The Sunday Six: Pleasures of Air Travel in the Developing World

It’s easy to whinge about air travel in the developing world, heaven knows. But here are six unexpected pleasures that sometimes go with the territory.

Dazzling Flights

On small planes going out of small airfields in the developing world, you generally fly low and slow over undeveloped terrain. As rivers unfold below you, and mountains gently rise, it feels like a return to the golden age of air travel – or, if you’ve seen as many junk movies as I have, that scrolling map thing they do in Indiana Jones and the early Bond films. (And, yes, their earlier precursors too.)

Beautiful Airports

First world airports are sprawling great concrete places, gashes on the fringes of the urban landscape. Smaller airports in the developing world nestle very unobtrusively in their surroundings, often with runways leading right up to the sea, framed by mountains or surrounded by desert.

Not the best thing for the nervous flier, obviously. Or safety in general. But a lovely place to wait. And, often, a pleasant little stroll to your plane across grass and, often, tarmac too.

A Window Onto Local Culture

While I have every sympathy with the good folk who are proposing a child-free First Class option as a premium upgrade on planes – though I do think they should market it as “noise-free” for the sake of equality – there’s nothing quite like taking a plane with chickens, goats and bare-bottomed children, plus capacious plastic bags of imported goodies, to give you an insight into daily life in the place you’re visiting.

The vomit? Not such a high point. And, in cultures where squat toilets are the norm, I’d recommend going before you board, or very early in the flight.

That Sense of Celebration

In fairness, my most frightening flight ever was not on a developing world airline. No, sirree. It was Tiger Airways, into Melbourne, through a localized rainstorm that required the pilot to take THREE (count’em) goes at the runway to land. Without so much as a tannoy message to reassure his sweating cargo. Presumably the poor chap was too busy trying not to crash.

All the same, all but three of Indonesia’s scheduled airlines (Garuda, AirAsia and Batavia) are barred from European airspace. So after one of Merpati’s MA-60s fell out of the sky over Papua, amid a corruption scandal impressive even by Indonesia’s high standards in such matters, we developed a good eye for an MA-60.

I’m a child of the 70s, when air travel was infinitely more exciting and novel than it is now, and it was common for everyone on the plane to break into relieved applause on landing. Landing safely in one of Merpati’s MA-60’s on a rural airstrip brought all those feelings back – and, yes, I started a round of applause.

Personal Service

In the first world, airport parking is a confusing rigmarole of tickets and buses. Whether in Heathrow parking enclaves or the welter of vast Gatwick parking lots, the experience is expensive and anonymous.

Contrast this with Labuanbajo, Flores, Indonesia. We arrived on our motorbike. Which was when I realized there was nowhere to leave it for the few days we’d be away.

We went to the airport office. One of the staff took my keys, drove the bike to his house, and brought it back – freshly washed! – in time for our return. At small airports, people care about you.

Freedom to Wander

There are, obviously, pros and cons to this particular benefit of developing world airports. I’m not a nervous flier, but boarding a plane without having to show any ID does bring out the FAA in me, as does the chance to wander out of the airport and onto the field at will.

That said, relax into it and the odd long wait – and they do happen — will pass far more pleasantly than it will under fluorescent lights. You’ll probably be able to smoke. There’ll certainly be a range of more or less crazy snacks. And, if sunbathing’s your thing, you can do that too.

Unless you’re in one of those airports that’s developed enough not to let you out of the gate, but not developed enough to have decent facilities. In which case, I’m afraid, you’ll be living like boat people, if not the Thriller zombies, for the duration. Which could feel like a VERY long time.