Trip report: Geneva airport

Our layover in the Geneva airport on our return from Europe was one of the worst airport experiences of my life. While Reykjavik airport was a showcase for a well-constructed, easy-to-use small airport, the Geneva airport is a shining example of the worst in all facets of airport design. There is only one thing to recommend it: if you want to buy a watch, this is your place. Apparently, however, none of the staff can afford one. Or a map. Or manners. Or common sense.

We landed in Geneva with plenty of time to spare before our next flight. On exiting the arrival gate, we found ourselves at a crossroads, with two unlabeled hallways extending in either direction with no indication whatsoever of where either one went. Yielding to our lemur instinct, we followed the crowd, which turned out to be approximately correct.

From there, we followed a number of twists and turns up what seemed to be narrow back staircases and hidden elevators (which they were), but which were in fact the main thoroughfare.

Unfortunately, there had been a bomb scare somewhere between where we were and where we needed to be, and the police were busily corralling as many civilians as possible directly into what appeared to be the likely bomb radius. Not a single airport staffer or police officer had any idea about keeping civilians away in some more convenient collection point. Also, they all seemed to have some idea that we could get to our gate in some other way, but their directions merely led us all over the airport and got us lost several times before we found out that, in fact, there was no other way to get to our gate.

When the scare finally ended–I assume a handbag was exploded safely–we were allowed to proceed to our gate, where two extremely inefficient individuals were turning everyone away who had not filled out a card that was not provided to anyone before these two individuals gave it to them. When we finally got back this blockade, we were greeted by an airline staff person dressing down a traveller for not getting his seat assignment before arriving at the gate. Perhaps he should have, but this staff person was quite actually yelling at this poor man, who barely understood her, and probably could not find the check-in desks in the first place.

The only place to buy the obligatory bottle of water before boarding the plane is a bar. So my wife ordered one, which the bartender opened for her to pour into a glass. She protested that she wanted to take it with her. At this, the bartender grabbed the bottle back and put it in a specially-sealed plastic bag, saying it was the only way she could bring it on the plane, even though we were well past the security check.

And, of course, there were fifty people smoking at once, which is rather a shock to the system of someone living in a nonsmoking city. We were both near to puking by the time we boarded the plane.

All in all, the Geneva airport was a pretty awful experience, and I would gladly pay an extra few hundred dollars per person to avoid it in the future. The Swiss may be efficient with trains, but in Geneva, at least, they have a lot to learn about airplanes.