Let’s face it, airports are a massive pain. You’re eagerly awaiting your days in the sun (or snow), your bags are all packed, you’ve calculated the perfect Facebook status to make all your friends as jealous as possible – and now you’ve got the mandatory two-hour wait in a Brutalist monolith that’s been designed to sluice every ounce of enthusiasm from your pores.
You might have thought of yourself as a rugged explorer or debonair globe-trotter this morning, but in the eyes of the airport you’re a piece of meat waiting to be grudgingly processed, a potential security threat, a carrier of inappropriate baggage and probably a fire hazard too.
There are a few ways you can make the process a bit easier – using Skypark’s airport parking service will let you drive your own car to the airport and find it again when you return, at least – but overall, everyone hates the airport. Here’s why:
Did you pack this bag yourself? Terrorists are a sneaky lot, and some will even stoop to lying about whether they’ve got knives, fireworks and enriched uranium tucked away in their holdalls.
You’ve diligently arrived two hours early as requested by your booking confirmation. Congratulations! Reward yourself by wading through the latest Tom Clancy novel while the screaming toddler in the next seat throws up on you at twenty-minute intervals.
Take off your shoes. Keys out your pocket. Get that bracelet off. Throw that £2.50 bottle of Evian in the bin, it just became combustible. Is that a metal buckle on your belt? Off it comes. And then it beeps anyway and you’re treated to a bored fondle by the guard.
“I’ve actually been to Cambodia, and it’s a nightmare, actually. It’s all tourists and you can’t get a decent Frappé anywhere. I actually feel sorry for the people that live there.”
The Hunt for the Gate
You’re so close. They’ve announced your flight is boarding just in time for you to discover that Gate 274Fb is, surprisingly, not right next to Gate 274Fa, but in a different terminal building. Enjoy your run!