Arriving in Heathrow Airport for the first time was like meeting an old Aunt who had been a famous movie star in another age. Having her so much about her I expected her to be sassy, bold and polished but she was the airport equivalent of an old lady with saggy pantyhose and her petticoat hanging low. Heathrow was vaguely familiar in a familial kind of way, but in such bad repair that it was depressing. Old travelators that had ceased to function were left lying about with their inner mechanisms exposed and piles of old chairs could be found napping in strange corners. Bits of machinery that I expected to be hidden behind shiny panels were just kind of hanging around. I spotted gaffa tape holding bits together. Very disconcerting. Being a practical person I understand that gaffa tape does have an important role to play in the mechanics of daily life but I do not want to see it in an airport.* Especially moments before I lock myself up in a metal canister which is then “driven” into the sky.

* If the Singaporeans ever had to use gaffa tape to stick bits of a machine together then it would be colour co-ordinated tape, cut (not ripped off the roll with their teeth) on a neat diagonal. They would place a nice shiny panel in front of the offending gaffa tape and perhaps post a guard in front of the bit of recalcitrant machinery. Just in case. I know some may think that approach is ridiculous (HI Timshel!) but that’s the level of control I expect from an airport.

Reuben peering out of the plane window on arrival at Edinburgh Airport

This entry was posted on Friday, February 10th, 2006 at 10:21 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.