I’ll cut straight to the chase:
I love airports.
I’m not sure what it is about them. The mall-like atmosphere. The crowds of people completely absorbed in what they’re doing, where they’re going. The moving sidewalks. The ability to go to the bar and not have to worry about driving afterward. The adrenaline knowing you’ll soon be flying. Any or all of these could be why. I just know I love them.
I discovered this when I was watching a movie some time ago. Obviously an airport played into it somehow. My best guess at the moment is Dogma. Regardless, watching the airport scene in whatever movie it happened to be made me nostalgic for the last trip I took in a plane.
I’ve flown a total of three times (round-trip) in my life. The first was to Florida before I was 5. I don’t remember any of it. The second was in fifth or sixth grade when I went with a classmate to Washington, D.C. I don’t remember the plane ride nor do I remember much of the trip aside from snippets and what we wrote in the trip journal. Finally, in September of 2007, my father, uncle and I flew to Pittsburgh to visit my grandmother on her birthday.
This one I remember.
To qualify, the Saginaw (MBS International) airport is kind of lame. It is a small airport after all. With this being the only one in recent memory (with wedding receptions being held there and participating in dropping people off/picking them up) I didn’t have really any strong opinion of airports other than all that is ever said badly about them in bad sitcoms. However, once we hit DTW and spent a few hours in layover, I loved it. The plethora of activities to keep you occupied and the bustle of activity were initially overwhelming, but fun nonetheless.
I understand if one were on business and had other things occupying their mind, there might be less to enjoy. Likewise for someone with an excessive fear of flying. I, on the other hand, saw the positive. I was on a mini-vacation. My father and uncle were engrossed in philosophical conversations. I took to wandering. Camera and cash in hand, there was plenty to do.
I argued with a customer (not heatedly, but in a friendly manner) about this topic. He dislikes airports. They are strictly utilitarian. They accomplish a purpose. And he’s a photographer. So it’s not the artist in me; maybe it’s just me and my naivety. The rush of flying is still relatively new to me. There you are, in the sky, surrounded by the clouds. Opine it’s annoyances however you will, but the air travel experience is still romantic to me.