Reflections on Air Travel

It wasn't really a nightmare, but a recurring dream. I'm a passenger on a jet aircraft, seated next to a window, and we're on approach to a landing. We're below the level of the surrounding buildings, making gentle turns. There are red tiled roofs, and and drying laundry; we fly over telephone poles and under bridges. It isn't frightening, as we seemed to be well under control, but it certainly seems unusual. In my dream, we never land.

The dream started shortly after my first trip to Brazil and the related landing at Congonhas Airport in Rio de Janiero. The real landing wasn't quit that bad, but it was close.

As a business traveler, I liked my airports close to the city. The cost of a cab ride from outlying airports was prohibitive, and, unless you were a regular visitor, the local public transportation options were confusing and cumbersome. So, if I had the option, I would choose LaGuardia over JFK, Reagan National over Dulles, and the domestic airport, Congonhas over the international, Galeao.

My guess is that airline pilots prefer the wide open spaces of the newer airports away from the city. Runways are longer, approaches and departures are straighter and there are fewer noise abatement procedures to deal with.

The dream is long gone, but it was brought to mind last week with the report of the tragic crash at Congonhas.