
#555
Title:
A Week at the Airport: A Heathrow DiaryAuthor: Alain de Botton
Photographer: Richard Baker
Publisher: Vintage
Year: 2010
112 pages
I
agree with readers who found this to be lighter than they had hoped,
and also with those who found it sufficiently absorbing. De Botton
provides a nicely phrased but ultimately superficial pensée on his week
spent in or adjacent to Heathrow. The idea of this project is a good
one, though not de Botton's--he was a recipient of the opportunity.
There's nothing to dislike about the narrative, and the photos provide a
additional medium that is wonderfully atmospheric.
My dirty
secret is that I love airports. I regularly kill up to 12 hours at
international airports. If I were to be a writer in residence at an
airport (and let's be frank: Many of us have spent many days trapped in a
single airport), I'd have explored aspects unexamined by de Botton,
such as sleeping in the airport (not at the adjacent hotel)--at a gate,
in the women's room, behind an unused counter, in a car in the parking
garage--, riding a baggage cart on the tarmac, eating foods I never
eat, watching rest room traffic, or determining the feasibility of
visiting the other terminals, for example. I'd want to evaluate the art,
see what long-term menu variety can be constructed at the shops and
restaurants, try on clothes, or see how good a haircut and massage I
could get. The man is in Heathrow, where I'd assuredly sample as much
Scotch as God and nature permitted, perhaps purchased by strategically
flying in to Terminal 5 from a trans-border point of origin so I could
stock up at the World Duty Free Arrivals Store. If I were lucky they'd
have my favorite,
Glenmorangie Cellar 13,
a 10-year-old special bottling that until recently was only available
at duty free and was not exported, and to which I am extremely partial.
To sip a wee dram at Heathrow, perhaps accompanied by a "luxury
chocolate" from The Chocolate Box while perusing a copy of Jackson's
beautifully illustrated
Whiskey (acquired at WH Smith) would be a deep and quiet pleasure with no plane to catch or security queues to endure.