The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, the second of Douglas Adams’s Dirk Gently novels, begins with the remark that no human language has the idiom “As lovely as an airport,” followed by side-splittingly grim catalogue of all the reasons airports are hideous.
I suspect that Mr. Adams never flew into Bozeman, Montana. The airport there, built mostly out of local pine, looks rather like a fairly nice hunting lodge that happens to have airplanes taking off and landing near it. I had always thought that ugliness was a functional necessity in airport design. Perhaps not.