Besides JFK, Madrid's Barajas is probably the one other airport I know best, especially since I tend to travel to Spain at least twice a year, and always have to transfer via the capital.
I'm not complaining, especially since the architecturally-stunning Barajas is one of my favorite airports in the world, right up there with sleek Hong Kong International.
I can't think of any other place where you can chow down on a decent Spanish tortilla sandwich and shop Zara all under the same roof. But there is one thing I just can't get over about Barajas, its Smoking Zones.
Have you ever seen them? They're basically glass partitioned areas with air holes cut into the sides...of course, smokers need to breathe, too, right?...and get this...no roofs. Because, why kill smokers with their own smoke? Just let the second hand smoke waft outside for all us asthmatic non-smokers to get some.
It's a little crazy, if you ask me. And every time I pass one of these things, especially as I breathe in that wonderful aroma of ambient smoke, I can't help but to wonder: How many packs a day does the politician who lobbied long and hard for the public funds to build these structures smoke himself?
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