It’s rare to find anyone who has anything very positive to say about airports. While much is printed, blogged and tweeted about the hassle involved in traversing this no-man’s-land between here and there (wherever “here” and “there” happen to be), I can’t recall reading or hearing about anyone who’s been particularly happy about spending time in an airport.
Until now. I love airports.
I’m not what you’d call a frequent flyer – I’ve flown perhaps two dozen times in my life. And none of that internationally. And I can’t say that I’ve a specific airport that stands out as a favourite. But I haven’t yet met an airport I didn’t like either.
From Denver (the largest airport I’ve ever been in) to Elliot Lake, Ontario (I recall it was about the size of my living room), there’s something about the coming and going that I find at once soothing and exhilarating. Leaving home, stepping into the airport is the point at which I begin to truly feel “away.” Coming back from a trip, it’s once again the arrival at the airport that turns my attention away from the vacation just passed and toward home. For me, the stress of traveling- going or coming- stops when I get to the airport, not the other way around.
The airport is the world in miniature; I’ve never understood those who glue themselves to a movie or book for two solid hours before their flight leaves. Oh sure, I read; I also people watch, shop, eat, wander, eat some more. I particularly like browsing the news-stands; were it not for the aforementioned Denver airport, I likely never would have discovered Mental Floss magazine, for instance. My gut reaction to the plot of The Terminal was “how cool would it be to live in an airport?” It’s right up there with the concept of living in a shopping mall (thank you Richard Peck)
I’m sure part of it derives from when I was little; my grandpa would often take me out to the local airport to watch the planes take off and land. This was back in the day when anyone could get through the gate and go right up to the window. We’d watch a few planes, then adjourn to a nearby truck stop for a snack. I even loved watching the baggage pickup – staring at that hole in the wall, trying to guess when it would spit out the first suitcase, and who it would belong to.
I’m the first to volunteer when anyone I know needs a ride to the airport. And I’ll even pay for parking and go in to wait when I’m picking someone up. It’s not as much fun anymore, with all the good stuff on the other side of security, but I’ll take what I can get.
What’s your favourite airport experience?