Musing in Terminal 2

We left plenty of time and so when we got through bag drop, security and immigration in 30 minutes, we had 3 hours to wait! This is only the start.

The ebb and flow of humanity running through 2 out Heathrow’s 5 terminals, which is 1 out of london’s 6 airports, is frightening. I mean, where are all these people going?

People-watching at an airport is always fun, at Heathrow is triple the fun. Most people are not speaking a language i don’t understand, wearing clothes that are not Western,. Business women wearing killer heals. Who travels in such uncomfortable footwear?

Airports are like tine-warps. It could be any time of day or night and it seems to function the same. People could look tireder late but essentially it’s like A&E but fewer people in white coats! And fewer people with bandages come think of it. What is the same is that same resigned look of “I’d rather be elsewhere but can’t be!

Then there’s the flight staff who are also waiting. They paid for it though.  The cleaner, almost to a man and woman are of Indian, Pakistani, or Bangladeshi origin. Most people treat them as invisible. When I thanked one woman she jumped as if I was going to shout at her. They may have been paid to be there but not enough to like it.

Franky, being at airport can be depressing. Most people were not going holiday or anywhere new or exciting. They just wanted the waiting to end. This is the start of 24 hour trip, so here’s to waiting and watching.