LOST IN TRANSIT

JUST ABOUT EVERY married couple can tell you a story about the last-minute twist that nearly derailed their wedding: unexpected food poisoning, maybe, or the sudden flare-up of a family feud. For Bianca and her husband Carl, it was the deadly pandemic that turned the location of their big day into an 800-square-kilometre biohazard. Getting married in the middle of it turned out to be the easy part.

Bianca is a Kiwi; Carl is an American. (The couple requested pseudonyms to protect their privacy.) They met in the United States in late 2019 while Bianca was on a work trip and began a long-distance romance that saw her shuttling back and forth between Auckland and New York. After a few months, they decided to marry, setting the date for March 2020. It would be a small wedding, with Carl’ best friend and his partner attending in person, and Bianca’s elderly parents and loved ones around New Zealand tuning in via FaceTime.

By the time Bianca left for New York, the World Health Organization had declared the coronavirus a pandemic. Almost as soon as she landed, her social media was aflame with news of rising cases and closures in the city. As she scrambled to salvage her wedding, her travel agent warned her of a much bigger problem: flights back to New Zealand were disappearing. With no US immigration status beyond a three-month travel authorisation and family obligations at home, Bianca had to go back. They married on her fourth morning in New York, with disposable gloves on their celebrant’s hands and only a photographer in attendance. That afternoon, Bianca was on a flight home. Carl, who has no New Zealand immigration status, had to stay behind.

“We really didn’t even get to have a meal together,” she recalls.

The newlyweds were anxious to be reunited. In September, with the US logging tens of thousands of infections per day, Bianca flew to “the worst place to visit on earth” for their honeymoon. She intended to stay four weeks. Shortly after she booked the trip, the New Zealand government announced that it would start charging travellers for managed isolation and quarantine (MIQ), adding $3,100 to an already pricey trip and halving her time with Carl. Flying back and forth was no longer an option.

So the two turned to getting Carl a critical purpose visitor visa (CPVV) for New Zealand. On paper, they had a good case. They were married, she had lived in his home on several visits, they had proof of shared financial transactions, and he was the