The first thing Mateo noticed about Dortmund Airport was how different it felt from the sterile efficiency of Madrid-Barajas.
Where the Spanish airport had been all glass and chrome, impersonal and rushing with the constant urgency of international commerce, Dortmund's terminal radiated a warmth that seemed to seep into his bones from the moment he stepped off the jetbridge.
The lighting was softer, more golden than the harsh fluorescents he had grown accustomed to, and the pace was noticeably more relaxed. Even the busy travelers seemed less frantic, more grounded, as if they understood that life was about more than simply getting from one place to another as quickly as possible.
The architecture itself told a story of a different philosophy. Instead of the soaring glass cathedral of Madrid's terminal, Dortmund's airport felt more human in scale, with warm wood accents and comfortable seating areas that invited lingering rather than hurrying.
