As I walked through the long and seemingly endless corridor at Nairobi airport recently, that very same feeling of being enclosed and worn out swathed me. It is a feeling I associate with this airport, or perhaps with such airports. Something about the white tube lights, dodging other passengers as you walk, passing a boarding queue every now and then which further squashes the corridor, and the row of shops lining all the spaces between the gates, adding to the chaos of clutter that is this airport. Mumbai airport used to afford the same response, but the transformation it has undergone a few years ago has made it far more desirable. Everything, from the floor and the chairs to the static shops and the bathrooms bear a sense of the outdated. Looking around, however, while I walked as fast as the intermittent crowds would allow me, I realised that the insipid feeling that infiltrates the traveller passing through this airport boils down to the clinical white lighting. It reminded me of Mumbai airport years ago, whose dire state, lighting, lack of anything nice or comfortable would make me want to exit as quickly as I possibly could; now, of course, with its restaurants, walk-in foot and back massages and most importantly better lighting, this airport tempts passengers to arrive even earlier for their flight. Nairobi\'s Jomo Kenyatta airport, on the other hand, hasn\'t changed a thing, at least nothing that I can see. But it has one favourable asset — Java café. Anyone who knows or has heard about this café, knows it is a hive of activity and food which sits right at the very end of the corridor. Passengers immediately flock there upon arrival or in transit. So I also went, and on seeing Java, I sighed, mostly due to the yellow flavour of the light here, which welcomed me even before of the aroma of coffee and Mexican food. This ever-busy café has always had a fantastic, if a little oven-like, buzz about it — in fact, I had to wait a good ten minutes before I could get a table. Sitting and eating here does not make you feel any more fresh, or less like a traveller, but Edwin, our waiter, had the kind of smile and optimism, even at an hour close to midnight on a Saturday, that was infectious. Sometimes, I realised then, airline staff can exasperate you so much that it can ruin your mood for the rest of the journey, and sometimes, a jolly guy such as this can make an airport that is otherwise depressing a happier place. Yes, we shouldn\'t be so affected by others, especially when a moody stranger has the ability to aggravate, but coming across someone who is super-nice is a breath of fresh air. When he brought my Malindi coffee, a latte infused with a syrup of spices, he waited for my approval on tasting the blend. \"It\'s good, thank you,\" I told him, at which he grinned and left the table. I guess I had carried into Java a mood that was rather in line with the airport, and I left unexpectedly uplifted. The food? Well, the Mexican cuisine, refried black beans, rice, salsa, and the coffee wasn\'t all bad. Definitely surpassed my expectations (but then, I did not expect much). And when I politely asked Edwin to heat up the dish again, he immediately took it and brought it back a quick five minutes later. For a busy café with customers moving in and out, some on their laptops, others having a drink at the bar, passengers sharing tables with strangers, Java had maintained a good level of service. An hour later, after finishing the piping hot vegetarian dish and having charged my phone, my flight was announced. And so, saying goodbye to Edwin, I walked through the dreary corridor once again right to the other end, wondering why on Earth they had not bothered changing a thing in so many years - starting with the awful lighting, of course. Well, for now, I was just glad I wasn\'t in transit for too long.