Airport Inertia

Airports are not indicative of the nature of a place and it's probably a good thing, given that I usually arrive in them woozy from lack of, or emerging from sleep, sedatives or a couple of glasses of champagne. In fact, the more I land at, the more they seem to blur into one another. This is one part of globalisation I don't like - I understand that logistics may dictate a certain amount in the design of an airport but I really think more flavour can be added to the interior design at least.

Sometimes we're treated to the stunning visual map of a city at night whilst the plane descends into land - I will never forget my arrival into Dubai in 2004 - it felt like landing on the Vegas strip. I had never seen so much neon or so many skyscrapers. Nowadays the plane always seems to come in across the desert so we don't receive the same visual impact. The airport itself is nondescript. White, more white and acres of space. Passport control is generally a nightmare - regardless of the fact that there's about 60 desks in both Terminal's 1 & 3, they are either partly unmanned or just so busy. One of my favourite life-aids comes into use here - E-gate card, which I am lucky enough to own as I have residency in the

U.A.E.

Malaga airport at least tries to brighten the mood amongst arrivals - on the way to passport control you pass a number of photographs displaying the wonders that can be reached from the airport - the Andalucian countryside in all it's glory - Cordoba, Seville, Granada and of course Malaga itself (any photos of the Rock of Gibraltar are conspicuously absent!). It's many treasures both architectural and objets d'art are covered in the exhibition. Everytime I enter I smile, because I know I'm already in Spain.

Cordoba





This year, Dublin airport - or the airport I should say closest to home (but I don't even know what home is anymore) - put on an exhibition of it's own - of Ireland's faces. Some are famous and some aren't. I appreciate what they are trying to do and given that we were an almost completely indigenous island until very recently there are certain celtic traits which are clearly visible and perhaps do suggest to one that you've landed in Ireland - but it doesn't inspire any passion in me for being home. The good thing is that if you land in Dublin on a clear day - you have already been treated to some striking scenery flying in from the Irish sea across Howth head, along Portmarnock and can even spy Croke Park Stadium in the distance.

Artwork trumps ad-work every time and for those stuck in endless terminals something to enlighten oneself on a travellator is a nice distraction - and perhaps for some an education.

I'm sure many of you have visited Heathrow, London and JFK, New York so I don't need to mention how soulless they are. I'm not a Heathrow hater though - I've been through it so many times now that I find it easy to manage and I certainly think it has improved in recent years. Security is a nightmare though, which has become a given in any international city (funnily enough I flew from Sharjah International Airport in U.A.E other day - and I didn't even have to remove my laptop or liquids from my case - perhaps not funny at all? Are Budget airlines not a threat?).

What shocks me is that in the increasingly fashion-obsessed world we're living in is that designers haven't gotten their pricey paws on this huge market? I can certainly see a Dior-Dubai Terminal or Burberry-Beirut. What bigger boost to an ego than a Terminal named after your brand? Even the First class lounges are basic, wouldn't they benefit from a Cavalli-esque makeover? Perhaps the wheels are already in motion, it really wouldn't surprise me.

What is less surprising is that aesthetics are being considered in the new airport designs. Renowned architect, Zaha Hadid is onboard to modernise and visualise a new Heathrow Airport after her deisgns for Zagreb airport in Croatia proved winning.
http://www.wired.com/design/2013/02/airport-architecture/
For me - there's still a lack of substance to these new-gen designs - as they don't reflect the surrounding countryside or culture of each place whatsoever. The design for the new Incheon airport in South Korea looks more like an elaborate flyover rather than saying anything about this wonderfully cultural country.

However I am no architect or engineer and perhaps looking for aesthetics in these functional places is superfluous. All I know is that I ensure my visa is complete before entering any of these airports (this includes filling out those blasted pre-landing cards before arrival), that my passport is handy (not buried in hand luggage), that I have shoes I can slip off, comfortable clothing, a bottle of water and a good book on my Kindle for reading on the queue for passport control. But note to those creatures of vision - we spend more time inside these buildings than outside so some attention to form would be appreciated by those who are terminally in terminals.

Cambodia - Phnom Penh

My oldest friend April planned to travel for a few months at the end of 2012. I was envious and really wanted to join her but could only really take a couple of weeks off so we planned to meet in Cambodia.  I can't go into a day by day blog like other trips but I did take some notes....

Day 1 - First impressions of Phnom Penh was that it was so different to Bangkok - I finally felt I was in "real" Asia. The airport was tiny and the staff/police there were unsmiling. Outside was a different story. My tuk-tuk driver Pauli awaited me and negotiated the crazy streets with ease. I have never, ever seen so many motorcycles. People everywhere smiled, waved and stared (I am incredibly white, even moreso than the average Irish person and this is a source of great interest for non-Caucasians). I noticed that although everyone is fighting for space in traffic there's almost a system. They squeeze in but don't push you out of the way!

The fumes!

I was excited to be on my own to explore for the day but looking forward to April's arrival. Phnom Penh is such a mixture of the modern and the old. It is a city that still bears the hallmarks of the civil war in the '70's. Could it be called a war? It was more like wanton slaughter by a dictator, people didn't really fight back!

Bird of Peace - A bird sculpted out of recovered machine gun parts - a grim reminder of war.

The city also has a lot of greenery, small shop shacks line the streets, walking was a pleasure although people wondered why I hadn't hired a tuk-tuk or motorcycle.

There are beautifully ornate statues everywhere and Buddhist objects. Strange smells and sights assaulted me everywhere on my walk. I was warned about rats down by the river but didn't see any.

April and I stayed in Me Mates place - http://www.mematesplace.com
It had been recommended by friends and fellow travellers. It ended up being more expensive than everywhere else we stayed but it was clean and we had our own bathroom. Also, having a bar downstairs with internet was nice, and the owners have dogs (I LOVE dogs!). I didn't find any of the others guests particularly friendly before April arrived but the locals on the street were really nice and were showing me their English copybooks and trying to learn off me which was charming. I shared some of my cigarettes with them and whiled away the time until April arrived.

I felt excited about the rest of the trip and it was brilliant to have my best friend by my side again in a brand new country!

Stansted to Split (How NOT to travel.....)

I had planned well. I had managed to get a week's worth of clothing and shoes (YES, SHOES) into carry-on luggage. Under 12kg. That, I'm sure ladies will agree, is probably an unsurpassed feat. But my shining moment was about to be clouded over...how? By me, of course.

The alarm went off at 4am. I had gotten back to the hotel at 1.15am. We all do it, don't we? We tell ourselves - "It'll be fine, I'm going on holidays, I'll sleep on the plane,. Then, feeling god-awful, we drag ourselves into the shower and get ready. It was bloody freezing that morning, I was so glad to be leaving the U.K, although the forecast for Split wasn't great. Rain. Typical. I leave Ireland, experiencing a heatwave for the first time since 1995, to go on a cruise in Croatia - and RAIN is predicted. Of course I haven't a single thing packed for inclement weather. Why would I? That 11.5kgs didn't allow for it!

I got to Stansted and Katherine was already at the gate. I hadn't even met Katherine yet and she must've already thought I was a bit scatty, arriving about an hour before my flight. Whilst passing through security I was stopped, I had "too many items" in my plastic liquid bag. So it had to be repacked. A very kindly American girl offered to take the extras through for me but the snotty security said no. So I relinquished shower cream, hand sanitiser and toothpaste, hoping Sarah (my room mate to be) would have these. I then scurried to Boots, to pick up other items I needed, where the queues were literally winding down the aisles out onto the public area. Only at the cashier did I realise that I was sans boarding pass and I heard my name "Would Caitriona McBride please return to the security area?". Now what would Katherine think of me? She was texting saying that the flight was boarding and I was wondering if there was food near the gate? I managed to reach there for final call, clutching a brie and bacon wrap and feeling rather pleased with myself. Katherine looked rather worried and we barely had time for introductions before we had to take our separate seats (we didn't find out in time about each other in order to snag seats together - and changes on Easyjet aren't cheap!). Somewhere between Security and Boarding I had managed to take a Xanax so it was lights out for me before we even ascended.

At Split airport I felt much more refreshed and found Katherine, apologising for my earlier tardiness and general scattiness. I was proud to show off my carry-on but rather jealous of her suitcase, probably packed with goodies I couldn't bring on with me. We wandered around in the sunshine (for now!) looking for a bus and eventually were directed towards one which we were assured would get us to the port. We were straight on the texts, alerting Louise and Sarah that we'd arrived and would be seeing them soon. We settled in on the bus and pondered on the week to come, psyching ourselves up for the late nights and crazy drinking and praying our boat would be nice. We needn't have worried. Below is what awaited us at Split port....