Sometimes the most mundane things make for the most compelling stories.
Such is the case with Alain de Botton's newest nonfiction work, "A Week at the Airport." De Botton, a renowned philosophical writer known for such works as "The Art of Travel" (2002) and "The Architecture of Happiness" (2006), now explores travel on its most basic level: the fundamentals of life at the airport.
In August 2009, British Airways asked de Botton to serve as the "writer−in−residence" for one week at London's Heathrow Airport. He would sleep in an airport hotel, eat only airport food and while away the hours exploring the mechanics behind airport security, checked luggage, flight delays and passenger antics.
Heathrow, the busiest airport in the European Union, sees a total of approximately 185,000 passengers per day, so de Botton by no means lacked material.
Upon first consideration, de Botton's work hardly seems worthy of a book at all. The airport is merely a pit stop on the way to the final destination, the stopover that everyone must experience but that no one considers a vital part of their travel experience. It is stressful, crowded, time−consuming and expensive — necessary but not enjoyable.
Fans of travel writing as a genre will likely be surprised by de Botton's endeavor. He does not explore any of the recognizable facets of travel writing: He doesn't travel to any foreign lands, and he doesn't venture into the unfamiliar.
A book about the worst parts of a vacation — one of life's most enjoyable leisure activities — does not sound appealing. However, de Botton uses his loquacious and articulate methods to draw the reader in and present a view of this usual hassle in an entirely different light.
De Botton looks beyond the trials and tribulations of air travel and exposes a certain charm in the way we get from place to place.
"Nowhere was the airport's charm more concentrated," he writes, "than on the screens placed at intervals across the terminal which announced … the itineraries of aircraft about to take to the skies." People arriving at the airport are struck with a sense of wonder at the names of far−off destinations and the treasures they may hold, all the more elusive due to the lack of information on these screens; they are "all … promises of alternative lives, to which we might appeal at moments of claustrophobia and stagnation."
The book consists of four sections: "Approach," "Departures," "Airside" and "Arrivals." Each chapter chronicles a different facet of airport activity, from check−in and life in an airport hotel to baggage claim and the wide variety of shops available to passengers.
Full−color photographs accompany the text throughout the book, putting an artistic spin on the seemingly banal nature of hours spent at the airport.
De Botton truly tries to become one with his surroundings. He sets up a desk in the middle of Terminal 5, the international terminal, and attempts to befriend passers−by and learn their stories. Characters vary from a man living a double life with two families on two different continents, completely ignorant of each other, to an ordinary family of four taking a much−deserved vacation.
De Botton's philosophical background clearly shines through as he weaves his tale of airport life. His accounts need the extra depth he adds: an hour−by−hour chronicle of eating airport food and people−watching would not, alone, keep a reader interested for over a hundred pages.
He analyzes the heavy anticipation of a vacation, the excitement involved in planning and waiting and then the immediate crash to reality as the self−check−in kiosk malfunctions, the flight is delayed or the transportation on the arrival end doesn't show up.
"A Week at the Airport" helps us to better understand the mechanisms behind transporting us from place to place, and though the airport is a temporary destination, de Botton says, "We will recover an appetite for packing, hoping, and screaming. We will need to go back and learn the important lessons of the airport all over again soon."
