It was June. Restaurants were opening, children were laughing, birds were singing. Also, the virus was spreading at record speed. So needless to say, there was some conflicting messaging going on. When things first looked like they might be improving in early June, Nicole and I looked into going to the Azores in Portugal since they would allow visitors who could prove a negative covid test within the previous 72 hours. So the plan was to spend a few days in New Jersey and then fly out of Boston to go to the Azores. But after I landed in Newark, and as the EU began to negotiate its reopening, it became painfully clear the United States would not be welcome.

And thusly, we fell into depression. Not only would our passports and cameras be lonely, but I would be spending a record breaking amount of time in New Jersey. The following is a log of our adventures in the so-called “Garden State.”

Day One: I arrive. After several months away from the passenger seat, I was finally able to catch up on some movies — watching 1917 and Ford Versus Ferrari. Wearing a mask the entire flight was not as uncomfortable as I might have imagined, and it should become a permanent requirement so that people can no longer cough on me. It was a cougher on a JetBlue flight back in 2017 that gave me one of the worst sicknesses of my life. Never forget.

Day Two: Covid testing. Even though the Azores seemed like a remote possibility, it still felt like a good idea to get a test since we would be around Nicole’s parents. We await the results. Also on this day, visitors from Florida were asked to quarantine for two weeks if they enter the tri-state area.

Day Three: We walked around Grover Cleveland Park, named for the only president to have served two nonconsecutive terms. Wowzers. Signs were posted around the park to remind people to wear masks. The reality of this was mixed. We await the results of the Covid test.

Day Four: We borrowed Nicole’s parents old bicycles. They were heavy and a bit uncomfortable, but we were able to ride to the next town over (three blocks away). There we visited another park that had some wide trails in the woods. Nicole stood on a log. We await the results of the Covid test.

Day Five: It is now in excess of the 72 hour requirement that many travel destinations require for covid testing. Nicole and I lounged by the pool while we awaited the results of our Covid test.

Day Six: I watched Nicole organize some keepsakes in the attic while I practiced my Japanese. It was like a sauna. We visited another park in the evening in Verona, another nearby town (7 blocks away). Fun fact about Verona: their high school mascot is the “Hillbilly.” The sun was setting as we walked around the park. Again, masks were hit and miss. We came back home and were reminded that we haven’t heard anything about our Covid test.

Day Seven: A whole week! I have never been in New Jersey for so long. How good have I been?! So good! Someone had given us a gift card to a local tavern (and Caldwell, New Jersey’s only proper tavern for that matter). Needless to say, it’s difficult to use such gift cards when in California, so we took advantage. They were offering mystery “grab bags” with four unknown beers inside. Three were IPAs. As we awaited the results of our Covid test, we realized we would be halfway through the suggested quarantine if it comes back positive.

Day Eight: We are watching the NWSL challenge cup on TV. That is the women’s soccer league for those who are not in the know — which is presumably everyone. They are playing in a “bubble” outside of Salt Lake City in a sort of month long tournament. They are the first American team sport to play since the beginning of the pandemic. The Orlando Pride was uninvited after half the team tested positive. In an unrelated note, where did they get tested . . .and how long did it take to get the results? I’m awaiting mine.

Day Nine: Today Nicole drove me real far from Caldwell. We drove over 15 minutes to Montclair, New Jersey. We walked around the Van Vleck House & Gardens. I had been here previously, but in the winter when everything was dead, so it was nice to see some green and foliage. Back in Caldwell, I rescued a bumble bee from the swimming pool. Its wings appeared to be waterlogged and it couldn’t fly until they dried out. Also, it’s official. The United States is not welcome in Europe. The EU arrived at that decision due to the inability of this country to competently handle the spread of the virus and manage the response. I mean, that all seems a bit harsh. Obviously the lab that has our Covid tests just wants to do a REALLY thorough job in its analysis.

Day Ten: I had my first “dine-in” experience since the beginning of the pandemic. We sat outside in the parking lot of an Italian restaurant (there are many in Caldwell). I had a chicken parm sandwich. We intend to depart back to Los Angeles tomorrow. Remember in mid-March when JetBlue banned a passenger for life because they boarded with a pending covid test that came back positive later on? Is that us? Are we being bad? Or has the system just failed us? I mean, if the test comes back positive at this point, we’re realistically not even contagious anymore. So there’s that.

Day Eleven: Even with reduced passengers, Newark airport is still a dreadful place. I was passed around five different checkpoints before I was in the “correct” security lane. We got our seat assignments just as we neared the gate and we both got seats in business class. While flying business helps social distance from other people, it doesn’t really give you the royal treatment during a pandemic. The food just looked sad, and the ice cream sundae cart was certainly missed. Some five to six hours later, we landed in Los Angeles.

Day Twelve: It’s the 4th of July. I wore black. Illegal fireworks explode outside our window. The air quality has deteriorated due to the seemingly endless artillery assault happening around Los Angeles. Is that why I have a headache and seem to be having difficulty breathing? Or did it finally get me? Do I have the ‘rona? Confirmation would be nice.

Day Thirteen: It happened. I received a voicemail on my phone from the urgent clinic that conducted my covid test. The result was . . . Negative. Then I thought to myself, what if I needed that to travel somewhere? Disregard the nearly two weeks it took to get my result and think about how I got my result. Do I go to the gate agent and playback my voicemail? What if I had actually answered my phone? I’d have zero record of the result. Anyway, that in a nutshell is why Europe doesn’t want us, and that’s why you have to read about my time in New Jersey and not the Azores. Don’t worry, America. Maybe you’ll get it right next time.