While we can debate the sustainability and morality of these communities’ reliance on tourist dollars, the facts are that tourism makes up a huge percentage of the economic revenue in all of these destinations. In San Ignacio and Medellín, in particular, you could tell that the local people we encountered were visibly happy that tourism is returning to their communities. We spoke with multiple people that expressed how difficult it was to earn a living early in the pandemic, during the lockdowns. As someone that considers himself a mindful traveler, I appreciated that our presence in these locations was welcomed. And I hope that other travelers will also get back on the road, and in turn support individuals like our guides Charles, Germán, and Hectór as they earn their livings through tourism.

I also think it’s worth noting that the volume of tourism seems to be getting back to normal. While we had no difficulty booking our visit to the ATM Caves just a couple days in advance, I think that was mostly due to luck. The beaches in Caye Caulker were bustling, and hostels in Tulum for the most part had little to no available beds. Our guide in Comuna 13 said that just a couple weeks ago, during the high season of Colombian travel from mid December to mid January, you could barely walk through his neighborhood due to the volume of tourists. Keep that in mind as you plan your travel, and don’t wait til the last minute to try to book a once in a lifetime experience. For example, we booked our Inca Trail trek in October.

FIVE: BUT “OPEN” MEANS DIFFERENT THINGS IN DIFFERENT PLACES

As I wrote in the previous section, most of the highlights of a given destination are open for visitors, at least in Central and South America. However, they aren’t always open at the times or dates they list online, and if you pay attention you’ll see lingering signs of the pandemic wherever you travel.

If that seems like a minor inconvenience, you’re right, it is. But minor inconveniences seem pretty major when you desperately need a public restroom, and they’re all closed; or when you walk across town just to find out that the bar where you planned to grab a drink has closed early, or maybe wasn’t open at all.

From an academic perspective, it’s interesting to see that the supply chain difficulties and labor shortages that are currently effecting the United States aren’t limited to our borders. They’re also plaguing our southern neighbors, and I can almost guarantee you’ll experience some ripple effect of those global problems when you’re traveling abroad. In most cases it’ll be something minor, like only one functioning ATM in a bank of four or five, or the unexplained shortage of Club Colombia beer in Medellín.

But it’s possible that those minor inconveniences could turn major with little to no notice. Make sure you’re aware of local conditions to the best of your ability—something that I’ve been working on, but still haven’t mastered. Some cues, like wearing masks outdoors, are pretty easy to pick up on just from observing the people around you. Others are a little more difficult. For example, our taxi driver from Corozal to the Mexican border told us that there’s a nationwide curfew in Belize from 11pm til 4am. Luckily I’m an early to bed kind of guy, and I’m unsure of how strictly enforced that curfew is in touristy areas, but I wish I’d done more research prior to landing in Belize, if for no other reason than to avoid any potential run-ins with the cops.

•••

There are lots of reasons to rejoice in travel. Some are simple, like the indescribable pleasure you get from eating a fresh taco de asada from a street vendor in Mexico, or the blissful first sip of a Colombian mojito. (Don’t ask me why, but Colombians make, hands fucking down, the best mojitos I’ve ever drank.) Other joys require a little more observation and introspection. So far, almost three weeks into what will hopefully be a twelve week extended journey around the globe, I’ve learned that the world is still in a fragile place, and as travelers I think it’s important to acknowledge and respect that. I’ve tried my best to go out of my way to say thank you, and to greet everyone I meet with a smile and an extra dose of gratitude. But I’ve also seen the work that the average Belizean, Mexican, and Colombian is willing to put in to bring their homes back to what will probably become a better version of normal, in many ways without even realizing it. That is a huge reason for travelers everywhere to rejoice. And to hit the road.