But, sure enough, there does appear to be a transit station beyond the ramp, far off in the distance. I mean way, way off in the distance. And did I mention that it is really cold and wet and windy? That I’m dressed for waiting around inside airports and not for circumnavigating them?
I feel like a jerk, griping in my mind (and muttering aloud to myself like a crazy lady) about who would be stupid enough to locate the transit station that serves the airport so far from the airport? I mean, shouldn’t I be grateful that there is finally a decent transit option at all? But then I wonder, if I were with my dad, could we get a wheelchair assist all the way to train?
I am freezing and crabby when I finally reach the station and start searching for the ticket machines (there are only two, so don’t arrive during a busy time), still fuming over the incompetence and idiocy of our auto-centric culture.