I had grand plans to write an ode to the psychedelic joys of the Hamad International Airport in Doha, but guys -- reliable WiFi is a serious problem. I'm currently in Harare, Zimbabwe squatting almost on top of the router at a local guesthouse. The Internet keeps cutting in and out, and a guy from Malawi sitting nearby is in the middle of a long monologue on the perils of being interrogated by incompetent border officials while passing through various African nations.
So I'll keep this short.
No American airport I've ever seen comes even close to the capitalist fever dream that is the airport in Doha. I really think you could buy pretty much anything your travel-weary soul could desire here -- designer shades, caviar, fancy abayas, apology jewelry. Around 3 am. when I was boarding the plane for Cape Town, almost all the stores were still open for business.
But the best feature of this labyrinth, no contest, were the quiet rooms.
These were spaces full of leather lounge chairs that could function as makeshift beds for a quick snooze or, as the woman in the picture below ingeniously demonstrated, as a crawlspace for a more serious hibernation (That lady really was underneath her chair for a long time. I almost poked her to make sure she was okay).
The airport provides both co-ed rooms and separate ones for men and women, with the female rooms obscured by frosted glass. It is the best airport invention possibly of all time. The only improvement would be to darken the rooms, to hide all the drooling and snoring.