Flutab is an excellent remedy for colds and flu. It is available in all good pharmacies in Abu Dhabi. It was recommended to me by a close friend who, before joining the teaching profession, used to be a pharmacist. This is how I know it to be excellent.

It has been a very long time, beloved reader, since my last Blog. This is because the previous installment was the last time I did any traveling of any interest. Christmas was spent in the UK and, much more due to necessity than want, so was Spring Break. (International School jargon is getting the better of me after two years; I do of course mean Easter Holidays). Suffice to say business has been taken care of such that will enable me to undertake much more traveling over the next two years and, In sha’Allah, more exciting missives from far flung corners.

The reason I say the next two years is down to the system of recruitment in the world of international schools. You complete two year contracts which are then renewed mutually or not. Earlier this year, for example, I was called to a meeting and told I had a second contract. That simple. No cheese-smelling required of any sort. It is a convenient system that appeals warmly to my lifelong love of the non-permanent. Ongoing (but rapidly disappearing) Covid restrictions and the aforementioned business in the UK have made it another fruitless year travel-wise (Georgia aside) and so two more years seemed not only desirable but necessary.

And so I write on the final day of my second academic year in Abu Dhabi. This is always a reflective time for teachers, sometimes even more so than the end of the calendar year (my time in teaching has caused a sort of pedagogical body clock to develop) and so I am left pondering two whole years of A Teacher Abroad. Whilst year one yielded much to write about, year two heralded the end of the honeymoon. But in a good way. Oh, such a good way. Gone were many of the more stringent Covid Rules and in their place came more opportunities. I have done so much more, discovered so much more, met so many more people. Become so much more of the fabric. A more ‘normal’ year has made for a happy blogger but, unfortunately, with less to blog about.

Until it came to the end of this term….

‘Normal’ is a word that in no way can describe the end of my Summer Term. This is always a strange time anyway; classes moving on, children moving up a year, end of term functions and leaving dos. Goodbyes are inevitable and even more so in the transient world of expat life. The story takes place seven days before breaking up. The last reports were being proofread, lessons were giving way to the usual ‘off timetable’ activities and the light was very much at the end of the tunnel. The alarm rose me from the weary, ‘nearly there’ slumber only known by a teacher in the early weeks of July. I rose, went to boil the kettle for the gallon of coffee I and every other of my colleagues require on a daily basis before facing the music. As I made my way to the shower, something stirred deep down in the chest…

… a new cough.

Oh great. An end of term bug. Well, it’s not like I haven’t had one of those before. The travel mug was filled with strong, steaming, black caffeinated joy and off I trot. Lessons one and two passed. I was coughing and shattered, but I was a teacher at the end of the year. Nothing too out of the norm.

Lesson three. Year 7. I felt wrong. Like really wrong. I got through it, sent the necessary emails and dragged myself back to the apartment. Bed. Luckily in Abu Dhabi (which should read ‘typically for Abu Dhabi’) you can order a PCR test at your apartment. That is to say, you go on an app, pay and in a few hours a nurse physically turns up and tests you. (Clarification on this is for any UK audience who are always confused by the fact that lateral flow tests do not exist here, or are certainly not recognised). Afternoon turned into evening. ‘Wrong’ turned into fever.

My friend left a box of Flutab on my doorstep.

The next day the text arrived. The PCR result. After two and a half years of (somewhat cockily it now seems) presumed natural immunity, it had caught up with me. The Virus.

And so as everyone prepared themselves for the frivolities, farewells and flights, I prepared myself for drowsiness and duvet days. More importantly, I prepared myself for the chance that I may not get a negative test before the end of my 10 day isolation (which is only mandatory if you are unable to test negative twice before then) which would cause a delay in my travel. My preparations turned out not to be in vain.

To make up for my Blog absence there will be a Part 2 coming to you from the island of Crete, where I am holidaying on route to the UK. The Virus has shortened this from a week to a five day break, however the chance to report back will be grabbed with both hands.

For now, I must leave you as I have forgotten to pack the Flutab…