The airport scene. « Syazwina Rants

The airport scene.

10Jan09

Interesting, the things you see in an airport.

Unless you’re a romantic, believing in the magic of the airport scenes in Love Actually, then the reality is different. Nerves are frazzled, people are tired, usually from a restless night of packing and unpacking and keeping an eye and ear on the alarm. Families are no more affectionate than usual. Is it just me, or are mothers becoming increasingly more adept at keeping their eyes dry and appropriately emotionless?

You see dynamics. The middle-aged couple with three young daughters and a son and American accents strained in high voices. The father debates the missing (formerly unwanted) bagel, while the mother warns the children not to touch their elbows on the table (if they wished to survive the microbiology thriving on it). The grandparents try to get in touch with the outside world, before their neuroses (and progeny) eventually kill them.

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.

But children – the airport, no matter how lousy the services, how outdated the infrastructure, how long it takes to do anything or get anywhere – to them, this place is… magical. Forgive the cliché. It’s the forbidden land, where you only get in if you’re lucky and swear up and down that you’re not going to be trouble, no sir, not at all. Only a fool would buy it. What sort of heartless being could resist the appeal of winding rope barriers that trap grown ups, and the floors that make your shoes squeak when you run, and huge McDonald’s and – gasp! — those wheelie thingies that are like little cars?

Grown ups are such bores.

But perhaps one should be kinder to them. They do try, you know. It’s not proper for children to see them weep. And when you’re bored they give you little boxes of finger foods and promise you, that really, the moment everything is over, you will see the lolly store. And if you’re really really good, you might get a candy cane. And it’s not even Christmas. Plus, if you run around long enough and fast enough, you can get a ride on a trolley. In the little bucket seat. Now how about that?

Still. If you’re not a child and you’re travelling alone, then it’s pretty much hell on tiles. With no internet, and pretty lousy phone reception.