Airports

Airports are always odd places. No-one is ever themselves in an airport. The majority of people are families or retired couples on holiday; they are either bubbly and excited or tired and frayed, depending on which end of the holiday they are at. Some sit around drinking coffee until you can see the tension in them. Others take to stronger drink, and either talk randomly and loudly to the people near them or fall asleep. Even the people who work there look like they put on a full body mask early in the morning and then take it off again at the end of the day to go home. Personally, I like to get there early, sit and read until the last possible moment to board, then be first off the airplane, through the airport and out as fast as possible, to be the first to the taxi queue. This requires some careful planning to make sure your hand luggage is as portable as possible.

But Glasgow airport is easily the oddest I have seen yet. The building is, on the whole, long and thin, with gate lounges scattered along it on both levels. They have taken some care to make sure that people departing take a different route between the gate and the front door to those arriving. The result of this is that, to get from the gate to the door, you have to wind your way along, up and down, around, under and over and it is very easy to get lost.

The contrast between the two routes is quite amazing. When departing, you walk along shiny, tiled walkways, where everything is glass and stainless steel. You walk through various glitzy shops and cafes. The staff are all smartly dressed. When arriving, you walk on aged carpet. The fittings are bare, functional, even slightly shabby. This impression was not improved by the concrete cutter operating in a bit of the building that was screened off. The staff wear old-looking yellow reflective security vests.

The security operation here is immense. It was, of course, the scene of a slightly bizarre terrorist attack which somehow only managed to injure the terrorists when someone drove a car through the front window and set fire to it a couple of years ago. Somehow the risk of people driving through the windows has led to an enormous upgrade in body scanners which will, erm, I dunno, scare the cars off. Some sort of fire alarm went off just as I arrived, which prevented people from leaving the baggage reclaim room; this made for a very crowded and uncomfortable twenty minutes.

I was in Glasgow for the day for work. It meant an early start and an even later finish. Bristol to Glasgow for a day trip is a bit like Adelaide to Melbourne; doable, but long. I didn't look out the car window almost the whole way from airport to office and back, so I can't tell you much about it.