It’s February, which means it’s about time I scribbled down my rundown of what on earth happened to me in 2021. Mainly for my memory’s sake, you know how it goes. If you’re not interested in reading a personal account of one lass’s 2021- then I shall not blame you one bit! Let’s face it, this has been another rollercoaster of a year, hasn’t it?
If you’re curious about where my life was at, just before the pandemic began, start at 2020 and work your way along.
Good things will happen again! Mainly because, they simply must. I have not got the foggiest idea what 2021 will bring, but I reckon that’s what makes it so exciting. In a slightly terrifying, but hopefully, very good way.
Me, at the end of 2020. Ever the optimist, apparently.
Had enough of all this jibber-jabbering and want to get to the good stuff? Read on, dear pal!
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January
Oh, January. The longest of all the months. Every. Single. Year.
I began 2021 in my little Airbnb in Eastbourne; the same one which I’d become trapped in at the beginning of the pandemic in March 2020. Using the word ‘trapped’ gives the impression that it wasn’t a fun place to be, and that was not the case at all. I was extremely lucky, and loving the fact that I got to live temporarily in a really beaut Airbnb with really lovely owners. But in all honesty, having spent the majority of the previous four years outside of England, not being able to leave the country was giving me a strong sense of claustrophobia. Things were really starting to take their toll.
England was in lockdown number three, and I was living alone. However, I was still allowed to be in a ‘bubble’ with another household- so at least once a week I’d go and hang out with my lovely pals Alicia, Alex and Nora. What a beaut bunch they are! (On a side note, using the word ‘bubble’ to describe anything other than an actual real life bubble, is something I’d like to scrap on the double. I’ve had it up to here with bubbles.) My friend Marky was back from Australia, so we also found ourselves on several freezing cold beach walks; despite the chillblains I was full on happy to have him back.
During 2020 I’d been teaching singing lessons online (and in person when it was possible), but that alone is not enough to pay the bills, so I’d been working in a pub in Eastbourne as well. When all the pubs were forcibly closed for the third lockdown, most of the staff were furloughed. But alas- for various technical reasons I only qualified for approximately £100 a month in furlough pay. When you’ve got rent to pay, this is not okay.
Luckily the pub was allowed to reopen to sell takeaway drinks and food, so I was one of a handful of staff members who bypassed the furlough scheme and went into work instead. We spent the first few days deep-cleaning the entire building from top to bottom, and then waited for the punters to appear at the door.
An average of three customers showed up daily, but what can ya do!? At least I was getting paid.
February
February continued, and we got into our lockdown routine in the pub, which turned out to be weirdly alright, all things considered. Being able to go into work every day helped to keep me on the saner side of life during those wintery months when I was way less inclined to go stomping across the South Downs, like I did in the first lockdown.
Good old Ian brought in a VR headset which is one of the better inventions of the modern era in my opinion, and we spent several shifts turning the empty pub into an arena to compete at Beat Saber. In between serving customers (by February we were averaging about eight a day), and cleaning, I attempted to learn German and keep my vocal cords in check with singing practice.
Zoom birthdays, baby showers and singing and dance lessons continued; which was a beaut way of staying in touch with people, but was also starting to take its toll. For me, life through a screen is not really life at all.
March
One whole year since the start of the first lockdown. Spring finally started to show its first signs of springing, thank goodness!! My walks got a little bit sunnier, and praise the lord all round that my mood started to lift with the sunshine.
The pub continued to open for takeaways only, despite making approximately £45 a day, and to keep things interesting every now and again we’d occasionally go off on a tour of the theatres either side. (Bringing my camera with me of course.) Spending several months with Lee the chef, Alex the manager, and every now and then Ian, Matt or Dave, was not how I ever would’ve pictured my life being at 32 years of age, although it was in hindsight a strangely funny time. The pub had also become an unofficial Daddy Day Care, with Lee and Alex having to bring their kids in when other childcare wasn’t available. Which made the whole experience all together way more fun.
Other than our theatre explorations and as many beach walks as possible, I spent most of March sat in the front window of the pub in the style of Rear Window, spying on the ice cream parlour opposite who I’m still 87% certain are low key mafia. Possibly.
April
April came around and so did the end of an era. A couple more staff members returned from furlough as punters were allowed to drink outside. I for one was in absolute shock at the number of people who were happy to stand in the pouring rain with a pint in hand at all hours of the day, and it turned out to be quite a busy time indeed. Stressfully so. We set up a temporary bar in a doorway complete with disco lights, a cocktail menu and bunting swinging from the rafters, and attracted all manner of weird and wonderful regulars new and old.
(The Hammer Kid was my personal favourite, for the drama alone.)
Trainloads of students chugged down to Eastbourne every weekend to stroll across the South Downs Way and chug takeaway bottles of beer on their way back, and most Sundays a different vintage bus would park up outside, which was almost always the highlight of my week.
One of the theatres next door was turned into a vaccination centre, and I rushed to get my first jab so that I could go back to work as soon as it was possible. I almost died after that one, when I woke up that night with the worst fever of my life and subsequently passed out at the top of the stairs. I tumbled down them, jolting awake when my head hit the wooden slab at the bottom, and spent the night shivering on the floor thinking how hilarious it was that I was about to die from taking something that’s supposed to save you.
Luckily I didn’t die, just had an almighty patchwork of bruises and a strong sense of relief.
May
By May my time in the Airbnb was up, as normal bookings became possible again. I went to stay with my lovely friend Lavinia and her family so that I could keep on working in the pub, and teaching now that face-to-face lessons were allowed. After relying on my savings a lot to get me through 2020, I basically needed to do whatever I could to replenish them. So I worked my little socks off, didn’t I!?
At the end of the month I headed off to Cornwall with Alicia and her family for a little mini holiday. And what an absolute joy that was!! I’d never been to Cornwall before, and had a beaut time exploring with my pals, in some real life actual sunshine. Glorious. This was the first time that people in the UK were allowed to go on actual UK holidays, so it honestly felt like the rest of the country was exploring Cornwall as well; and I don’t blame them.
We stuck to Northern Cornwall, where the weather was warm and the water was still icy cold; but I’ll tell you something, visiting somewhere new in England made me appreciate this little island of ours a tad more than I had been so far.
June
I’d spent a lot of time over the previous couple of months choreographing a music video for one of my many sisters, which we filmed at the beginning of June around East Sussex. Plenty of people would not be that up for plunging themselves into the freezing cold English Channel at 6 o’clock in the morning, but these are the moments that really break life up into memorable pieces- so I was altogether very much loving it. And the dancers did bloomin’ awesomely.
I carried on with my normal jobs and picked another couple up, teaching in Brighton and spending a whole lot of time going back and forth. It was a bit of an odd feeling when I first saw a crowd of people gathered round a busker on the way to work; it had really been a while, you know?
I explored locally as much as I could, although really what this boiled down to was getting in as many walks as possible, mostly around places I’d already been to and could easily get back to work from. At the end of the month my good old pal Chris took me off to Broadstairs for a birthday getaway; what a cute place and what a great friend. I’m glad to have seen just a little bit more of England at least, during this calamitous couple of years.
Me and my pal Haz had our birthday picnic with all my pals and all their children, which in true English summer style, took place almost entirely in the rain. But it was still marvellous, regardless. Happy birthday to us.
July
Here begins the month of the Leap of Faith. After almost complete burnout from the six thousand jobs, I decided that when the summer term ended I would head on back to Kent to stay with my Birminan for a while. (My Nan, from Birmingham, you might recall her.) I didn’t mind leaving most of the jobs, but boy oh boy did I feel sad to leave my students. Many of them had been with me right the way from the first lockdown, and I’m so proud of how far they’d all come on in that year and a half; these youngsters are absolutely incredible. (I dread to think how I would’ve coped with all this if it had happened when I was their age.)
I had wedding gigs booked here and there over the summer, and a few Zoom lessons to teach. But I was mostly hedging my bets on the fact that- hopefully- I’d soon be able to go back to work. As in, my actual work, on cruise ships.
My pal Rachel and I developed some ideas for shows of our own, and sent them off to the casting department, keeping our fingers extremely tightly crossed that something would happen. (And happen sooner rather than later.) Before the end of the month, the leap of faith only went and paid off, didn’t it!? A contract was coming our way.
We’d be going on board for a month at a time, this time as staff members instead of crew. (To cut a long, technical story short, this basically means that we’d be living in passenger cabins and would have no safety duties. We’d also be eating in passenger restaurants, which is a significant improvement to the crew mess offerings, to be frank.)
August
We spent the beginning of August rehearsing in our separate countries, editing set lists on an almost daily basis and learning as we went, cutting music together and apart and back together again. It was quite the process, pals. Garage Band is a whole new world.
Aside from the wedding gigs, it was all about the rehearsals, and I practiced daily in the conservatory with an audience of sheep in the field out the back. They were surprisingly attentive, I have to say.
Towards the end of the month I decided it was about time I stopped with the England claustrophobia and jump on a plane again; my destination was a toss-up between Croatia or Greece, and Greece won. I flew over to Santorini for a week, which was absolutely glorious.
I spent half the week at Caveland Hostel, which is one of the prettiest hostels I’ve ever stayed at- and where it suddenly hit me how nice it is to sit and spend an evening with complete strangers, after such a long time. The other half of the week I was booked into a beautiful Airbnb in Pyrgos, where I mostly strolled around at all hours of the day and night taking photos of every single inch of Santorini life. It was lovely.
September
After a couple of weeks at home, I flew to Hamburg to reunite with Rachel and embark the AIDAMar. What a time to be alive! I had managed to travel to Germany during the Summer of 2020, but that was before mass Covid testing was really a thing. Now I needed a different kind of Covid test any time I flew anywhere. Some countries needed a PCR test, others just a Lateral Flow or Antigen. And don’t even get me started on flying back to the UK. Those rules seemed to change on a daily basis.
And once I boarded the ship, there were more tests to be taken, normally every couple of days. Masks had to be worn at all times unless in the cabin or eating, and parties on board were no longer a thing. Due to the regulations in Norway, only fully vaccinated people were allowed on board.
It was awesome to be back with my pal, and not just to hang out but also to work. On the very same stage! Incredible. Rachel isn’t just a talented lass, she’s also hilarious, and I couldn’t think of anyone I’d be so happy to go back to work with. We finalised our set lists, sorted out our stage movement and premiered at the end of September. I felt so lucky to be singing for audiences again, even if the audiences were all behind masks. (It’s kind of hard to tell whether they’re enjoying it or not, when all you can make out is two pairs of eyes staring back from each person. Not a smile to be seen. Bizarre.)
I met my (now) boyfriend, which came as quite a surprise in the midst of a pandemic, that’s for sure. And aside from all this excitement me and Rachel became a little too accustomed to the Buffet Lifestyle- because all of a sudden, for a month at a time, all of our meals were obtained from a rather grand buffet. I never thought I’d have been eating lobster and caviar on a weekly basis, but that’s just what you get on Farewell Evening, pals.
What a weird life I lead.
October
AidaMar was sailing on seven day cruises from Hamburg to the Norwegian Fjords- a route which I’d sailed on before, but never in Autumn. It was getting colder but also prettier, and having worked on this route I definitely think Autumn is the best season to visit Norway in. We hiked up and down the mountains in Geiranger and Ålesund, and sat in cozy coffee shops in Stavanger and Bergen.
The entertainment team on this ship was so blooming marvellous that they’d set us off to a great start with our shows, and both of us were sad when the contract neared its end.
In the final week on board, just before a performance, I got the news that my lovely grandad had gone into a hospice. Which was devastating. I’d hoped that I might get to see him at least one more time when I got home, but a few days later he passed away. It was a strange feeling to be so far away when something so big and overwhelmingly sad happens; and doubly so to get on stage and be full of energy and entertain a crowd of people. Somehow it seems to be a recurring theme for me to get sad news mere moments before stepping on stage to be happy.
By the end of the month I was back in England, with my boyfriend in tow. We went to London- which was the first time I’d visited since before the pandemic began, and the first time that he’d visited, ever. Aside from the masks it was pretty much the same, although the at-your-seat ordering during Come From Away was actually a welcome change. (And by the way, Come From Away is an altogether marvellous show, so if you’re looking for something to see in London then I recommend it wholeheartedly.) And after London, onwards to good old Eastbourne. It was a nice antidote to a bit of an emotional month.
November
After two weeks at home in England, I was back on a plane. This time, to the Dominican Republic, for some Caribbean sunshine (and more work).
The sunshine and work were the plusses, but the minus was that taking the contract meant missing my grandad’s funeral. Oddly, live streaming funerals is very much a thing these days, although all the way in the Caribbean with dodgy ship internet it isn’t really a thing at all. I spent approximately an hour refreshing the page and feeling like I was spying on my family, with only a still image occasionally visible. These times that we live in are just so strange, aren’t they?
In the end, I gave up, and after an emotional morning went out with Rachel in hunt of a beach and a bar to toast my grandad in. We stumbled upon a tiny beach shack at Long Bay Beach in Tortola, and were served the most gigantic servings of rum and coke (9 parts rum to 1 part coke) that I’ve ever seen or drunk. Plus an extra shot from the owner. It was one of the more memorable days of the contract, that’s for sure.
Rules on this ship were a lot stricter, and Rachel and I had to keep completely separate from the rest of the crew. No crew bar, no Deck 6, no crew laundry. The Covid testing was more frequent, and passenger numbers were fewer, presumably because it’s a slightly bigger risk to book a holiday to the Caribbean during a pandemic than to Europe. Still, we were very grateful for the balcony cabins and continued Buffet Lifestyles. After a year and a half of no work, we would very much be making the most of these privileges while we still could.
We were calling at La Romana and Samaná in the Dominican Republic, Antigua, St Kitts, Aruba, Bonaire, Curaçao, St Maarten and Tortola. The latter five of which I’d never visited before; the sheer luck I had of getting to visit new places during 2021 wasn’t lost on me, that’s for sure. It was humid and sunshiny and I was so grateful to be enjoying warmth in the middle of winter. I am not a winter kind of gal, you guys.
December
In early December, there were a few islands which we weren’t able to explore anymore as numbers were starting to go up again. If I’m honest we didn’t really know whether that was numbers on the islands or numbers amongst the German passengers, and after what turned out to be quite a rocky contract work-wise, we were weirdly fine about leaving the Caribbean.
Just before Christmas I flew out to visit Slaven on his ship in the Canary Islands, and big shocker of shocks (because I’m normally a scaredy-cat with all manner of things), spent a day riding around Madeira on a motorbike. Well, he was driving. I was just taking in the view, which was unfortunately mostly clouds. We’ll be back there in March to explore some more.
I spent Christmas back in Eastbourne, in the little Airbnb where I’d begun the year. So I came full circle, with a surprising number of weird and wonderful adventures in between. The main word on the street was simply ‘Omicron,’ which I’d quite enjoyed avoiding by living on ships up until that point, although it terrified me enough that I barely saw a soul while I was back in the country. Not because I was afraid of being ill, but because of the fact that testing positive could prevent me from returning to work. I’m so sick and tired of this virus. Me and the rest of the world.
On December 31st my train to Gatwick was cancelled because of short-staffing due to Covid. Luckily I still made it to the airport, and boarded my flight to Dubai, where I landed at exactly 00:00 on the 1st of January 2022.
These days I’m in a constant state of confusion about which country I’m in and where I’m going next and what on earth I’m supposed to pack. I’ve also forked out just over €1000 for various Covid tests since I began travelling again in August. (Thank god some of these count as expenses, as that is just mental as far as I’m concerned.)
But oh boy oh boy oh boy. 2021 is a rollercoaster which I’m very glad to have ridden on. Full of more twists and turns and ups and downs and strange surprises than I ever could have predicted. I can’t wait to see what this year will bring.
Are you curious about next year, too? Put your email in here and I’ll let you know when I know.