Traveling for the holidays? Stay masked up — omicron is out there, lurking | Opinion

When I took a quick trip to New York City a few days before Thanksgiving, I didn’t know the omicron COVID variant had already started circulating at a Japanese anime convention in the city. But I took a lot of precautions anyway — including eating outside one bone-chilling night with temperatures in the upper 30s — and I’m not sorry. With travelers crowding the airports now for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, they seem more relevant than ever.

The visit was for a pandemic-delayed wedding reception, and it was only my second time taking a plane trip since COVID turned everything upside down. Like everyone else, I was thoroughly weary of the pandemic. But I had also been the Miami Herald’s health-policy editor during 2020, as the pandemic began. I spent a year deeply immersed in the unfolding tragedy. I edited more heartbreaking stories of people dying alone in the hospital than I can remember, and I’ll never forget the bravery of healthcare workers who risked their lives to care for others. I embarked on this trip with those images still on my mind.

Like so many things during the pandemic, the wedding ceremony itself had been delayed several times and then whittled down to a tiny handful of immediate family members, masked in church pews to witness the exchange of vows. I watched it on Zoom from Miami.

The bride planned an in-person reception a year later, assuming — as we have all said so many times — that “things will be better by then.”

And it looked as though her timing was good. Transmission rates in New York and Miami were relatively low by mid-November. Everyone at the reception was required to provide proof of vaccination. I’d gotten a booster two weeks before, reasoning that it would be in full force by the time of the event.

Those are the kinds of calculations we make now.

I’d been in airports for my previous trip, so I was somewhat prepared for the incongruous sight of dozens of people eating in restaurants, drinking and talking without masks, even as the rest of us in the same building were masked up. I skirted that area carefully, thankful for my (heavily researched) mask with the high-grade removable filters and a tight fit on my face.

I’d made other calculations, too. I looked for less popular flights, to reduce my potential exposure to viral particles, and I’d factored in the amount of time I needed to be back home before testing myself to make sure I could safely attend Thanksgiving with older relatives. I spent extra money for seating in an exit row on the way back, when the flight looked to be more crowded. I didn’t remove my mask for more than a minute on the plane to sip water or take a bite of a snack. I didn’t dawdle in the airport on either end.

Dining outdoors

New York was something of a mixed bag. The hotel required vaccination proof and masks in the common areas, but I saw a handful of people without them, even on tightly packed elevators. At the outdoor Bryant Park ice skating rink, a mask requirement was strongly enforced. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, with its vast spaces and ceilings several stories high, required vaccination proof and masks, too.

But I had worried about indoor activities: eating out in the city or going to a show, always among the chief joys of New York. I was willing to take the risk only when it was unavoidable and important to me. That boiled down to attending one show, masked, and the reception.

Fortunately, a fair number of New York restaurants were still offering outdoor dining in small structures on the street or under building overhangs. Clear plastic panels covered the sides, flapping in the wind and allowing lots of air flow, but there were space heaters hanging from above to make the whole thing tolerable.

Dinner in a winter coat was a slight inconvenience — even with the heater, it was too cold to take it off — but it was pretty comfortable for the most part. As one waiter told me at dinner in the Meatpacking District, “We survived as a business by doing this last winter when it was 10 degrees colder. We can do it now.”

And yet, as in Miami, there were lots of fearless or foolish people eating inside — though in New York, restaurants require proof of vaccination, something Florida’s politicians have prohibited.

On Broadway

I went to a Broadway show with a fair amount of trepidation, one I’d been hoping to see since its pre-pandemic run in Miami — David Byrne’s “American Utopia.” Once again, vaccine proof was required and so were masks. Ushers held up signs at the front of the theater and weren’t shy about telling audience members to pull up their masks.

That was comforting, but I couldn’t quite turn off my inner worry machine. Remember those graphics showing how far viral particles can spread when people talk, shout or sing? When the audience got going, singing along and dancing, even with masks on, those visuals are hard to forget.

And yet, the show was great, uplifting — something we all need right now — and I remember thinking that if I didn’t get sick, I’d sure be happy I saw it.

But when I needed something from Macy’s, I took one look around the (mostly masked) pre-Christmas crowds and started speed-walking to the door and left. I spent the afternoon holed up in the hotel.

The reception was fun and joyful. The bride got to wear her dress for a second time. It was lovely to mix with friends almost the way we used to, a relief to lay down the pandemic burden for a few hours. But the after-party, in a bar, was too much for me. No one was masked. They’d had to show proof of vaccines at the door, but who knew if any of that was sufficient? Back to the hotel room.

In the end, none of us got sick. The trip was a success. I’m glad I was able to go. I enjoyed that David Byrne show.

But I was far more tired when I got back than I would have been after pre-pandemic trips that were longer and farther away. These 20 months of working from home and staying home have changed me. They’ve changed us.

And there was something else. During my few days in New York, I saw several people dressed in anime costumes. I walked behind groups of them for several blocks. Public-health authorities have now linked the November anime convention to omicron cases in New Jersey, New York and Minnesota, among other states.

So it turned out that omicron was in New York when I was there. And while we’re still assessing its impact and hoping it won’t be too severe, I’m glad I was cautious and was able to spend another Thanksgiving with my aging loved ones.

I don’t take trips lightly these days. I’m not sure I ever will again.

Amy Driscoll is the Miami Herald’s deputy editorial page editor.

This story was originally published December 22, 2021 at 3:11 PM.