I arrived in Australia at the weekend from the Philippines. It was a difficult and expensive two-day journey during which time I had to take precautions not to expose myself to the novel coronavirus. In doing so I would also ensure that I would not expose others if I was already unwittingly a carrier of the COVID-19 virus. As it turned out the only place I felt exposed during the long journey was on my final Qantas domestic flight within Australia. It was disappointing that an otherwise excellent airline hasn't yet trained their staff how to handle asymptomatic travellers who might possibly be infected. The key to that is social distancing. Qantas totally failed in that regard.

This is what happened:

I had originally planned to sit out the pandemic at our home at Timberland Heights, San Mateo, in the hills to the east of Metro Manila with our two helpers. My wife was already in Brisbane visiting our children and grandchildren, so she was fine. Infections were rapidly increasing in the Philippines, and we were put into a lockdown mode about two weeks ago. There was immediately panic buying, but I managed to get enough food supplies in for about three weeks before the lockdown took effect.

As Timberland Heights is a fairly isolated gated community with good security, I initially felt that I had made the right decision to stay, despite many other expatriates returning to their home countries. There were good hospitals in Manila, and supermarkets were already implementing 2 metre social distancing rules and limiting the number of customers inside their shops at any one time. 

As the initial lockdown was for Metro Manila only, I could still travel to the adjacent provincial city of Antipolo for perishables. There were more supermarkets in Antipolo selling western foods, so I was planning to keep our pantry stocked up from maybe a fortnightly trip to Antipolo. But then the lockdown was extended to Luzon-wide so I could no longer travel to Antipolo and could only shop within the municipality where we were located - which has a very limited selection of food products for westerners. 

Then another change occurred. Everyone over 60 years of age was subjected to a 24 hour curfew, which meant I could no longer leave the house. Our helpers can't drive and our place is 1,000 ft up in the hills, and it is too far for the helpers to walk to the nearest market. That was going to make getting food supplies very difficult, especially if the lockdown was extended.

Some neighbours offered to get provisions for us if that happened, but then some of the major hospitals in Manila announced they were full and could take no more coronavirus patients. One hospital said in its announcement that so many doctors and nurses were now in quarantine, the healthcare system in the Philippines was on the verge of breaking down.Newspapers were reporting that doctors were dying (12 as of today’s date) and many nurses were in quarantine so hospitals were becoming short staffed. 

Hospitals started issuing notices saying that they could take no more coronavirus patients - effectively saying that any persons who now contracted the virus were on their own. There were no beds left, no ventilators for the seriously ill, and only 1,500 test kits left for 100 million people. The number of patients being confirmed as positive by hospitals was more than 20 times the official government numbers, so it was obvious that reporting of cases to the Department of Health was lagging well behind what was actually happening.

People couldn’t get tested because most of the available test kits had been used by politicians wanting to know whether they had contracted the virus. That caused an uproar on social media and many politicians apologised. But next day a prominent politician who had tested positive for the virus, and was supposed to be in quarantine, was seen wandering around one of the hospitals having driven his wife there to give birth to a baby. The hospital complained but nothing was done. That reminded me that as much as I enjoyed living in the Philippines, it was still a third world country.

It was quickly becoming apparent to me that if you were over 60 years of age and not a politician or wealthy businessperson, then you were now on your own with nowhere to go if you contract the virus. On Wednesday of last week I felt I could no longer take that risk, so I decided I had to return to Australia.

It was a difficult decision to make because it meant leaving our house and all our possessions in the hands of two young helpers, but I felt I had no choice. But I had to move fast because there was only one day left before Manila airport closed. Domestic flights had been grounded two weeks ago, but there were still a few international flights coming in to pick up stranded foreigners. I got onto the internet, which was becoming slower every day, to see what flights were available.

There were only four flights leaving the following day that hadn't been cancelled. Two to Doha and Dubai which were full, and two to Hong Kong and Tokyo which still had seats. I couldn't go to Hong Kong because they had already closed their borders to non-residents (including transit passengers) so Tokyo was my only option. The fares were ridiculous. $1,500 for a one way economy seat (8x normal fare) but that was my only option.

The flight was with ANA and I booked a seat but then had problems with verification of my credit card. I had to call ANZ in Australia around midnight but there were long wait times for that time of night. As I was waiting for an ANZ agent to answer, I was getting nervous that I might lose my ANA booking, but I eventually got it booked a little after 1 am. Then I had to find a flight from Tokyo to Brisbane. All flights on that route had been cancelled, so Sydney was my next option. There was one Japan Airlines flight with seats still available on the Friday night. I got a further shock when seeing the fares. $5,000 one way economy! (10x normal). But again no other options. Then I had to find a way to get to the airport. I knew one of my neighbours who owns three petrol stations in Metro Manila had a driver who had a quarantine pass to go into the city, so I messaged her to see if he could take me to the airport.

I grabbed a couple of hours of broken sleep but got woken up by the driver at 8 am who came to confirm he could take me. I packed a bag faster than I had ever done in my life and we headed to the airport. We had problems getting through two checkpoints. One because the army officer in charge didn't believe there were still flights leaving (some people had been printing fake air tickets to get through checkpoints) and one because they insisted we take a different route. We found ways around those checkpoints but it was a nervous journey to the airport nevertheless, constantly wondering whether we would be stopped by machine-gun toting army personnel and turned back. 

The journey didn’t take long after getting through the checkpoints because the roads were nearly empty except for some delivery trucks. It was an eerie sight for a city that normally carries two million vehicles a day on its arterial roads.

At the airport I discovered from talking to one of the immigration officers that the government had decided to allow the airport to stay open, beyond the originally proposed midnight closure, for international flights that were repatriating foreigners (there were still thousands of backpackers and holidaymakers stranded in different parts of the Philippines) and for Filipinos wanting to return home from overseas, and for a few domestic ‘sweeper’ flights from the provinces that would carry only stranded foreigners connecting with outbound international flights.

But I didn’t regret the rushed effort to leave because seats were getting scarcer and fares were getting higher. I’d been reading a story on my way to the airport about two British backpackers that had to pay $12,500 for seats on a flight to London a couple of days previously.

Manila airport was nearly empty, so social distancing was not a problem, and everyone kept 2 metres apart when boarding. The passenger load was light so everyone had one or two rows to themselves.

Upon arrival after dark in Haneda Airport, Tokyo, I had to find somewhere to sleep as my next flight was from Narita Airport the following evening. I hadn’t had time to book a hotel so I found a place online not far from the airport which I could reach by local bus. At that time of night I knew there wouldn’t be many passengers — and I was right. There were only four people on the bus, so no problem with social distancing there.

The next morning I took a local train to the airport bus terminal near Tokyo station. I knew that the trains wouldn’t be full late-morning, and I also knew from previous experience travelling by train in Japan, that locals will not sit next to foreigners unless there are no other seats available. When my train arrived I took one of three vacant seats in a corner, and nobody sat in the other seats.

I still had about eight hours before my flight, so at Tokyo station I put my bags in a locker and went for a walk to the Imperial Palace for some exercise and fresh air. Tokyo was not under any sort of lockdown (aside from some museums being closed) and people were going about their normal business. Many say that Japan is sitting on a coronavirus time bomb because it is not locking down — but that’s another story.

It was easy to practice social distancing on my walk because there were no tourists around and 80-90% of people were wearing face masks.  I had already noted that the airport buses were leaving every 10 minutes with only about 8-10 passengers, so that part of the journey wouldn’t be a problem as well.

Narita airport was like a ghost town and there were only 40 passengers on the flight down to Sydney on a 787 Dreamliner with 270 seats. As with the previous flight up from Manila, all of the flight attendants were wearing masks and rubber gloves, and kept their distance from passengers when serving meals. I noticed that the flight attendants were practising social distancing too.

After arrival at the international terminal in Sydney we were lined up 1.5 metres apart for health checks and a short lecture from a COVID-19 biosecurity officer. At immigration we were asked to step back 2 metres after handing over our passports. The processes were all efficient and cognisant of the need to stay 1.5 or 2 metres apart.

Then across to the domestic terminal for my transfer to Brisbane. It was like entering another world. It was the first time I had seen most people not wearing masks for two weeks. None of the Qantas staff were wearing masks or exercising social distancing. There were only 30 or so people on the flight to Brisbane, because Queensland had already closed its borders to all but returning residents and people working in essential services, and most of those were off international flights wearing masks. The pilots and flight attendants weren't. As passengers boarded, all keeping at least 1.5 metres apart, the flight attendants were chatting in the galley with no body separation whatsoever. 

I took my seat and then two other passengers came and sat in the seats beside me. It was clear that the flight was less than a quarter full so why were they seating passengers shoulder to shoulder? Before I could complain, the other passengers asked if they could be moved. The flight attendant said they couldn’t move until the door had been closed. But at that stage we were waiting only for one late passenger and there were dozens of empty rows of seats behind us.

As it turned out later, the other passengers were sitting in the wrong seats, but the flight attendant hadn’t bothered to check their boarding passes. She was too busy chatting to an off-duty pilot or flight steward in the business class seats in front of us. She was sitting on the arm of the seat, so there was very little body separation.

The last passenger arrived covered in perspiration and gasping for air, looking as if he had run a marathon. I assumed he had run from a connecting flight and was not suffering the early symptoms of COVID-19. Just my luck he was seated in the row behind me! As we started to taxi towards the runway he started coughing. I could tell he was trying to suppress his coughs, but he was not succeeding.

I was going to ask the flight attendants once we reached cruising altitude if I could move to one of the many vacant rows at the back of the plane, but by the time the seat belt sign was turned off he had managed to get his coughing under control. But when I looked in his direction, he didn’t look well at all.

The flight attendants served a biscuit and coffee without masks or gloves and engaged in conversation with several passengers with not even 1.5 feet in body separation, let alone 1.5 metres. During the course of the flight, both the pilot and co-pilot left the cockpit to use the toilet and stayed several minutes in the galley before returning to the cockpit, chatting to the flight attendants only inches apart.

Despite the passenger behind me not looking well, nobody asked him how he was feeling, and there were no announcements as there were on the international flights asking passengers who were experiencing flu-like symptoms or not feeling well to immediately notify the crew.

Upon arrival in Brisbane the police and biosecurity officers who were there to instruct us about the requirements for our 14 days quarantine were practising social distancing, and it was clear they had been trained to do that.

But it was also clear the Qantas crew had received no training on handling passengers who were transferring from international flights to the city where they would be undertaking their quarantine. On my two-day journey from Manila to Brisbane it was disappointing that the only place where I felt at risk of being infected by the coronavirus was the domestic Qantas flight on the last leg.

Qantas was the weak link in the chain.

Qantas flight attendants are in close contact with hundreds of travellers every day, any one of which could be infected with the coronavirus and not showing symptoms. That’s how the virus is spreading around the world. Qantas should be doing better.