While it feels almost a lifetime ago for some, it's been exactly three years since a state of emergency was declared in Western Australia as the novel coronavirus began to send shock waves around the world.
Already isolated by its geography, the unprecedented move cemented the state as a hermit kingdom and fundamentally changed the way sandgropers went about their daily lives.
This picture essay illustrates a pivotal and unsettling chapter in our history, and reflects how the virus dictated the way we lived.
Panic and confusion
COVID-19 was first detected in the Chinese city of Wuhan in December 2019, but the panic didn't set in until a couple of months later when news of mass deaths overseas was beamed in to living rooms across Australia.
The virus captivated the entire world, but the threat really hit home when Australia recorded its first COVID death on March 1 — a Perth man who had been aboard the Diamond Princess cruise ship.
Australians were given a stern warning to return home as soon as possible ahead of the country's border being slammed shut, with international arrivals forced into hotel quarantine in an effort to stop the deadly virus getting in.
The first round of COVID-19 restrictions, including gathering limits and indoor venue closures, started to give people an inkling of how much their lives were about to be turned upside down.
Holidays and big events were cancelled, weddings went online and Rottnest Island went from the home of quokka selfies to a quarantine hub for cruise ship passengers.
Lines curled around liquor stores as the fear of being locked down without a cold stubbie or red wine in hand was too much to bear for most, while subscriptions to streaming services went through the roof.
Grocery store shelves were stripped bare and arguments broke out in supermarket aisles as panic buying led to a nationwide toilet paper drought.
ABC reporter Francesca Mann dared to dream when she saw a shopper walk past her with the rare commodity at a Geraldton supermarket.
"I could not believe my eyes," she said.
"I quickly walked over to the toilet paper aisle and there were about seven packs left. It felt like the most valuable item at the time, so it got the royal treatment on the way home."
Mann snapped an equally humorous shot of her pet cat Arya sprawled across her desk in the first few days of working from home.
'Stop the spread'
The state introduced its first round of border restrictions at the end of March, restricting interstate travel to stop the virus spreading between regions and to protect vulnerable Indigenous communities.
On April 5, 2020, the WA government implemented its harshest border restrictions yet, slamming its borders shut — not just to international arrivals, but to the east as well.
It marked the beginning of an upsetting chapter in the state's history, leaving families divided for two years and living up to Premier Mark McGowan's promise to turn WA into an "island within an island".
The travel restrictions wreaked havoc on the tourism and events industries, but it also created a spike in domestic tourism when the state eased restrictions to allow West Australians to holiday in their own backyard.
Sandgropers swapped their annual pilgrimage to Bali for the sublime sunsets in Broome, the chance to swim with whale sharks in Exmouth or to see the ancient gorges in the Karijini National Park.
But Perth's bustling city centre had turned into a ghost town as West Australians dutifully obeyed restrictions, which shut down the city.
Just a few pedestrians could be spotted in Forrest Place in April, 2020. Image: Hugh Sando.
Even a trip to the beach came with reminders to practise social distancing. Image: Amelia Searson.
Trains crisscrossed the city virtually empty. Image: Hugh Sando.
The doors to restaurants, cafes and bars were shuttered. Image: Rebecca Mansell.
The state library was eerily empty. Image: Emma Wynne.
Children were cooped up inside as playgrounds closed. Image: Gian De Poloni.
Slogans like this started popping up around Perth as people banded together to face the crisis. Image: Damian Smith.
For weeks, the cruise ship Artania became the focus of a tense stand-off between the operator and Mr McGowan, who demanded it leave WA waters.
Anzac Day that year was unlike any other due to the traditional service and march being cancelled — the first time since 1942.
Veterans and families instead marked Anzac Day from the end of their suburban driveways.
By this stage, the virus dominated every aspect of our lives.
Even the security guard, Steve, who opened the door for the premier before he delivered his daily press conference, had become part of life under COVID.
Living inside the bubble
Restrictions were gradually eased in May after the virus was eliminated, allowing West Australians to continue living relatively normally for many months compared to what was happening over east.
With no community transmission, WA moved from a hard border to a controlled border in October, with authorities continually lowering and lifting the drawbridge in line with outbreaks in other states.
On December 5, a tool was unveiled that would dramatically change the way West Australians interacted with the world around them.
The trio of snap lockdowns
But it was impossible to keep the virus out forever, with the state's 10-month coronavirus-free streak ending on January 21, 2021 when a hotel quarantine security guard tested positive.
Perth was locked down twice more in 2021 — from April 24 to April 27 after a hotel quarantine outbreak and from June 29 to July 3 after three COVID cases were detected in the community.
Vaccine hesitancy takes hold
In October, one of the most divisive policies in WA's history was announced — mandatory vaccination for 75 per cent of the state's workforce.
Some were concerned about potential health impacts from the vaccine and felt it was impinging on people's right to have autonomy over their own bodies, while others felt it was the only way to reopen the borders and protect people from the virus.
When the double-dose vaccination rate reached 80 per cent in December, it was announced that WA would finally reopen its border to the rest of the world on February 5, 2022.
But the joy that rippled through the community was short-lived, with WA Premier Mark McGowan performing a sensational backflip just a few weeks later at a late night press conference when he announced the reopening would be delayed.
However, it turned out the virulent strain was circulating in the community anyway, and the virus started to spread significantly for the first time in two years.
'Let it rip'
On February 18, Mr McGowan made the announcement many had been waiting for — WA's hard border would come down on March 3 as he conceded it was no longer possible to stop the spread of the virus.
Many employers, including ABC News in Perth, quickly reverted to working from home arrangements for all but operationally critical staff to minimise the risk of spreading the virus in the workplace.
As case numbers grew, so too did tensions between the state government and peak medical groups that warned against easing restrictions, as cracks in the hospital system deepened.
After being on the frontline of the battle against COVID, health workers began rallying for better pay, which would eventually lead to full-scale industrial action.
As vaccination rates rose and the COVID outbreak in WA eased in April, the McGowan Government lifted most mask-wearing requirements but the Perth CBD remained a ghost town.
Most remaining restrictions were removed in May as the triple-dose vaccination rate hit 80 per cent, but many vulnerable West Australians chose to stay home to shield themselves from the virus.
But COVID continued to fade into the background for most, as the things that derailed our lives — lockdowns, mandatory isolation, mask and vaccine mandates— gradually became distant memories.
Living with the virus
People have learned how to live with the virus, and getting the vaccine has become about as normal as getting a yearly flu jab.
After 963 days, WA's state of emergency finally ended on November 4, but the heartache caused by the 956 people who lost their lives, and the far-reaching impact on society and people's livelihoods, will be felt for years to come.
