The Airport Test

What’s the best and worst airport you’ve been to?

Oh, that’s easy.

The best? Singapore Changi.

An airport where someone apparently sat down and thought:

“People are going to be tired, confused and carrying too much luggage. How can we make this pleasant?”

Gardens. Comfortable spaces. Good food. Clear signs.

Even the airport seems to understand that travellers are human beings rather than pieces of luggage that occasionally require passports.

And then there’s the other end of the scale.

Heathrow.

Now, I’m sure perfectly lovely people work there.

But somewhere between arriving and finding where I was supposed to go next, I began to suspect that Heathrow wasn’t actually an airport.

It was an escape room.

Except there was no prize at the end.

Just another security queue.

And that’s really what separates a good airport from a bad one for me.

It isn’t the architecture.

It isn’t how many shops there are.

It’s how you feel while you’re there.

A good airport says:

“Don’t worry. We’ve got you. Follow the signs.”

A bad airport says:

“You should probably have paid more attention to that tiny sign 400 yards ago.”

And perhaps that’s true of travel in general.

We remember the places where someone made things easier for us.

The helpful member of staff.

The clear directions.

The person who noticed you were completely lost and pointed you in the right direction.

Because when you’re tired, jet-lagged and dragging a suitcase behind you, a little kindness goes a very long way.

So yes.

Changi gets my vote.

And Heathrow gets a sympathetic smile and a stern recommendation to perhaps install a few more arrows.

Preferably large ones.

Preferably pointing in the direction I’m actually going.

Stay Fabulous,
Luce 💋