Other than the fact they are the place I go to take me home, I also like them
because I love airplanes.
I get there a couple of hours early and I glue my nose (figuratively speaking) to the big windows at my gate and watch them take off and land.
Also, I like people watching, and this affords me a couple of hours to guess which of the people I am observing is a spy, someone making a new start in life, or a soldier/sailor/marine/airman/coast-guardist wondering what’s in store for them and already missing their families.
It is also why I think of all the folks who ride a Greyhound and where they are going and what they’re leaving behind.
All travellers are the “Salt of the Earth”, as far as I’m concerned.
I never fly (or wait to fly) without listening to this on my MP3…
I kinda like airports, too. They mean I’m going someplace, or picking up someone I probably don’t see as often as I’d like. There’s something grand and challenging about the architecture, too; how to bring all those people and things together and get them all where they’re supposed to be.
I’m flying cross-country in a couple weeks. The ticket agent apologized that I’ll have to change planes twice. Landing, walking around, stretching my legs, taking off again is a lot more interesting than just being wedged into one seat for 5 hours.
I loved them before 9-11. I live in Chicago off the Blue Line which is a subway running to O’Hare. I don’t have air conditioning and on really hot days I’d grab a book and head on up to O’Hare and sit all day and read and watch the people come and go and the planes take off.
But now that’s all gone and worse with cell phones all you hear are people yelling and griping and you can’t even read or get a moment’s peace anymore <sigh>
It’s better than sitting there three extra hours for your nonstop flight to L.A., because the airline (rhymes with You Blighted) discovered a mechanical problem with the airplane you were about to board. About two hours into this wait, when it happened to me, they rolled up another plane and nearly let us board that, until somebody found out the second plane’s certificate of airworthiness had been revoked…
But ordinarily I do like airports, for most of the reasons Quasi mentioned. I’m sort of a “plane nut” as well, and, especially in Midwestern airports there seems to be a greater variety of short-, medium-, and long-haul aircraft to look at. For one thing, back when I was traveling more, there seemed to be a lot more turboprops, which I have only seen once or twice in California. Since at least the time when I was old enough to want to fly someplace–about six years old in my case–it’s been almost entirely jets of one kind or another in this state.
I like airports, but I suspect that part of the reason I don’t dislike them is because I don’t travel via plane that much. So I haven’t had a good chance to dislike them.
But I do like the people watching, the plane watching, the hanging out and reading, the “mall food.” All of it is neat to me, and a worthwhile part of any vacation.
I think I would rather get a tooth extracted than go to an airport. Long lines at security, long lines at customs, walks through long corridors, just a horror show.
Now back in the day, before 9/11, before they started hijacking planes to Cuba, before any airport inspection, yes they were fun. You walked up to the counter, checked your bags, went to the gate and got on a plane. No ID, no security, you could carry your penknife, hassle-free. Also, the corridors were much shorter. Then airports were fun. Now I will go to lengths to avoid plane travel.
I love the people-watching too. I especially like to guess nationalities, and I sometimes get curious enough to hover nearby trying to catch the language. I’m quite good, too.
I also like the way travelling is doing something and doing nothing at once.
I love airports, and transportation terminals in general. They feel to me like they are somehow out-of-time and out-of-place, a sort of limbo in reality. I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but it relaxes me and gives me peace to be somewhere but not really be anywhere at all. I know I must sound a little bit nuts, but that’s the way it feels to me. When I was in college, when I just wanted to get away from it all, one way to that was to take the El or a drive to O’Hare,and walk through the terminals, watch people, hop on the monorail between terminals, etc.
I like airports for the same reason I like driving on long car trips. When I’m in an airport or behind the wheel, I’m officially DOING something, which means that the pressure I usually feel to tackle the next task on my seemingly endless list goes away. I can sit and wait for my plane without feeling guilty that I’m wasting time by just sitting around doing nothing. As a result, I tend to arrive at the airport hours before my flight leaves just so I can enjoy being bored.
I also get all schmoozy and romantic in an airport. I imagine myself meeting a woman there and getting snowed in for Christmas. Separating for a while while we buy each other Christmas gifts and sharing them under the tree in the departure lounge. Getting smashed and making love in a hidey hole somewhere. Giggling like maniacs watching children play or otherwise amusing ourselves and then finally saying goodbye and agreeing to meet there again the next year for the holidays.
