Terminal disappointment

In the final scene of Love, Actually, hordes of hot, smiling people swathed in flattering lighting and fresh makeup come bouncing off planes into Heathrow, and it makes you think, "Damn, international travel is sexy!"

In Rome, Dublin, London, Singapore, Tokyo, Vancouver, and even Paris, I've never had problems figuring out where I need to go. The arrivals halls are usually well designed, with clear, well placed signs. Passport control (a more civilized term than Immigration) is well managed, except at Charles de Gaulle, where queueing is optional, and agents are usually helpful and courteous. ATMs, restrooms, food, and transportation options within sight.

And then there's JFK.
Compared with other international airports, arriving on an overseas flight at JFK is like being on the Dating Game. When you get to the other side of the wall, it can be highly disappointing. Whenever I come back from somewhere else, I brace myself for unhelpful employees, surly customs agents, and confusing signs. I'm not surprised, but I expect better.

The BA departures hall is all right, but the arrivals hall is dismal. Imagine it's your first time jetting in to New York and you're looking forward to bright lights, big city. Instead you enter what looks like a prison waiting room, or worse, the department of motor vehicles. The waiting area looks like an afterthought. If, like we did, you have to wait over an hour for your party to arrive, there aren't a lot of options. You need bionic vision to figure out where the restrooms are. And let's not even talk about what those are like, shall we? There's little thought given to what people might expect once they arrive. After enduring the trifecta of endurance--Immigration, Baggage Claim, and Customs--you'd think you'd get a cheery welcome. Oh, you get a cheer all right--a Bronx cheer. Sucker!

The only kiosk open when we were there was a Subway. I took a picture of the signs on the soda machine, which exemplified JFK's commitment to quality of service: No Cherry Coke, No Root Beer, No Lem., No Ice T, No Hi-C, No Sprite. NO REFILLS. Only Coke or Diet Coke. You don't want that? Fuhgeddaboudit! Welcome to New Yawk.

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