Been on the road a bit lately and it strikes me how much I really enjoy the airport. Yeah, I know this may be a sign of early dementia but the escapism associated with a trip is better than anything Walt Disney ever cooked up. We all have jobs, family, spouses, etc. but let's face it getting the hell away from it/them/her/him is a little indulgence which is hard to beat. Fine, don't believe me, but you're deluding yourself or have a prescription for some medication that I need.I've come to the conclusion that I love a good airport terminal. You really have it all in front of you: human drama...family reunions, lovers saying goodbye, kids being kids, stressed out families, business travelers making deals or acting important, young adults on spring break, retirees finally making that trip to Europe that they've always dreamed of.
As an observer, it never grows tiresome. Of course being your loyal glutton, this voyeuristic nonsense can only be appreciated from the perch of a bar stool or restaurant serving fine food and drink. This unfortunately is not as predictable as the unavoidable human condition present at every airport. I could probably dedicate many pages to which terminals and airports are good and bad so consider this the first installment. I just got back from a three city European trip so allow me to rate the facilities involved.
Departure Seattle: S-Gates. All restaurants and one "under construction" bar close at 6:30 p.m. approximately 1.5 hours before the flight time of the last departure in the terminal. The faux Mexican food was delicious with my $7 Heineken. Such hospitality, and welcoming spirit! "Welcome to Seattle, we don't want your money...now get out". I was actually glad to board the plane to escape the grim environs of Seatac.
Departure Kastrup,Copenhagen: main terminal. "Hi, yes we're Scandinavian and numerous, beautiful blond women live here, are you envious?" Well, yes to be honest but I get over it because you have a Caviar House & Prunier Seafood Bar in the terminal. Bavik salmon sampler with a Tuborg? Don't mind if I do. Also in your Dwell-magazine space I can wander about and buy electronics and a Samsonite Black Label bag for the high end wines and Daim candy bars I purchased for no apparent reason. Then I can relax in the SAS lounge, grab a shower, have nice food and a Carlsberg on tap.
Departure Amsterdam: Schipol. "We've tried to make it better so now you can buy wooden shoes and tulip bulbs in only 75% of the shops. What else do you want from us? Oh yes, how about a bowling ball sized hunk of our Gouda cheese? Really you don't like Gouda?...then have a crouquette and a Heineken because we're hiding all the Grolsch for ourselves."
Departure Heathrow: Terminal 5. I know BA is really proud of this expensive debacle but my first experience here was grim. My bag was overweight, go repack it, go to the next agent. Seriously, security clearance took over an hour and no signage was present to even help. Many of the employees even seemed confused as to where to direct me. And I'm a veteran traveler with patience! What about the average tourist? Crikey! The terminal, once I got in there was pretty nice. Great shopping with all the big players represented. Thanks Paul Smith for the great shop which extricated another hundred pounds from my wallet.
Departure Geneva: The more things change, the more they stay the same in Switzerland. This former Luftwaffe stopover hasn't changed since the 1970's. OK, that's not a nice thing to say about my former home airport but seriously. How about a wardrobe change to this facility? "Come on in we're neutral and have lots of watches for sale...no they're cheaper here. Don't look at your iPhone and check U.S. prices. Don't you believe us? OK, fine just go to one of our ski villages and then get out. And yes we speak English, but we're pretending we don't because it's our national sport. Now leave."
So the winner of the glutton airport sweepstakes...Kastrup, Copenhagen.
