Worst Airport in the World?

World's worst airport


  • Total voters
    14
Dak running at a fairly high and thirsty power setting. Gave a good indication of just how slow the thing is. Inter and transcontinental ops must have been a bloody nightmare.
C-47/R4D with Pratts 145Kts cruise, 90 galls/hour from memory, could get about 160/5Kts if pushing it, with not much more available. Can't remember fuel burn at full chat, we rarely used it.

Flew 3’and 4’s in Libya, then 3’s in Kenya Uganda and Tanzania with East Af. Same ones my old man had flown when they began the airline with him and five other Kenya born pilots seconded from the RAF to BOAC. They did their civil licences then flew 6 De Havilland Rapides (Domine’s) out to Nairobi to begin services. Later got Doves, Howards, then DC3’s which served to just before the very end of the airlines life when it ceased service in 1977.

The 3’s in 1951 from my dad’s log book were operating as far N as Jeddah for the Haj flights, Khartoum, weekly flights Nairobi to Durban. A round trip to Durban took 4 days. Nairobi, Mombasa, Dar Es Salaam, Lumbo, Laurenco Marques, then Durban where they stayed at the Park View Hotel. Other destinations included Ndola, Abercorn, Lusaka, Salisbury,Blantyre, and Beira.

Got over 3,000hrs on 3’s and loved them, an amazing aircraft, leaked like a sieve in the wet weather, and could take a real beating in turbulence. Once flying with a new indigenous F/O coming back from Iringa to Dar we were cruising Eastbound at 12,000’ about 80miles to go there was a line storm between us and Dar. Tops to about 50,000’ massive anvils and it stretched south at least 100 miles as far as Lindi. It was a weekend, and to go N round it would be only a slight detour but would take us into the TPDF training block which was a prohibited area.

I explained to the new F/O who I was training, that as it was a Sunday and the TPDF didn’t fly on weekends, and a small clip into the training area was unlikely to A) be seen and B) no TPDF pilot in his right mind,if he was flying that day, would want to be anywhere near this beast. We would also be safer going N around it as any hail coming out of the tops would be spraying out downwind and South of our intended route.

Deciding that as this was going to add time I would take a leak, and having briefed him left him at the control’s, he had been doing a pretty good job, and headed for the can at the back. As soon as I started making my way down the aisle, inevitably was being asked questions by chatty pax all the way. Finally got to the heads had unzipped and was full flow when it suddenly got very dark and the next minute all hell broke loose.

I found myself pissing at the ceiling, and the chemical toilet had spewed it contents of blue chemical and various other unmentionables which were now airborne with me. The crockery in the galley next door was crashing and breaking, and the stewardess’s high pitched screaming was leading the chorus from the passengers. I struggled out of the heads and fought my way up the aisle of a plane that was going bat shit crazy, and carrying a load of people who were certainly going along with that act very very noisily.

As I entered the cockpit section I could see the F/O who looked like a rodeo cowboy on a Brahma Bull, his left arm was flailing in the air hand holding an empty plastic cup, his right hand clutching with a death grip on a control column that was shaking him like a terrier with a rat. It was very dark, we were in cloud, and one could not immediately make out quite what attitude we were in. The altimeter which I had immediately looked for, was whirling round rapidly, but up or down I could not tell. Once in the seat and strapped in, bit of a struggle, I took control from a very relieved and terrified F/O and I remember noting in a weird surreal moment that his face had gone from an inky black to a sort of dark grey.

Having established with huge relief that we were climbing rather than diving, albeit at a rate I had never before experienced, I began a turn to the left of the track we had been heading as the storm had been to our right. The plane was experiencing unprecedented level of violent turbulence which seemed to me intent on tearing us to pieces. All needles were bouncing wildly but I establish as best I could a safe airspeed of about 120kts and as we were still climbing, reduced power to 16 inches of manifold which is idle power in the Dak.

This seemed to have little effect, still climbing, so called for ten flap reduced A/S back to 105 then called for gear and20 degrees. Gear down, flaps 20, idle thrust, still climbing!! Back to 95kts and full/40 degrees flap. Still climbing!!! Getting light now, heading North and getting lighter. Finally passing 21,000’ I pulled the power all the way back. This is normally a no no because it puts back pressure on the prop and engine bearings but needs must and all that. We popped out of cloud into bright sunshine just approaching 22’000’ but at 95 Kts, with gear and flaps down and in a nose down attitude.

Fervent thanks to the man upstairs... we were alive!!!!!!!

Cleaned up the plane, and began a descent. Then asked the F/O what exactly had he been thinking. I was so happy that we were in one piece that I was not angry just hugely relieved. He explained to me that he had been curious about how it felt in a cumulus cloud as they had always avoided them in training for his Instrument rating. I asked him why that might have been. He told be that his instructors had told him it would be turbulent but he did not know how turbulent and had decided to find out.

I was at a loss for words. Finaly told him to go back and check the cabin to see if we had lost or damaged any of of our self loading freight, and to see if we had any unconscious babies or old folk due to our altitude, then check if our hostie was still alive.

He could while doing, that also please explain to them how he had been caught in a storm he had been unable to avoid. I was definitely dodging responsibility here, but since they were all the same race, if not tribe...and they all knew it had not been me at the controls when all hell had broken loose, they could vent their collective fury, terror, indignation and woes on his ass and not mine.

Yes the good old Dak was a very tough bird.

Apologies for thread drift, and as for crap airports, in 40 odd years of commercial flying round the world can’t begin to remember them all, and there were some real doozies.
 
not in the same league as some of the horror stories so far, I'd like to give an honourable mention to Vic Falls as was (ie not the Chinese new build)

BA flight touches down on time pretty much, then we sit on the plane for an hour because "ladies and gentlemen they've lost the steps"

finally get out and onto the tarmac, quite literally onto the tarmac, because in the blazing heat of an African afternoon (through a megaphone) "ladies and gentlemen, we can't find the keys to the terminal and the caretaker is having his lunch."

45 mins later, we queued to get into arrivals, missing ceiling tiles providing a cooling downpour of air conditioning liquid onto our heads. Through passport control and there's all the luggage, from a 170 seat (full plane) in a heap on the floor, take your pick. AWA.

I've said the next bit before but for the full dit value.... we got a taxi into town and the driver was actually a good guy, so we booked him for the return to the airport a few days later. On the way back to the airport he got lost (having done no airport runs in the meantime) because since we'd arrived the Chinese had remodelled the road network by the airport and moved the entrance.

AWA.

On the other hand, I can highly recommend Madikwe East - it's got a thatched waiting room.
 

ugly

LE
Moderator
I rather liked Inverness airport, far too small to allow the standard airport ******** employee to hide!
 

dabber69

Swinger
The object of the exercise when sailing out of Tamar on patrol was to sail under the airport approach and clip the under carriage of landing jets with the mast , of course we never got close but it was fun and noisy.
I was on Wasperton out there and what a jolly wardroom weeze to see if we could get through the gap at the same time as a big silver bird.

*******
 
C-47/R4D with Pratts 145Kts cruise, 90 galls/hour from memory, could get about 160/5Kts if pushing it, with not much more available. Can't remember fuel burn at full chat, we rarely used it.

Flew 3’and 4’s in Libya, then 3’s in Kenya Uganda and Tanzania with East Af. Same ones my old man had flown when they began the airline with him and five other Kenya born pilots seconded from the RAF to BOAC. They did their civil licences then flew 6 De Havilland Rapides (Domine’s) out to Nairobi to begin services. Later got Doves, Howards, then DC3’s which served to just before the very end of the airlines life when it ceased service in 1977.

The 3’s in 1951 from my dad’s log book were operating as far N as Jeddah for the Haj flights, Khartoum, weekly flights Nairobi to Durban. A round trip to Durban took 4 days. Nairobi, Mombasa, Dar Es Salaam, Lumbo, Laurenco Marques, then Durban where they stayed at the Park View Hotel. Other destinations included Ndola, Abercorn, Lusaka, Salisbury,Blantyre, and Beira.

Got over 3,000hrs on 3’s and loved them, an amazing aircraft, leaked like a sieve in the wet weather, and could take a real beating in turbulence. Once flying with a new indigenous F/O coming back from Iringa to Dar we were cruising Eastbound at 12,000’ about 80miles to go there was a line storm between us and Dar. Tops to about 50,000’ massive anvils and it stretched south at least 100 miles as far as Lindi. It was a weekend, and to go N round it would be only a slight detour but would take us into the TPDF training block which was a prohibited area.

I explained to the new F/O who I was training, that as it was a Sunday and the TPDF didn’t fly on weekends, and a small clip into the training area was unlikely to A) be seen and B) no TPDF pilot in his right mind,if he was flying that day, would want to be anywhere near this beast. We would also be safer going N around it as any hail coming out of the tops would be spraying out downwind and South of our intended route.

Deciding that as this was going to add time I would take a leak, and having briefed him left him at the control’s, he had been doing a pretty good job, and headed for the can at the back. As soon as I started making my way down the aisle, inevitably was being asked questions by chatty pax all the way. Finally got to the heads had unzipped and was full flow when it suddenly got very dark and the next minute all hell broke loose.

I found myself pissing at the ceiling, and the chemical toilet had spewed it contents of blue chemical and various other unmentionables which were now airborne with me. The crockery in the galley next door was crashing and breaking, and the stewardess’s high pitched screaming was leading the chorus from the passengers. I struggled out of the heads and fought my way up the aisle of a plane that was going bat shit crazy, and carrying a load of people who were certainly going along with that act very very noisily.

As I entered the cockpit section I could see the F/O who looked like a rodeo cowboy on a Brahma Bull, his left arm was flailing in the air hand holding an empty plastic cup, his right hand clutching with a death grip on a control column that was shaking him like a terrier with a rat. It was very dark, we were in cloud, and one could not immediately make out quite what attitude we were in. The altimeter which I had immediately looked for, was whirling round rapidly, but up or down I could not tell. Once in the seat and strapped in, bit of a struggle, I took control from a very relieved and terrified F/O and I remember noting in a weird surreal moment that his face had gone from an inky black to a sort of dark grey.

Having established with huge relief that we were climbing rather than diving, albeit at a rate I had never before experienced, I began a turn to the left of the track we had been heading as the storm had been to our right. The plane was experiencing unprecedented level of violent turbulence which seemed to me intent on tearing us to pieces. All needles were bouncing wildly but I establish as best I could a safe airspeed of about 120kts and as we were still climbing, reduced power to 16 inches of manifold which is idle power in the Dak.

This seemed to have little effect, still climbing, so called for ten flap reduced A/S back to 105 then called for gear and20 degrees. Gear down, flaps 20, idle thrust, still climbing!! Back to 95kts and full/40 degrees flap. Still climbing!!! Getting light now, heading North and getting lighter. Finally passing 21,000’ I pulled the power all the way back. This is normally a no no because it puts back pressure on the prop and engine bearings but needs must and all that. We popped out of cloud into bright sunshine just approaching 22’000’ but at 95 Kts, with gear and flaps down and in a nose down attitude.

Fervent thanks to the man upstairs... we were alive!!!!!!!

Cleaned up the plane, and began a descent. Then asked the F/O what exactly had he been thinking. I was so happy that we were in one piece that I was not angry just hugely relieved. He explained to me that he had been curious about how it felt in a cumulus cloud as they had always avoided them in training for his Instrument rating. I asked him why that might have been. He told be that his instructors had told him it would be turbulent but he did not know how turbulent and had decided to find out.

I was at a loss for words. Finaly told him to go back and check the cabin to see if we had lost or damaged any of of our self loading freight, and to see if we had any unconscious babies or old folk due to our altitude, then check if our hostie was still alive.

He could while doing, that also please explain to them how he had been caught in a storm he had been unable to avoid. I was definitely dodging responsibility here, but since they were all the same race, if not tribe...and they all knew it had not been me at the controls when all hell had broken loose, they could vent their collective fury, terror, indignation and woes on his ass and not mine.

Yes the good old Dak was a very tough bird.

Apologies for thread drift, and as for crap airports, in 40 odd years of commercial flying round the world can’t begin to remember them all, and there were some real doozies.
That‘s some dit! Thankfully, I can’t begin to compete and fervently wish I never will.

ITCZ?

Northbound out of Accra and the weather radar went tartan. I honestly thought for a minute or two that it had a fault as this perfectly symmetrical band went first green, then amber then red; it looked like the cross section of a kid’s sweet.

Then the lightning started, like a cheap B movie about the Western Front, wall to wall across the visible horizon. It was still smooth but there wasn’t the slightest hint of a gap and anyway, in a weather system like that, any gap was almost by definition a Sucker’s Gap. Good though modern weather radar is, it has a nasty habit of masking an even bigger cell behind the one you’re looking at.

Turned upwind to fly parallel with it hoping it was just a mahoosive squall line but gave up after 200 miles and went back to Accra.

I believe I’m the only person in history able to say this, I was mighty glad to land in Accra.

I‘ve seen big weather in the Straits of Malacca, the southern US and Caribbean and plenty of others but it‘s usually fairly isolated. Africa is a very different animal.
 

Oyibo

LE
C-47/R4D with Pratts 145Kts cruise, 90 galls/hour from memory, could get about 160/5Kts if pushing it, with not much more available. Can't remember fuel burn at full chat, we rarely used it.

Flew 3’and 4’s in Libya, then 3’s in Kenya Uganda and Tanzania with East Af. Same ones my old man had flown when they began the airline with him and five other Kenya born pilots seconded from the RAF to BOAC. They did their civil licences then flew 6 De Havilland Rapides (Domine’s) out to Nairobi to begin services. Later got Doves, Howards, then DC3’s which served to just before the very end of the airlines life when it ceased service in 1977.

The 3’s in 1951 from my dad’s log book were operating as far N as Jeddah for the Haj flights, Khartoum, weekly flights Nairobi to Durban. A round trip to Durban took 4 days. Nairobi, Mombasa, Dar Es Salaam, Lumbo, Laurenco Marques, then Durban where they stayed at the Park View Hotel. Other destinations included Ndola, Abercorn, Lusaka, Salisbury,Blantyre, and Beira.

Got over 3,000hrs on 3’s and loved them, an amazing aircraft, leaked like a sieve in the wet weather, and could take a real beating in turbulence. Once flying with a new indigenous F/O coming back from Iringa to Dar we were cruising Eastbound at 12,000’ about 80miles to go there was a line storm between us and Dar. Tops to about 50,000’ massive anvils and it stretched south at least 100 miles as far as Lindi. It was a weekend, and to go N round it would be only a slight detour but would take us into the TPDF training block which was a prohibited area.

I explained to the new F/O who I was training, that as it was a Sunday and the TPDF didn’t fly on weekends, and a small clip into the training area was unlikely to A) be seen and B) no TPDF pilot in his right mind,if he was flying that day, would want to be anywhere near this beast. We would also be safer going N around it as any hail coming out of the tops would be spraying out downwind and South of our intended route.

Deciding that as this was going to add time I would take a leak, and having briefed him left him at the control’s, he had been doing a pretty good job, and headed for the can at the back. As soon as I started making my way down the aisle, inevitably was being asked questions by chatty pax all the way. Finally got to the heads had unzipped and was full flow when it suddenly got very dark and the next minute all hell broke loose.

I found myself pissing at the ceiling, and the chemical toilet had spewed it contents of blue chemical and various other unmentionables which were now airborne with me. The crockery in the galley next door was crashing and breaking, and the stewardess’s high pitched screaming was leading the chorus from the passengers. I struggled out of the heads and fought my way up the aisle of a plane that was going bat shit crazy, and carrying a load of people who were certainly going along with that act very very noisily.

As I entered the cockpit section I could see the F/O who looked like a rodeo cowboy on a Brahma Bull, his left arm was flailing in the air hand holding an empty plastic cup, his right hand clutching with a death grip on a control column that was shaking him like a terrier with a rat. It was very dark, we were in cloud, and one could not immediately make out quite what attitude we were in. The altimeter which I had immediately looked for, was whirling round rapidly, but up or down I could not tell. Once in the seat and strapped in, bit of a struggle, I took control from a very relieved and terrified F/O and I remember noting in a weird surreal moment that his face had gone from an inky black to a sort of dark grey.

Having established with huge relief that we were climbing rather than diving, albeit at a rate I had never before experienced, I began a turn to the left of the track we had been heading as the storm had been to our right. The plane was experiencing unprecedented level of violent turbulence which seemed to me intent on tearing us to pieces. All needles were bouncing wildly but I establish as best I could a safe airspeed of about 120kts and as we were still climbing, reduced power to 16 inches of manifold which is idle power in the Dak.

This seemed to have little effect, still climbing, so called for ten flap reduced A/S back to 105 then called for gear and20 degrees. Gear down, flaps 20, idle thrust, still climbing!! Back to 95kts and full/40 degrees flap. Still climbing!!! Getting light now, heading North and getting lighter. Finally passing 21,000’ I pulled the power all the way back. This is normally a no no because it puts back pressure on the prop and engine bearings but needs must and all that. We popped out of cloud into bright sunshine just approaching 22’000’ but at 95 Kts, with gear and flaps down and in a nose down attitude.

Fervent thanks to the man upstairs... we were alive!!!!!!!

Cleaned up the plane, and began a descent. Then asked the F/O what exactly had he been thinking. I was so happy that we were in one piece that I was not angry just hugely relieved. He explained to me that he had been curious about how it felt in a cumulus cloud as they had always avoided them in training for his Instrument rating. I asked him why that might have been. He told be that his instructors had told him it would be turbulent but he did not know how turbulent and had decided to find out.

I was at a loss for words. Finaly told him to go back and check the cabin to see if we had lost or damaged any of of our self loading freight, and to see if we had any unconscious babies or old folk due to our altitude, then check if our hostie was still alive.

He could while doing, that also please explain to them how he had been caught in a storm he had been unable to avoid. I was definitely dodging responsibility here, but since they were all the same race, if not tribe...and they all knew it had not been me at the controls when all hell had broken loose, they could vent their collective fury, terror, indignation and woes on his ass and not mine.

Yes the good old Dak was a very tough bird.

Apologies for thread drift, and as for crap airports, in 40 odd years of commercial flying round the world can’t begin to remember them all, and there were some real doozies.
Have a piece of nostalgia (taken in Kinshasa last year).

1596717654767.png
 

Glad_its_all_over

ADC
Book Reviewer
All these horror stories, it's worth noting that Africa also has some real jewels - notably Sir Seretse Khama International in Gaborone.

Airside, waiting for the flight to Joburg, asked the guy in the departure lounge if there was a smoking room. "No," he said and unlocked a service door and he and I went to stand next to the aviation fuel store to enjoy a bracing Embassy Number One.
 
On the other hand, I can highly recommend Madikwe East - it's got a thatched waiting room.
As did Punta Cana in the Dom Rep. Very attractive it was too, matched the tower well as that too, was all palm frond roof.

Pity about the hurricane.

Got chatting to a bush pilot in Mombasa in the bar and he set me up a good deal for a few days on the Masai Mara. Quite possibly the most magical experience of my life but it didn’t start too auspiciously....

He‘d laid on a few beers on this LET 410 and by the time we’d dropped everyone else off at various strips along the way, I was cross eyed for a slash.

He dumped me in Oikyombo, 400 metres of gravel, high up on the Mara Plain, quick 180 and gone before I’ve zipped the old chap away. Total silence, night falling, no longer total silence, quite a lot of things howling and roaring in a toothy sort of way and there’s me, freshly marinaded in beer and highly digestible.

For some reason I checked for a mobile phone signal. An Englishman Abroad. Lots of rustling in the grass. Thankfully I’d just had a piss or there would‘ve been a bit of a dhobi crisis.

Thank feck, a Masai chap bounces over the horizon in the world’s oldest Landy and in perfect English apologises for being late, he‘d had to take a big detour as a big cat of some sort had just made its first kill after being weaned and leaving mum and they didn’t want to disturb it. A bit different from “sorry, the 1657 is cancelled because there’s no train crew”.

Where the hell is this going? Oh yes, the terminal. One sheet of wriggly tin on four spindly logs.
 
As did Punta Cana in the Dom Rep. Very attractive it was too, matched the tower well as that too, was all palm frond roof.

Pity about the hurricane.

Got chatting to a bush pilot in Mombasa in the bar and he set me up a good deal for a few days on the Masai Mara. Quite possibly the most magical experience of my life but it didn’t start too auspiciously....

He‘d laid on a few beers on this LET 410 and by the time we’d dropped everyone else off at various strips along the way, I was cross eyed for a slash.

He dumped me in Oikyombo, 400 metres of gravel, high up on the Mara Plain, quick 180 and gone before I’ve zipped the old chap away. Total silence, night falling, no longer total silence, quite a lot of things howling and roaring in a toothy sort of way and there’s me, freshly marinaded in beer and highly digestible.

For some reason I checked for a mobile phone signal. An Englishman Abroad. Lots of rustling in the grass. Thankfully I’d just had a piss or there would‘ve been a bit of a dhobi crisis.

Thank feck, a Masai chap bounces over the horizon in the world’s oldest Landy and in perfect English apologises for being late, he‘d had to take a big detour as a big cat of some sort had just made its first kill after being weaned and leaving mum and they didn’t want to disturb it. A bit different from “sorry, the 1657 is cancelled because there’s no train crew”.

Where the hell is this going? Oh yes, the terminal. One sheet of wriggly tin on four spindly logs.
A6283B3C-C192-4994-A340-3918B16D771F.jpeg


Bit like this then. Waiting room Masia Mara style. At least there was a toilet .
 
View attachment 494984

Bit like this then. Waiting room Masia Mara style. At least there was a toilet .
Nah, that’s above head height and massive. A toilet you say?

Absolutely brilliant place though, and the Masai were the most amazing people, eco tourism at its most basic and therefore most effective, they know what the flora and fauna can sustain and simply don’t do anything that might compromise that thus securing the future for both them and their habitat.
 

ACAB

LE
Try Khartoum. In simple terms - fcukin mental.....

CDG - I feel your pain - utter dogshit
Ah, yes Khartoum in the Sudan. We once stopped off there on the way back from Kenya because one of the engines was playing up (RAF Herc). We got off and there wasn't even the Presidential Nissan Hut. We walked off the plane and there was this huge drop where the runway ended and the desert began. I remember seeing glowing green eyes as the local wildlife surveyed us.
 

Glad_its_all_over

ADC
Book Reviewer
Let's not forget the exotic delights of Moscow Sheremetevo, built for the 1980 Olympics and largely untouched by maintenance or cleaning since.

The 'new' airport at Domodedovo is, well, not as bad as many African airports and the BA Lounge is bearable' most international flights in and out go via Domodedovo and it's.. well,OK.

Sheremetevo's where you go if you're flying internal or with a cheap ex-Commie airline. Oh. My. God. Filthy dirty and falling apart, that's doable. Wall-to-wall gangsters, ne'er-do-well, obscure nomads, confused Central Asian grannies, more gangsters (note, the gangsters are all 2nd and 3rd Division types, not proper Vory v Zakone, they can afford to fly either Western or bizdzhet charter, so very 90s in their black leather and blue-and-white striped T-shirts) - and every swinging dick is looking to earn from you, or nick your stuff or offer you incredible business deals.

We were flying to Warsaw and a well-meaning travel clerk had booked us on the LOT flight 'as it was cheap'. A gang of hideously drunken Russians were forklifted on to the aircraft and could be heard, from where we were in Business, giving it large all the way. Lots of drama.

Landed in Warsaw, plane parked up away from the terminal, stairs wheeled up and the door burst open and roughly a metric fucktonload of huge Polish riot cops charged in, made for the back of the plane, comedy beating noises ensued and a series of recumbent, bloody, unconscious figures were kicked along the aircraft and down the steps to the waiting Polish riot vans.

This being late December time, I can only assume this represented a sincere and loving Christmas present from the FSB Border Guards to the Polish riot police. It was certainly very gratefully and enthusiastically received.
 
Fife Airport, Glenrothes.....Dreadful

I went for a flight last year, followed by lunch at "The Tipsy Nipper" restaurant, and the chips with my fish and chips were definitely well below standard, I mean , Frozen chips FFS
 

Oyibo

LE
Snipped

My all time bad experience was at Lagos. During the volcano eruption that stopped all flights to Europe there had been no flights for a few weeks and on the day it was lifted the airport was rammed. Locals were looking to get a seat on anything and I don't think any of them had a ticket. We literally had to barge people out of the way to get to the check in desks. and they must have been 50 deep from the entrance. They don't move when asked to so it was elbows out and head down and plough through them. Zero attempt by the police to control any of it.

I'm glad it's all behind me now.
By pure chance I flew out of Lagos to go to Geneva just before the eruption of the unpronounceable volcano. And then I had to delay my flight from Geneva to home.

A friend worked for Virgin Nigeria when they started up. The company had a strict 'if you don't turn up on time for check-in, you aint getting on' policy. Needless to say, in Africa (let alone Nigeria), this was always going to be a difficult policy to implement. Said friend was called-out every evening they flew to deal with aggressive incidents at the check-in desks.
 
All these horror stories, it's worth noting that Africa also has some real jewels - notably Sir Seretse Khama International in Gaborone.

Airside, waiting for the flight to Joburg, asked the guy in the departure lounge if there was a smoking room. "No," he said and unlocked a service door and he and I went to stand next to the aviation fuel store to enjoy a bracing Embassy Number One.
More seriously, there are some good ones in Africa - Jo'burg Rand is a genuine delight, and even Smuts/ORT is fine in a functional international airport with some crazy African edges sort of way.

Although the less said about Lanseria the better....
 

Oyibo

LE
More seriously, there are some good ones in Africa - Jo'burg Rand is a genuine delight, and even Smuts/ORT is fine in a functional international airport with some crazy African edges sort of way.

Although the less said about Lanseria the better....
The new (well, not so new any more) CPT is awesome. But enough of the good ones - I want the dogshite hell holes in far flung parts of the world. E.g. the old aiport in Owerri, Nigeria.

Oh! And Port f*cking Harcourt.
 

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