What coronavirus quarantine will be like for the Britons returning from Wuhan

Simon Calder has advice for travellers returning from Wuhan about their time in isolation

Across the world, countries are imposing checks on passengers to try to reduce the spread of the virus (EPA)

The British travellers flying back from Wuhan aboard a repatriation flight deserve plenty of sympathy.

Most of them have been living and working in the city where the new coronavirus outbreak occurred. As their normal routines gradually shut down, they found themselves locked into a city where a rapidly spreading virus has claimed more than 130 lives.

They have been told that a British government evacuation “may happen quickly and with short notice” and were told to register by 11am local time, if they want to be part of the airlift.

I understand that an Asian airline will be contracted to operate the flight, which will land at a London airport sometime on Thursday.

The returning traveller, potentially (and inadvertently) infectious, can expect to be taken to and through the airport under armed guard. Scenes from real life will emulate the spookily prescient 2011 film Contagion.

More checks will be carried out prior to boarding a plane where every member of the crew from the captain down is likely to be wearing a face mask.

But it is the passengers who need to be wearing face masks – not for self-protection, but to reduce sharply the risk of spreading Wuhan Coronavirus.

I trust there will be industrial quantities of antiseptic wipes onboard, as keeping hands scrupulously clean is the best defence against picking up the virus.

Once the tensest flight in recent history arrives, the aircraft will be parked in a distant corner of the airport while medical staff assess the new arrivals.

Then they will be taken by bus under police escort, we think, to a specially prepared military camp somewhere in southern England. Another health assessment awaits, before the hapless passenger is checked into the glass-walled room that will be their world for the next fortnight.

My admission to Crawley Hospital with meningitis was not so dramatic, but it did provide an opportunity to preview what awaits the unfortunate arrivals.

They and their loved ones, talking to them through the glass on a phone link, will naturally be very worried at the prospect that they are incubating the virus. But the physical, as opposed to emotional, isolation experience is relatively comfortable.

Imagine a budget hotel where you are occasionally visited, prodded and fed by a succession of staff wearing hazmat outfits, and you get the general idea.

You won’t get a massage on the NHS, but on the plus side you won’t get a lumbar puncture (one of the fun aspects of meningitis) either.

Since this is the 21st century, you will be able to be in constant contact with loved ones – and able to consume media as you wish.

It won’t be a holiday. But if, as I pray, most people are found not to be infected, it will be a pause in life that will provide a story or two in later years.