Thursday, December 14, 2006

The UK travel journals - part I

Having been to Heathrow twice before, I certainly did not rate it among the best airports I had been to, but until I arrived there once again I wasn't quite sure why that was. Now I remember.

Upon arriving in there, I feel like I'm going to prison. Its tight, cornered walkways are crowded, and the low ceiling makes it hard for the body odor coming from the passengers to escape. And judging from what I smelled, the deodorant in Ghana and India is not of the highest quality - flights from Accra and Mumbai picked up their luggage in the same belt I did.

Architecturally, one can't even say that Heathrow has its moments. There is no grandeur, no spacious lounges, nothing to alleviate the fact that you have just been double-digit hours in a long-haul flight. Colors are dull, with the shades of cement gray, rubber black and unpolished metal only being disturbed by the yellow signs that indicate Flight Connections - in agressive serif font, so uncommon in large banners of that type.

Is it so unpleasant for British people to head back to their country, and be reminded of their dreadful weather, food, and women (not all of them though...), that they had to build an unwelcoming airport too?

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