Heathrow- The Necessary Evil

Heathrow.  My arch nemesis.   Whenever I am planning a trip and see that I may have to change planes, I try to get a connection through any other airport if at all possible.  So, why do I dislike Heathrow so much when so many people consider it a favorite airport? Most people I talk to enjoy the extensive shopping options that Heathrow offers, since shopping can obviously help pass the time while waiting for a flight.  However, Heathrow has long missed it's chance at winning my affection with material goods. Also, I should add a little disclaimer here, my experiences with Heathrow have all been in regards to transfers, I'm sure it's fine if you just get out in London, but for transfers, NO.  Let me take you back to August 2007, when I first went through the airport on my way to Nice, France with my friend Steve.

 Part 1- Nice, August 2007

I remember that when we bought our tickets, we ended up with about 4 hours between our arrival in London and our next departure for Nice.  This was a good amount of time for a connection, since it would mean that we wouldn't have to rush, and would be able to take our time finding our next gate and just relax.  Oh to be those naive children again!  What actually ended up happening was we arrived in London in I believe Terminal 1 or 2, and we had to go to 4 I think (these details are blurry since it was a while ago) but the point is we were in one terminal and needed to transfer.  Neither one of us realized how large Heathrow is, and that you cannot walk between terminals since they are so far apart, you have to take the shuttle.  So, there we are, off the plane, ready to get to our next terminal and chill out, and we are met with a line of (no joke) at least 500 people, all waiting for the shuttle.  Ok, we thought, no problem, we have plenty of time.  At this point we had about 3 hours before the next flight, rather than the 4 we thought since planes are never precisely on time.  The line was moving very, very slowly, but we figured it was fine since at least it was moving.  We spent a good hour-hour and 15 minutes in line, and by the time we got on the bus we had a little less than 2 hours until our flight.  Keep in mind, we would also have to go through security again, and had no idea how that line would be.  During this time, Heathrow was undergoing some construction, so the shuttles were not able to maneuver quite as easily as usual, and there was a bit of a back up when we finally got to our terminal.  With the shuttle ride and the wait from the construction and line of shuttles in front of us, we had lost another 45 minutes.  So now we were down to about an hour before our next flight.  We rush off the shuttle, and up the escalators to the security checkpoint only to find that the line is just as bad as the shuttle line was, and was barely moving.  By the time we got far enough to give an employee our passports (not even at the actual security machines, I mean at the "entrance" since the line was so far past it) we had 20 minutes to catch our flight.  We hand the man our passports and he lets out a chuckle and goes "oooh, yeah, you've not got a lot of time for that one..." seeing our eyes bulge, the man allowed us to go through the express security lane, which still had quite a few people in it considering it's for those who are about to miss their flights!  So at this point we are down to 10 minutes before our flight leaves.  We're finally through security and in the terminal.  All we had to do was get to Gate 27.  So, where was it?  We looked, and finally spotted the sign for its hallway, and rushed down.  And down.  And down.  And down some more.  Of course the gate was at the end of a ridiculously long hallway, and the absolute LAST one in it.  Everyone has already boarded, they were about to close the doors, so we got on, the last 2 passengers, got in our seats, and basically just froze, beyond worn out.  This is when Steve noticed that somewhere along our journey he had also gotten mysteriously cut, and was bleeding from his arm for apparently no reason at all.  Personally, I think Heathrow just manifested itself somehow and cut him.

Part 2- Dublin, July 2011

After my first experience with Heathrow, neither me nor Steve ever wanted to see that airport ever again.  The mere mention made us want to run to the nearest bar and order some margaritas.  I was able to avoid changing planes there again for quite a few years.  Then in July 2011, I was on my way to Dublin, Ireland, and I had no choice but to transfer in Heathrow.  This time, I would have only an hour and a half to transfer, which made me nervous.  I told myself that the Nice transfer was just a one time thing, and that this transfer wouldn't be as bad.  I reassured myself the entire way there that it would be fine, that I knew what to expect now, and that it wouldn't be as crowded because my flight was getting in at 7:30 am, so the airport is usually emptier.  When I got off the plane, filled with trepidation though I was, I was relieved.  The miles long line for the shuttle was not there, I was able to board immediately.  Great start!  Maybe I was wrong about Heathrow.  I get off the shuttle and to security, and no lines there either! Fantastic!  My apologies, Heathrow, I must've just caught you on a bad day last time!  I get to the terminal and I look at the screen to find my gate for my plane to Dublin since on my ticket the gate was listed as "to be determined", and I did not see it.  So I stopped at the counter and I asked for help locating my flight gate.  The woman told me what I thought was "17E".  let me add, I do not have a problem understanding accents or anything, I''m actually really good with most accents, but I was tired, and I misinterpreted her.  I was not sure if she said 17E or 78.  Seeing as how I was currently right near Gate 12, I figured it must be 17E, because how could a terminal go from 12 to 78, right? WRONG.  I find gate 17 (no E) and it is going to Brussels, so obviously not my flight.  With about 40 minutes to catch my plane (here we go again, 2007 was starting to come back to life) I stop in a shop and I ask if there is a gate 78 in the terminal.  The woman tells me that yes, there is, and "You better hurry because it is all the way on the other side of the terminal".  Of course it was.  I could feel Heathrow's evil grin wash over me as I processed this info.  So, I dashed off, from gate 12, on my search for gate 78.  I passed through so many corridors and doors, I must've walked literally a mile through the terminal, over moving sidewalks, down twisting passageways, all over, I was surprised I wasn't in Delhi by the time I FINALLY got to my gate.  I got there just in time, as everyone was just starting to board the plane.

So, those are the reasons that I do not like Heathrow.  I never have enough time to catch my connecting flights, and I feel that it is just too big,  and too busy (which of course comes from being so large).  I really hope things will be different this summer when I can just get off the plane and into London, and not have to transfer!  Added to this, I will say that I can understand how some people enjoy it, since I like airports that most people do not, like Charles de Gaulle and Fiumicino