ZIH: An aviation throwback

Zihuatenejo / Ixtapa International Airport has the feel of the dawn of the jet age: a one-story ground-level terminal (modest control tower attached); a handful of jets taxiing into position and lining up in a straight row; mobile stairways being wheeled into position; passengers marching across the tarmac amid the clatter of baggage trucks and the whine of jet engines.

I don't know where you'll find this scene in the United States anymore. But you will find it at the smart little one-strip airport that serves the twin Mexican resort towns of Zihuatenejo and Ixtapa. I passed through this facility going in and out of the area during the last part of March, 2013 while on a family vacation.

The single sidewalk is for unloading and loading only.

The airport, the region's tourism lifeline, is set just a few miles inland from the Pacific coast, which is lined with spectacular beaches, most undeveloped. Viewed from the air, the landing strip stands out like a black skidmark in an overwhelmingly brown agricultural landscape. (It was the dry season when we visited.)

Once on the ground, our American Airlines MD-80 taxiied to the sole apron, guided in by an ebullient ground crew. I've never seen people so happy to be flagging a jet into position! We then had to wait until a mobile stairway was wheeled into position, a rarity these days.

Thus we had the thrill of experiencing the blamming mid-day heat and blinding sunshine of southern Mexico all at once as we stepped out of the aircraft and into the open air. Somehow this seems more satisfying to me than disembarking through a hermetically sealed jetway, where you might get a hint of the real climate outside before you're delivered into the controlled atmosphere of a terminal.

The terminal's one-level ticketing area boasts a highly polished tiled floor.

Customs and passport control is handled off to one side of the terminal building, and seemed pretty straightforward, but with one game show-like element. After getting your passports stamped, you press a Family Feud-like buttom to randomly determine if customs officials will inspect your baggage. A green light means go ahead; a red light means open your bags and prepare to be questioned.

The layout of things outside the terminal is refreshingly simple: a road looping in front of the building, a parking lot, some coconut trees, and that's about it. Arrivals and departures are all handled at the same curb.

For a large part of the day, shade is a valuable commodity.

I'm not sure what the service patterns are at ZIH. American currently runs only trip per week to the airport, a Saturday-only run out and back from its DFW hub. THe place seemed dead on the Saturday we arrived, but a week later for our departure, the place was hopping, with flights departing mid-day for several domestic Mexican cities as well as international flights such as Frontier to Denver, United to Houston, Delta to Atlanta, and AeroMexico to Chicago and New York.

So it was busy, but never seemed overcrowded. Things are a little disorganized in the waiting area, with not all flights listed and gate assignments changing seemingly on a whim. But the big glass windows looking out on the tarmac really made it all worthwhile. As we boarded, a security guard asked me to put away my camera, so no photos from crossing the tarmac.

Taxiing out, I was again impressed by the upbeat manner of the ground crew. It seemed like a real party out there, with them waving goodbye to us. Wish that kind of enthusiasm could be imported elsewhere!

Boston's Logan Airport, Terminal B: Saved by neon

I remember when Logan Airport's Terminal B, originally the "South Terminal," opened in 1978. I was 14, and fascinated by the gradual replacement of the old U-shaped ground-level concourse with a brand new complex. I was too young to realize how dull it all was -- the low ceilings, the narrow corridors, the complete lack of imagination. It was all concrete and compromises, typical of a lot of structures built during the energy crisis of the 1970s.

American Airlines and the old Allegheny Airlines (now U.S. Airways) were the main tenants, one airline on each side, and in a rare display of continuity, they're still in the same spaces nearly 35 years later. And to their credit, over the years they've both made efforts to retrofit their gate concourses with a few improvements to lend them at least some distinction.

But alas, there's not that can be done with the cramped Terminal B check-in spaces, which I was reminded of on Wednesday, Feb. 15, when my wife and I and a friend flew American out of Boston to London Heathrow. Designed for the rarefied pre-deregulation era of travel (when American was the "businessman's airline"), the ticket counter area is simply not equipped to handle the much greater volume of passengers now flying. Check out this scene from the late afternoon, which wasn't even rush hour.


With its low ceilings, snaking lines, heavy concrete pillars, in-your-face noise level, and complete lack of natural lighting, the place is a claustrophobic's nightmare. The only possible benefit of this situation is that it will at least reveal if a passenger has problems with confined spaces before he or she boards an airplane.

And security is no picnic, either. While Logan's Terminal C has undergone a recent reboot to create one effective and centralized security point for all gates, no such luck at Terminal B, with its concourses extending from opposite sides of a five-level parking garage. So at American, they've made do with just cramming it all into a narrow hallway leading to the gates, still with the low ceilings.

And it's all just a little tense, I think, because one of the planes that struck the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001 departed from this very concourse. (It's Gate B32, marked only with an American flag.) There's nothing anyone can do about that, but it's worth noting, I think.

But just past security, things improve quite a bit. While nothing much can be done with the ticket counter area, the gate area is another story. American has succeeded in turning what was originally another uninspired space (a low-ceilinged extension of the check-in area) into a zippy place that makes an effort to create some excitement.

Check it out: The first thing you see is a gate area backed up by an oversized window framing the American tarmac and all the activity on the field beyond. Wonder of wonders, the panes are vertical, as they should be, rather than the soul-crushing view-blocking horizontal banding that's afflicted so many modern structures.


And here's a nifty detail. At certain times of the day (such as dusk, when we were there), the window also carries the reflection of a neon American Airlines logo, as if it's floating in the air beyond the glass. Huh? Here's the best photo I could get of this...


What's this all about? Well, turn around, and you'll see up above you is an oversized rendering of the old AA logo in hot neon -- a vibrant and wonderful celebration of the airline's long presence in Beantown. In a clever stroke, it announces that American is an airline with history, folks, but at the same time also electrifies the space. I love it.


And that's not all. Look down, and you'll see a floor done in wonderful swooping patterns that provide a classy maroon accent to all the button-down blue and gray.


Alas, they can't leave well enough alone. Whose decision was it to destroy the floor with this cheap commercial add-on? Get rid of it, and fast!


A modest food court is positioned just before the concourse curves out onto the field...


...at which I notice the arrivals/departures are shown on displays mounted sideways, of all things -- something I never noticed until now, but which I'm seeing quite often, actually.


The concourse itself is modest but handsome, with a small barrel vault roof...


...but the big surprise is the pod at the end, which boasts an impressive high ceiling, great views all around through huge windows, and yet another oversized AA logo in neon.

Both this one and the other are highly visible from planes taxiing around the runway, giving traveler the impression that American is a big player in Boston, even though Jet Blue next door is eating its lunch.