The Sao Paolo airport

One of the more favorable offshoots of globalized consumerism is the epidemic of the airport mall and food court. Anyone who has ever gone cross-eyed with boredom in a departure lounge during a prolonged layover can at least appreciate how quickly time can pass experimenting with back massagers at Brookstone, sampling eye shadows at the Body Shop or debating the pros and cons of drinking a peppermint latte versus a beer.

During an inadvertently lengthy visit to the Sao Paolo airport — a graying complex whose age is betrayed by the analog clocks that hang down from the ceiling at odd angles — I struggled with my sanity having nearly nothing to spend, very little to eat and nothing to do for 36 hours. Though the Sao Paolo airport is a mere hop, skip and jump away from the stunning beaches, raging nightlife and glorious architecture of Sao Paolo and the nearby coast, it has yet to embrace the age of airport renovation that has turned many of the world's dreary netherworlds of transit into playlands for listless travelers. This, unfortunately, reflects badly upon Sao Paolo and Brazil, and might give some travelers reason to avoid the country altogether.

Most people who willingly get on large airplanes and fly more than eight hours to another hemisphere wisely read up on the destination country and its customs before embarking, but those of us too-cool jet-setters who fly many times a year avoid the tedious reading of guidebooks or brushing up on diplomatic niceties. And with an invaluable American passport, we also have the luxury of knowing that we are welcome in nearly all corners of the earth, no questions asked.

But Brazil has allied itself with other incorrigible ones, including China and Ukraine, in deciding to exact a sweet form of revenge on the United States and all of its consular bullshit.

Brazil has successfully waged a war against the US and Canada's immigration policies by requiring a visa and charging a "reciprocal fee" of $100, the same amount the United States charges Brazilians who want to come for a visit.

Because I live in Mexico and the Mexican authorities are not known for their prescience, no kindly Mexico City airport official tipped me off to the frosty welcome I would be receiving in Sao Paolo when I arrived there without a visa last month for a day-and-a-half layover en route to Colombia and Ecuador.

After a swift round of fruitless negotiations where I demanded that the airline send me to another country like Peru or Bolivia where I would not be kept prisoner for my nationality, I was left alone to confront my fate: 36 hours stretching away into infinity between me and my flight to Bogot‡, all of them to be spent in the international terminal of the Sao Paolo airport.

For those who have the displeasure of spending as much time as I did in the Sao Paolo airport, the following should serve as a brief primer to the airport's pitfalls and highlights.

Orientation

The international terminal in fact consists of two terminals, connected by a long corridor whose distance for the traveler is shortened by two motion-activated moving walkways — one the airport's great technological highlights. (Note: the escalators are also motion-activated, a feature that should hearten any energy-conscious environmentalist who passes through.)

The majority of flights to and from other destinations in Latin America depart and arrive in what we will call the A section of the international terminal. Flights to and from Europe and North America depart and arrive in B.

Because the prospect of sitting around and staring at the airline employees who had so heartlessly delivered the bad news of my extended layover, or rather the prospect of them smirking at me — the idiotic American — for hours on end was not appealing, I quickly made tracks to B with high hopes.

The Members-Only Lounges — A No-No

Those who go between the two sections will pass several business class lounges, some with large windows exhibiting plush leather seating and pert waitresses serving unlimited highballs to the elite of the travel world. The 36-hour layover might imply special treatment for part of those 36 hours, and maybe even entrance to a members-only lounge, but don't expect this at the Sao Paolo airport, where even teary, 25-year-old women cannot get in.

The choices for spending the 36 hours are then swiftly narrowed: either A or B will have to do, or perhaps a combination of both.

Money

The unfortunate reality of both sections A and B is that neither has a cash machine. If you happen to be short on cash like I was (carrying only 20 Mexican pesos — less than $2), this presents a major problem if you plan on eating or drinking away your airport-bound misery.

There are currency-exchanging kiosks in both sections, but they only change money from certain countries (Colombia, even though it shares a border with Brazil, doesn't not have a worthy enough peso, as I learned on the way back). My 20 Mexican pesos got me about 2.3 reals, the Brazilian currency — not even enough to buy a cup of coffee.

Food, Drink and Shopping

So what are dining and beverage options, with or without reals? Without a major renovation in the last decade, the Sao Paolo airport had sadly not joined the eatery revolution. It is so behind that it hasn't even joined the bar revolution. Let me rephrase: This airport does not have a bar.

What the airport does have are two small cafes in B and a sandwich shop and two snack kiosks in A. If you're lucky, the credit card machines at the two cafes in B might be working. In my case, they did not start working until 10 p.m., 15 hours into my 36-hour-stay.

The cafes serve some fairly tasty hearts-of-palm empanadas and coconut sorbet, as well as some dismal sandwiches, juice (in some intriguing flavors like lychee), coffee, candy and, thank god, beer. You will need cash if you expect to eat at the sandwich shop in A. I only was able to drool from afar over the tuna fish sandwiches with tomato and cheese prepared on fresh baguettes.

There are an inordinate amount of duty free shops in the Sao Paolo airport, and they contain a surprising array of items, some of them edible. While neither eating nor drinking seems to be of high priority to Brazilian travelers, buying over-packaged nut candies, sunglasses, flip-flops and clothes from the Gap and Banana Republic does. As I was unable to use my debit card at the cafe, nut candies and nuts in copious amounts emerged as my only option for sustenance. At first I was joyous to discover that a version of a bonbon called Surreal was available in Brazil in peanut butter and chocolate — a combination to which the Mexicans seem to have a major aversion. But after eating more than seven of these golfball-sized bonbons by 1 p.m., accompanied by a small tin of cheese-flavored cashews (not bad), I began to get quite nutted out. And the heart-of-palm empanada was still a long nine hours away.

Sleeping Arrangements

After purchasing my nutty treats with my debit card, I sat down on what I had determined to be my only potential bed for the evening — a chain of soft old leather seats miraculously unencumbered by armrests.

Other travelers looking for this highly coveted couch will have to walk all the way to the end of B and look to the left to find it. They are encouraged to begin making use of it immediately to avoid it being stolen by other travelers in need of sleep. Backpacks and purses can, in a pinch, serve as decent pillows, but travelers will probably sleep better with an arm or an ankle hooked around one or two straps to ward off thieves.

In between naps, travelers are advised to keep away from the TV screens bleeping the arrival and departure information for flights other than their own. It can get particularly ugly if say a flight for the traveler's hometown appears on the screen (in my case Washington, D.C.) as visions of a meal home-cooked by Mom, a freshly made bed and an adoring dog will soon become unbearable, possibly driving the traveler to a nervous breakdown.

Another thing to keep in mind about the quasi couch is that if you try to sleep on it overnight, you'll be in for a rude surprise. By 12:30 a.m., after some empanadas and several beers, I was ready to snuggle up on my couch for the night in the empty end of B. But just as I was drifting off, I heard someone calling to me. It was an airport official who, after noting my blank stare as he jabbered in Portuguese, began insisting to me in Spanish that I had to move, that they would be closing off this section. Why I didn't kick the man in the shins or try to bribe him with my 2.3 reals, I don't know, but in any case I had to find another place to sleep.

In the next section, also empty, I looked around desperately, seeing only a sea of armrests that screamed insomnia. Fortunately, I was able to tear off the seat cushions (remember we are in an ancient airport) and line them on the floor to form a makeshift mattress. Other travelers in this situation are advised to use their darkest piece of outerwear as a light shield. In my case, I covered my head with my jean jacket, which worked reasonably well in creating a little cocoon so that I could forget where I was for a few hours. Unfortunately, the night security patrol in the Sao Paolo airport are an unruly, inconsiderate bunch who insist in shouting at each other (in Portuguese, of course) even when it is clear that people are trying to sleep on the floor.

Socializing

The social scene in the Sao Paolo airport is not great, even for a blonde woman with a distinctively lonely look on her face. Portuguese, of course, is the language of choice, and while Spanish speakers might assume all Brazilians speak Spanish too, they can think again. English is the second official language of the airport, not Spanish. Spanish speakers will be glad to learn, however, that commonalities between Spanish and Portuguese will permit some basic conversations to take place with Brazilians in the two languages.

Tom Hanks, whose character Viktor Navorski was help captive in a US airport for months in the 2004 film The Terminal, had it far better than me in terms of mastering the social scene in the airport. I never met a hunky flight attendant to dine with; nor was I able to lure a single one of the bronzed Brazilian men who seemed to be coming straight from the beach to entertain me for any of my 36 hours. This might be related to the fact that there was no bar. The only acquaintance I did make was a woman who cleaned the bathroom, who saw me fill up my water bottle more than seven times and then kindly saved it for me during one trip when I left it behind.

Internet Access and Telephones

There is wireless Internet access in the Sao Paolo airport, but you must have an address in Brazil to sign up for a day pass to the service. There is no way around this. Trust me.

Don't bother trying to call your home country either. The telephones are encrypted for special phone cardholders and don't care if you have a Visa or MasterCard.

Reading Material

As backward as the Sao Paolo airport might sound, there is one redeeming feature. A magazine stand in B has an excellent selection as well as several chairs very nearby where it is easy to blend in with travelers about to get on a plane and avoid being scoped out as a browser who has no intention of buying. I read near complete issues of the New Yorker, National Geographic Traveler, the Economist and W at the stand without paying for a single one.

Brazil: A Commendable Country?

The final highlight of the Sao Paolo airport is leaving the Sao Paolo airport and considering whether you will ever bother coming to Brazil again. One thing to keep in mind is that the United States has completely abolished its transit-without-visa program, which means if you are a noncitizen, you cannot have a layover in the United States without a visa. The Brazilians, however, seem to have something of a soft spot because Americans are still allowed to be "in transit" in Brazil without visas, as long as they hold departure tickets and do not leave the transit area of the airport.

The tourist videos I watched in the airport made Brazil seem pretty cool. As a final note, travelers are recommended to visit the country and sample its nut candies, but are advised to secure the appropriate documentation beforehand.

— Eliza Barclay (elizabarclay@gmail.com)

— graphic by Derek Evernden (derek@ocellus.net)