Also, when you land on planet earth, at least if earth includes Amsterdam, Dubai, and Delhi, you always find that the path to the your next gate or baggage claim takes you through a manicured forests of liqueur bottles.
If, indeed, you did land from Mars you would think the thing human beings most treasure upon arrival is an unopened scotch in prim gleamy boxes.
What is the psychology of this?
Is there anyway to measure the falsness of this environment? Or of the airport at large.
(From Delhli to Sikkim today.)