 Love, 
 according to Richard Curtis's sugary hit film Love Actually is 
 to be found everywhere - but the best place is an airport. Specifically, 
 the arrivals hall at Heathrow Terminal 4.
Love, 
 according to Richard Curtis's sugary hit film Love Actually is 
 to be found everywhere - but the best place is an airport. Specifically, 
 the arrivals hall at Heathrow Terminal 4. 
 As Hugh Grant's Prime Minister in the film says: "Whenever 
 I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals 
 gate at Heathrow airport. General opinion is starting to make 
 out that we live in a world of hate and greed but I don't see 
 that. It seems to me that love is everywhere." 
 
 The practicalities of carrying out a long-term relationship based 
 on a meeting in Sock Shop are slender, but only an airport offers 
 the love-hungry traveller the same unique romantic possibilities. 
 "Plus, people are pretty bored in airports, so the standards 
 of what they expect in a conversation are a little lower," 
 Tim, an American hedge fund specialist, says. 
 If in the past the railway station has formed an evocative backdrop 
 to romance, leaves on the line have transformed stations from 
 places of heartache to places of headache. 
 Now, we have the grey walled, low-ceilinged, smoke and bawling 
 children-filled airport, where this week 8,000 people pitched 
 up in the early hours of the morning to greet England's rugby 
 side. 
 But the departures hall is the stuff not just of love, but of 
 high drama, actually. Two customer service agents claimed they 
 have "seen it all" since they began working at Heathrow. 
 
 Hysterical children nipping through Customs trying to retrieve 
 a relative, couples so welded to each other they miss their planes 
 and grown men, "actually, like, crying". 
 "I'm a very soft person," said Mona, one of the women 
 on duty. "And it can be quite depressing. 
 "There are situations where the other half shouldn't even 
 bother to come to the airport. I'm serious. There are people who 
 cannot emotionally cope with goodbyes." 
 Ben Ezra, who works at the Body Shop opposite the departures 
 gate, admits to bursting into tears at the sight of a romantic 
 clinch. Other times she rolls her eyes. 
 "Sometimes it's very sweet to see two people who love each 
 other so much," she says, "Other times it's like somebody 
 has died." But what really gets to Ben Ezra is the behaviour 
 of men. "When we were growing up they taught us that men 
 are strong and don't cry," she says. "Well, five minutes 
 after you start working here you realise that's all wrong. They 
 walk around with this funny face and chin tucked under trying 
 to look business-like. 
 "They stay upset much longer than the women. Women cry for 
 five minutes, then do their make-up and it's all over. Men wander 
 around for hours with their faces collapsed." 
 
 (Agencies)