I have flown more than two million miles.
That’s an objectively stupid amount of time inside airplanes.
I’ve crossed oceans more times than I can remember, slept in airport lounges, sprinted through terminals, experienced some spectacular business-class products and endured economy seats apparently designed around the skeletal dimensions of a malnourished 12-year-old.
And after all those miles, I’ve reached an unavoidable conclusion: Modern air travel kind of fucking sucks.
Sure, airplanes are safer, faster and technologically incredible. But somewhere along the way, we systematically removed almost every ounce of romance from flying and replaced it with boarding groups, security lines, overcrowded lounges, $14 sandwiches and increasingly creative baggage fees.
Then there’s the TWA Hotel at JFK Airport.
Walk through those doors and suddenly you’re reminded there was once a time when humanity looked at aviation and thought:
Holy shit. This is the future.
Not: Group 7 may now board after we gate check your bag, bitch.
DESTINATION: TWA Hotel at JFK Airport
GPS COORDINATES
40.6458, -73.7780
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WELCOME BACK TO WHEN AIR TRAVEL WAS COOL
The TWA Hotel occupies the former TWA Flight Center, designed by Eero Saarinen and opened in 1962.
More than sixty years later, the building still looks futuristic, which should probably concern everyone designing airports today.
It’s all sweeping concrete curves, enormous windows, bright red carpeting and tunnels that look like they should lead directly onto a Pan Am flight to the Moon.
This was the Jet Age, when aviation represented possibility.
Airports weren’t merely places where you bought overpriced water and removed your shoes. They were monuments to where humanity thought it was headed next.
Florida even started building the enormous Everglades Jetport, based partly around an ambitious supersonic future that never actually showed up.
The TWA Flight Center came from that same beautifully optimistic era.
Except this one actually fucking worked.
TWO MILLION MILES LATER, I WANT THIS SHIT BACK
Yes, nostalgia conveniently forgets some things.
Tickets were expensive. People smoked on airplanes. Safety has improved enormously. And the romantic version of the Golden Age has been polished by decades of airline advertising.
But goddamn, they understood theater.
Flying was an event.
Airlines competed on service. Airports were designed to make you excited about going somewhere. Even the airplanes had personality.
Today I can identify an airport terminal primarily by which combination of gray carpet, stainless steel and Hudson News it installed.
Walk into the TWA Hotel and suddenly there’s color.
Vintage departure boards. Old TWA advertisements. Historic flight attendant uniforms. Mid-century furniture. Period signage. Aviation memorabilia everywhere.
And instead of some airport television screaming cable news at you while you inhale a $19 cheeseburger, there’s a giant sunken lounge beneath Saarinen’s incredible terminal architecture.
I fucking love this place.
TWA DIED. THANKFULLY, THE TERMINAL DIDN’T.
Trans World Airlines was once one of America’s great international carriers.
Then aviation changed. Aircraft got bigger. Airports expanded. Airlines consolidated.
TWA disappeared into American Airlines in 2001, leaving its magnificent JFK terminal behind.
Thankfully, somebody eventually looked at it and decided: Maybe we shouldn’t destroy this incredibly badass thing.
Excellent decision.
The terminal reopened as the TWA Hotel in 2019, preserving Saarinen’s architecture while turning the surrounding complex into an aviation-themed hotel.
And they didn’t half-ass it.
THEY PARKED A FUCKING LOCKHEED CONSTELLATION OUTSIDE
This alone should tell you everything.
Sitting outside is a restored Lockheed Constellation, one of those airplanes from an era when engineers apparently weren’t satisfied with making something fly.
It also had to look sexy as hell doing it.
Four enormous radial engines. Triple-tail design. Curved fuselage.
Naturally, the TWA Hotel turned it into a cocktail lounge.
You can climb aboard, grab a drink and sit inside an aircraft that once represented the absolute pinnacle of long-distance commercial aviation.
Compare that with modern airport drinking, where you’re usually sitting beside Gate B37 paying $28 for a vodka soda because your flight has been delayed three hours.
Progress.
THE ROOFTOP POOL IS BASICALLY AVGeek PORN
Then there’s the rooftop pool overlooking JFK’s runways.
For normal people, this means relaxing in warm water while airplanes occasionally fly past.
For aviation geeks, this means becoming completely useless for several hours.
JFK gets an incredible variety of international traffic, so you’re sitting there watching aircraft from around the world taxi, land and depart.
B747?
Everything stops.
A380?
I’m watching.
Some obscure international carrier operating an aircraft I haven’t photographed before?
GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY.
It’s basically plane spotting with cocktails and significantly less dignity.
EVEN THE HOTEL ROOMS UNDERSTooD THE ASSIGNMENT
If you’ve got an overnight connection, you can actually stay here.
The rooms continue the mid-century theme without turning the place into some cheesy 1960s theme park. They’re minimalist, aviation-focused and have enormous windows overlooking either the historic terminal or airport operations.
And then there are the period-accurate rotary phones.
Actual rotary phones.
I saw one and immediately had the same completely reasonable thought: I’ve always wanted to watch a millennial try to use a rotary phone.
Just stand quietly in the corner while they poke the numbered holes wondering why absolutely nothing is happening.
“Wait… how do I press call?”
You don’t.
Welcome to 1962, motherfucker.
The hotel also offers day rooms, which are perfect during long connections when another four hours sitting inside JFK would constitute psychological warfare.
Shower. Nap. Watch airplanes. Confuse yourself with obsolete telecommunications technology.
Suddenly your shitty layover is part of the trip.
YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TO STAY HERE
And this is the important part:
You absolutely do not need to book a room to visit the TWA Hotel.
If you’ve got several hours between flights at JFK, go see it.
Take the AirTrain toward Terminal 5, follow the signs and wander around. You can easily burn a couple hours exploring the architecture, exhibits and aviation memorabilia.
Just remember that leaving the secure area means eventually going back through JFK security.
Missing your international flight because you were drinking cocktails inside a Lockheed Constellation would make an excellent Destinations Unknown story.
It would also be fucking stupid.
THIS IS WHAT AIRPORT LAYOVERS SHOULD BE
I’ve spent an unreasonable percentage of my life in airports.
Most layovers are something to survive. Find a lounge. Charge your phone. Eat something questionable. Wander through duty free despite having absolutely no intention of buying a $160 bottle of whiskey.
The TWA Hotel is different.
For once, the airport itself becomes the destination.
It isn’t simply preserving an old terminal. It’s preserving an attitude toward aviation we’ve mostly lost.
The idea that flying should feel exciting.
That airports can be beautiful.
That airplanes can inspire people.
That traveling somewhere should occasionally involve something more memorable than scanning a QR code and arguing with an airline app.
IF YOU HAVE A FEW HOURS AT JFK, FUCKING GO
There are plenty of attractions where I’ll happily tell you to take one picture and move the fuck along.
The TWA Hotel isn’t one of them.
If you’re passing through JFK with a few hours to kill, go.
If you’re an architecture nerd, go.
If you love mid-century design, go.
If you’re an aviation geek, you probably stopped reading several paragraphs ago and started checking your next JFK connection.
After more than two million miles in the air, I’ve watched aviation become safer, faster and technologically astonishing.
I’ve also watched much of the actual experience become increasingly sterile, transactional and boring.
The TWA Hotel is a reminder of something we’ve forgotten:
Flying used to make people dream about the future.
Today it mostly makes us dream about an empty middle seat.
For a couple hours at JFK, though, you can walk through Saarinen’s ridiculous red-carpeted masterpiece, drink aboard a Lockheed Constellation and pretend air travel is glamorous again.
Then head back to your actual flight, board in Group 6 and pay $8 for Wi-Fi.
Welcome back to the future.
