The changing face of Gatwick

I used to quite like travelling through Gatwick.  It didn't have the labyrinthine aggro of Heathrow.  The majority of people seemed to be going on holiday, so cheerfulness and good humour prevailed.  The departure lounge was spacious and well-planned.

 

All of that has disappeared in our age of austerity.  Access to the departure lounge involves an obligatory walk down a winding path of sparkling black granite flanked by brightly-lit shops hard-selling such must-haves as Veuve Cliquot and Chanel's latest.  All that's missing is an animated stuffed toy and a change of colour scheme to give the full ghastliness of the Land Of Oz.

 

The once-cheery holidaymakers in their matching shellsuits have been succeeded by the shapeless and ill-clad forms of the New British, vacant-eyed and unsmiling, staring at the departure boards to see whether the flight's delayed or whether they need to start the long pilgrimage down ramps, through corridors, past barriers manned by bored personnel inspecting documents for the thirtieth time, into the cattle-pen departure lounges and finally to the waiting plane.

 

This process is made no easier by building works - allegedly to make the experience more pleasant in the future.  I suspect that this involves an increase in the smiling salespeople attempting to foist unwanted goods on a brutalised public.  I ventured into a branch of WH Smith - seemingly in the process of rebranding itself as something like "Newsagent of the World" - and asked if they had any foreign language newspapers.  I was met with a vacant look by the young assistant, who then remembered her trainng and walked me over to the news-stand, merely to confirm with her own eyes that what was on offer was English language only.  The stand was awash with the Daily Mail, which I only handle with tongs and distaste.  So much for our international and multicultural society.

 

"Sorry we're not looking our best", said the hoarding in front of the building works, beside signs for an emergency exit in case the experience was overly traumatic.  Gentlemen, I'm sorry too.  

 

Antony Mair