Flying and I have never gotten along very well, so I was surprised to find Terminal 1 at El Prat to be one of the most calming places I have ever visited. I had the uninvited honor of walking the length of the terminal to one of the last gates, but I experienced it with the tranquil breeze that comes after the end of a whirlwind vacation. Abundant light flows uninhibited across its seemingly endless ceiling and reflective surfaces. The whole space is a placid blue—about as warm as blue can get before you start calling it green. A heterotopia of flying both in its construction and in the feelings it invokes. Freedom, safety, and serenity within a vast cathedral of the sky was a welcomed imagination v. the dark, sweaty, and sterile fuselage I was about to be stuck in for the next 10 hours.
Thanks to Ben, Joey and Diana for dealing with the tendency of my mind—and consequently my feet—to wander.