Airport Terminals. Love them or hate them. Some people prefer wading through them in drug induced zombie like stupors, others explore them with a child like curiosity, as if exploring the streets of a new town on a weekend getaway. Here, where time is an alien concept, people, dictated by their body clocks, look for their morning shot of caffeine, supper, lunch, or those elusive lounging chairs which are seemingly always occupied, especially when the seeker is hoping for deep slumber; the alcohol is plentiful, the beer taps flowing, because it is beer-o-clock somewhere in the world, and people look to quench their thirst, or hope to numb themselves before embarking on their journeys, packed like sardines in the cramped airline seats, oblivious to the exuberant prices of these beverages, conveniently blurred in the conundrum of foreign currencies, exchange rates, language barriers and sign language. Here, all are equal, people irrespective of religion, pedigree, status or demographics congregate, and passthrough through the terminals, as if this were a place of pilgrimage, for here is a place where agnostic of whether you hold an economy or a business class ticket, you will recline on the floor in a packed small chaotic terminal if there are no seats left, a common scene in terminals in those remote islands where people flock for the summer. The patrons explore the duty frees, hoarding on tax free merchandise, hoping to fit them in their modest check-in baggage already bursting at the seams, spraying premium perfumes and cologne samples on their travel ridden bodies, away from the prying eyes of the ever so eager salesmen. People prefer to be in various forms of undress, and some in their best attire, clothes varying in comfort from the uber comfortable to the cringingly tight, some in their cut sleeves, hats and sunglasses unwilling to let go of their holiday on their way back home, and some impatiently waiting for the beach on their way to one. Across the heavy glass, outside on the tarmac, the steady flow of aircraft - proudly brandishing airline liveries and logos on their tails, some familiar, other outlandish- provide a great source of entertainment, and inside the air controlled environs of the terminal, where summer is eternal, people watching is the norm, because everyone is exotic and their place of origin a mystery in the eyes of the other. Oh, how I miss airports!
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