[I typed this onto my phone in the airport after a hideously early start last week. Now I’m back and with internet, I thought I’d share it with you all. I hope you enjoy my early morning stream of consciousness…!]
As I sit here in Luton Airport on a cold Thursday morning at 5am, I realise there’s a certain room for improvement in my surroundings. It’s drafty, oddly laid out and there’s nowhere to sit. There are actually people sleeping on the belts for luggage next to the check in desks.
[I was going to put in a picture of actual Luton Airport, but thought this was much less rage-inducing]
Whilst my mind is picturing this type of poolside arrangement, I’m brought harshly back to reality by yet another automated announcement about unattended bags, liquids, blah blah. I sigh, and shuffle forwards in the queue.
Now, this is no Changi; my expectations are not high. And Luton is by no means the worst airport I’ve ever had the misfortune of visiting. But this brings me to thinking about my Dream Airport. What would it look like? Well…
~ My dream airport would have varied and reasonably priced gluten free food available, for breakfast, lunch or dinner.
~ My dream airport would have lots of electrical outlets so you can charge any devices you need.
~ My dream airport would be easy to get to, not needing any complicated drop off scramble, £10 ‘short stay’ car park ticket or £20 express train ticket.
~ My dream airport would have infinite security lines, so you could breeze straight through.
~ My dream airport wouldn’t worry too much about those pesky liquid restrictions, especially for those flying hand luggage only.
~ My dream airport would have plenty of seating so people wouldn’t have to sit in places which are inconvenient, uncomfortable, or downright hazardous. Or all three.
~ My dream airport would hand out free ice cream. Mint choc chip for me, please (inacupwithnowaferthankyouandplease).
~ My dream airport would be staffed by friendly and accommodating personnel, dressed in a variety of zoo animal suits. Maybe bears at check in, dolphins at security, elephants at passport control?
~ My dream airport would treat you like a decent human being, not a probable criminal.
~ My dream airport would have minimal announcements, so as not to disturb those reading gripping books.
~ My dream airport would smell nice.
~ My dream airport wouldn’t make you say goodbye to loved ones.
~ My dream airport would adjust its internal climate to favour the clothes you’re wearing.
~ My dream airport has only sky bridges, no buses or scuttles across windy expanses of tarmac.
~ My dream airport would have a book amnesty shelf, where people can leave unwanted holiday reads for others to pick up.
~ My dream airport would have free, fast wifi which doesn’t require epic amounts of registration including but not limited to the signing over of your firstborn.
~ My dream airport would let you take your carefully packed plane breakfast through security, even if it contains yoghurt.
~ My dream airport would space all its flights out evenly throughout the day, to avoid bottlenecks at peak (or off peak, as the case may be) times.
~ My dream airport would have one area for those who wish to drink beer before 9am, and those who don’t.
~ My dream airport would have free mani-pedi’s on offer while you wait for your gate to be called.
And really, I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you?!
What would be in your dream airport?