Manchester airport on a Sunday night is a terrifying place! Aliens have removed every single living person – except one at customs – and created non functional escalators.
So if you arrive on a budget airline on a Sunday night and dock at a cheap “parking”, you will find you will have to walk miles and miles through endless passages, up and down endless stairs (next to the endless non-functioning escalators) and into absolutely deserted halls that stretch endlessly into the future of your life. And you will do this struggling along with your luggage.
Your eyes will swivel around looking for a human being employed by the airport, avoiding the eyes of your fellow passengers who are in extremis, just like you, and not seeing any official, you will lock your gaze on “Exit” and aim for that.
In the vast halls, all set up with queue-control ropes, you will find you and your fellow travellers, walking up and down the lanes like lab rats. Up, turn, down, turn, up, turn, down. Up and down in a completely deserted place! “Fuck this! Why don’t we just walk straight through?” say I. So we do, laughing with embarrassment, stunned that we have been SO brainwashed we follow the ropes, just because they are there.
We troop to Exit. More stairs, up. More stairs, down. Eventually we find a lift! A LIFT – and it works. Wow.
Escape is possible?
YES! You pass the only person not abducted by aliens. A real single human being under a sign that says “Customs”. He’s twiddling his thumbs because most of us simply walk through the tunnel that says “Nothing to declare”.
Believe me on a Sunday night Manchester Arrivals is a vast, confusing, eerie place. But at least the lights are on!