Following up from last week’s random Fredericton details
In the carpark, unauthorised vehicles aren’t simply “unauthorised vehicles”, but “parking poachers”. I’ve never heard that term “parking poacher” before, but if I did I would’ve assumed it referred to the driver (ie, the person who poached the spot; like a wildlife poacher) and not the car itself, but the sign’s clear: it’s the poacher (ie the car) they tow.
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Fredericton’s airport is an odd little place. I didn’t mention it earlier, when I first arrived, because I wanted to experience both the arrival and departures sides of YFC before weighing in.
Airports are under-appreciated places. At least, my geeky interest in all things transport and architecture – and therefore, airports – makes me think so. After all, airports should be places of drama: they often signal both the start and the finish of vacations, jobs, phases of life; the sites of happy reunions and tearful farewells. BML once told me
I love writing at airports, because being at an airport usually means I’m leaving something meaningful behind – a lifestyle, a place, people – and going into something new, and challenging, or going “back” to something familiar
What’s more, they also make both the first impressions and the last looks of the community, city or country they serve – and making those impressions and looks is part of that service, over and above the “utilitarian” role as a place for sub-sonic CO2-bellowing metal cylinders to pick-up and drop-off people and cargo. I always looked forward to Vancouver’s towering totems, glass and carvings
or Prince George’s exposed wood beams and stone floors
or Ottawa’s waterfalls and locks
Yellowknife, Norman Wells and Ulukhaktok are no-nonsense, no-frills structures that, in their very no-nonsense-ness and no-frills-ness, exude something of stark Arctic character
though Inuvik does concede a little to the sightseeing tourist
Of course, normal people don’t think the same way. There was a time where airports were about romantic things like connecting people, bridging continents, the marvels of technology. And in an expansive country like Canada, dependent on air travel, it’s nation building, a part of our culture. But nowadays, Heritage Canada points out, “the aims of Canadian airport management have shifted away from the ‘cultural institution’ model, to much more pragmatic imperatives like revenue generation and efficiency”.
So with the upcoming demolition of Winnipeg’s iconic 1964 modernist terminal (it’s on Heritage Canada’s Top Ten Endangered Places List of historic sites), it’s no surprise there’s no love or fuss from Winnipeggers at large. A local radio news director reported
Airports are only way stations, a spot to land and takeoff, nothing more. Efficiency in getting you and getting you out is what airports are remembered for, not the architecture or the heritage aspects. Won’t be many tears shed here when Winnipeg’s comes tumbling down.
Anyway, Fredericton’s airport. I think it’s an odd place, because it doesn’t fit into either the old “cultural institution” or “pragmatic efficiency” models of Canadian airports. It doesn’t have much in the way of public art or landmark architecture befitting the triumph of science and industry that is air travel: one abstract metal piece on the front façade, backgrounded with a mosaic of beige tile and framed with the windows of the control tower
And not much in the way of first impressions: you deplane out onto the tarmac, greeted by a “Fredericton” in some blocky serifed font that looks very ’70s to me, but I can’t say for sure when it’s from. That’s it, no art on the airside of the tower
And when you enter the terminal: blah, you could be anywhere. Just a baggage carousel, some backlit ads, and around the corner a few car rental kiosks. No sense of identity of the city before you, the Fathers and Mothers of Confederation whose footsteps you’re about to follow, the beauty of the Saint John river (the “Rhine of North America”, because river cruising is so popular) nearby… when you arrive you should come with something in mind to look forward to, because this airport’s not giving you anything to work with.
So hopefully while you’re actually in Fredericton you get to experience what the town’s all about. And hopefully you took lots of pictures and have lots of memories, because when you check-in at the airport to go home, there’s nothing much on this side of the terminal either.
This is where “pragmatic efficiency” could be the airport’s saving grace – but alas, you have some weird system where you first queue up to check in at the desks (no self-check computer terminals, you actually have to do this in person)
and then once you’ve waited for your boarding passes and baggage tags, you lug them over to the cargo X-ray and loading area. Yes, you have to take it yourself – all the extra work you have to do when there’s self-check computer terminals, but without the speed and convenience benefit of having self-check computer terminals. More waiting lined up behind the big “Welcome / Bienvenue YFC” sign
No restaurant, but there is a charity snack shop – proceeds to the Canadian National Institute for the Blind. And the lounge does have free wireless like the rest of the city, so I guess that’s one thing distinctively “Fredericton” about the terminal
The airside departure lounge and gates look like they were recently renovated. There’s some small canvasses on the walls, and sculptures and vases on podiums, and an historical display case in the corner
You’re hermetically sealed from the un-screened hoi poilloi behind floor-to-ceiling glass, but you can at least still wave ‘bye to well-wishers on the other side
until it’s time to go: no skywalks or bridges to the planes on this side either, you just find your “gate” (ie a glass door with a number on it) and walk through to the tarmac outside
Everyone pays an airport improvement fee on each flight in and out, so maybe there’ll be some improvements in future. $15 a pop, so I guess I’ve put in $30 in the pot so far, before I’ve even moved in – hopefully I might get to live here long enough and see my thirty dollars worth!
