Dear Tim, I feel incredibly foolish in saying this but… I won’t be meeting you at the airport. That’s because I won’t be arriving on a plane. Because I suddenly can’t climb onto one.
I wandered this way and that. People were lying in corners, sprawled on the floor. Some looked almost peaceful – others with arms flung over their eyes, or huddled foetally, any exposed faces scrunched into grimaces or rictuses of discomfort. Distant noise of machinery, but here…silence. I padded along quietly, carrying my wheeled suitcase, careful not to make my boots … Read More
If you were traversing Terminal 5 at London’s Heathrow last August, you may have seen a writerly-looking chap sat tapping on a computer, his words being displayed on a large plasma screen over his head. This was the temporary Writer In Residence, Alain de Botton, and he was writing a book about what airports really are.