![]() ![]() People return from the Big Apple and talk about their trip to its airport instead of its restaurants or museums or theaters. The aircraft taxiways flow now too, making arrivals and departures more efficient. Across the airport, sedans and taxis breeze through drop-offs and pickups unencumbered. Delta’s Terminal C, still under construction, has had its cramped and dingy concourses replaced with airy new spaces and a swank, cavernous airline club. Terminal B, which houses most airlines, feels like a theme park-in a good way. Now, near the end of a nine-year, $8 billion rebuild of its main terminals and roadways, LaGuardia has become an unexpected hero for American infrastructural renewal. Spread across its terminals were abandoned check-in stands gone feral, floors damp with discharged moistures, low ceilings looming over dark corridors. ![]() So is everything in its orbit: the barfsome cab from the city, the shameful indignity of security, the sullen panic of being away from home, and-most of all-the ghastly purgatory of the airport that detains you.įor a very long time, New York City’s LaGuardia Airport felt like the intricately dressed set of an apocalypse film. In 2004, Steven Spielberg made an entire movie about the terror of getting stuck for months in an airport, but I might be happy never to leave the new LaGuardia.Īir travel itself, the part where you are crammed like a rodent into a metal tube, is clearly miserable. ![]()
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