I flew out of Dublin’s new Terminal Two earlier in the week. I say that not as any sort of idle boast, but because the experience was a very odd one. The new terminal is, to all intents and purposes, a ghost terminal.
In fairness to Dublin Airport, there are two things that need mentioning straight away. First, the new terminal only opened just before Christmas, and so not all operations have moved to the new building. Fine. Second, and more relevant, is the fact that the terminal was planned when the Celtic Tiger still had claws, stripes and a pulse. It was conceived when Dublin was a major international destination that needed a state of the art airport. When we weren’t screwed, basically.
This post isn’t about the rights and wrongs of Celtic Tiger planning or the hubris of some Dublin developments of the past few years. Rather, it’s about the odd sensation of being in a virtually empty airport when it should be thronged. Let me explain.
Airports are interesting places. While in the modern age they have become (unfortunately) synonymous with either Ryanair induced queuing frenzies or mass hysteria occasioned by excessive security checks – or both – for me they are still fundamentally exciting places.
Alain de Botton put this best. He sees in the airport a place where we suspend our normal roles and functions in society. Our normal responsibilities – those things which define us in the realm of work, for example – go out the window. The airport is a place where ordinary life roles are suspended and exciting possibility takes their place. Each gate leads to an unknown or far flung (or sometimes more mundane) destination. They offer an escape, of sorts. Each gate allows us to suspend reality – fleetingly – and dream of a different life.
While stress has infected the modern experience of travel more than it perhaps should have, I still enjoy the entire performance. That’s why Terminal Two was so disappointing, in a sense. Take all the people out of the airport and you are left with a soulless husk. Remove the people and you remove the sense of possibility, the suspension of social roles, the excitement. The gates displayed no exciting and far flung destinations. It was like being in a warehouse (albeit one with an overpriced Thai lunch spot. Empty, of course).
At this juncture, the reader might justifiably say something along the lines of the following: “People in airports just get in the way and cause me further delay when I’m trying to get through security/check in/board.” And that’s a point that I take on board. My response? Get there earlier. Seriously. Try being punctual and embrace the airport experience. Observe around you. Suspend reality. Consider the possibilities. And try not to get riled by the annoying business man speaking too loudly on his mobile.
Terminal Two is in its infancy, and I understand that. I hope that in months to come it will fill out as more airlines move their operations across to the shimmering new building. That may be wishful thinking (and a political and economic issue). However, for now, the experience of Terminal Two is disappointing and underwhelming. This is nothing to do with the facility itself, and has everything to do with paucity of people moving through it.
Will this be a terminal decline? Who knows.
