The fault is in our Star Alliance

I’m flying from Terminal 2 at Singapore, which is a confounding experience. The check-in area is enormous, with high, high ceilings and a real feeling of space. Then you go through the passport check into the usual maze of overpriced duty free. And then, because I’m on an ANA flight to Tokyo, I walk a very long way, past increasingly depressing shops selling stronger and stronger lager that must be consumed before boarding your plane, while the ceilings get lower and lower and the carpets grow more gloomy (and what sense does it make to have carpets in an airport in the tropics, unless you’re trying to boast about how much money you’re spending on air conditioning to atop them getting mouldy?)

Is the fault in our stars, or with the airport? Or is it just that nobody should be flying on a red eye on a Sunday night for business, when all around are backpackers in Thai fisherman’s trousers and bad tans, on their way back from adventure or casual filth, while you’re schlepping around with a two-tonne corporate laptop hewn from purest lead?

What I’m trying to say is, business travel isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.


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