I am in the airport on Koh Samui. But then again, am I really? I think my taxi driver pulled a joke on me and has instead brought me to a theme park, a playful, cleaner, nicer version of reality. As I’m typing this, a tiny sparrow has just landed in front of me. I fully expect it to break into song any second.
You thought I was making that up, huh? Side note – are there sparrow psychopaths?
I am sitting on rattan beach furniture in an open beach-style cabana overlooking the runway, a picturesque little pond and what I can only assume is the transport to the planes. The transport looks more like those little trains that take kids and grandparents around amusement parks than the usual worn-out buses. I expect there’s a sign that says You must be this tall to ride somewhere.
As you walk into the airport you think to yourself, ah how nice, they’ve made the front open-air and with wood, what a nice change to the usually drab functional spaces of small airports. Creative with those lights too.
That’s only the start. As you follow the sign to the departure gates you leave the counters behind and step onto a non-Disneypark version of Maine Street USA, or a really well-groomed high street in an upscale beach city. You’re walking down a manicured pedestrian zone, not a corridor. All the shops are still closed but I still get the impression that they get a lot of business.
When I get to security I can’t help but film the Lord of The Rings like architecture and babbling brook but promptly get chastised. Seems I am in an airport after all.
As I get to my gate area I have moved from a theme park into the airy lobby of a beach hotel. There’s a complimentary corner with free hot drinks, sweet and savoury nibbles, slushies and popcorn. Popcorn! At what airport do you get free popcorn?!?!?