When our flight arrived in Catania, our trip through the airport was so rapid that I did not have time to stop and reflect on the airport as a traveler. On our way out of the airport, though, we were at leisure to see how this airport fared, and it is hard to imagine an airport that is less designed for the comfort and pleasure of the people who happen to be in it. Indeed, one can safely say that there are no seats that I was able to see in the airport for people who were not either paying customers of the various restaurants at the airport–all of which were on the far side of security–or for the handicapped. Everyone else was expected to either sit on the floor or outside. That an airport could be so perversely designed for people who were supposed to stay there for hours is baffling to me–how could they not have foreseen or acted in a way that would make passengers want to travel from or through such a place. The absence of accessible internet is a similar lapse, as if the airport simply refuses to act in ways that are friendly towards travelers.

As it was, we had to spend a bit of time at the airport, which meant checking in, sitting down in one set of chairs waiting for assistance, and moving through security–which proved to be a hassle since the conveyor dropped my shoes off and I had to hunt them underneath–and then waiting in a pretty quiet room for assistance on the plane. The people we interacted with were friendly enough, both in the airport as well as on the plane, and we were seated towards the back of the plane and able to enjoy it. I sat next to a friendly Moroccan young woman who worked as a bartender and had a couple of young daughters who spoke Arabic, French, and Italian but not English and was traveling with a group of women who liked to dance together and have fun with each other to Malta, leaving their family and significant others behind, presumably, in Italy, for the weekend or however long they planned to stay.

When we arrived in Malta and got off the plane pretty quickly it was again a pretty rapid experience for us to move through the airport to get our bags and then go off to the taxi to the bed and breakfast we had rented. Taxi service in Malta is distinctive in that one pays at a booth at the airport based on how far away one’s destination is from the airport and then a taxi driver agrees to take one to one’s destination. After we paid for our taxi ride–a modest 15 euros–the taxi drivers there discussed among themselves who would be willing to take us to a place that none of them were familiar with. Finally, an older driver took the lead and off we were, following the directions on google maps, which led us along narrow alleyways bounded by fences that were near the airport before getting us to a brief drive along the main highway, and then depositing us at a regimental base for the Maltese military. We were a bit nonplussed by this, but the base did not seem upset to see a confused taxi driver and two puzzled American tourists, and pointed us to the road that wound its way besides the military base until we arrived at the bed and breakfast and were let in. We were tired enough after we checked in–and I was quite sunburned from my morning mountain hiking–that by the time I was ready to hike to dinner the sky was being lit up by fireworks and the hotel was closed for the night, which meant I had to go to bed a bit on the hungry side, looking forward to breakfast at least, and more to eat on the morrow.