Plane rides can sometimes be scary.  We don’t want to make the ride even scarier by taking off or landing at an airport where your odds of crashing are dramatically higher.

Thanks to a new list from SmarterTravel, we can now avoid the World’s Scariest Airports:

#1.   Barra Airport – Barra, Scotland
The runways at this island airport are on the beach… which means planes can only land during low tide when the runway isn’t covered by water.

#2.   Gibraltar Airport – Gibraltar
This one might be scarier for drivers on the road than pilots.  That’s because the city’s main avenue literally runs right through the airport’s runway.  Traffic officials have to temporarily close down the street each time an airplane takes off or lands.

#3.   Toncontín International Airport – Tegucigalpa, Honduras
Planes coming in for a landing at this airport have to fight through high winds and bank 45-degrees around a mountain in order to quickly line up with the runway.

#4.   Nantucket Memorial Airport, Nantucket, Massachusetts
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who couldn’t see the runway but said “f*ck it”
The fog was insane
But he had to land the plane
So he used only the instruments and lucked it

#5.   Paro Airport – Paro, Bhutan
This airport is tucked at the bottom of a valley in the Himalaya Mountains, meaning pilots have to twist through the mountains and make a sudden, last second turn to hit the runway.

#6.   Yeager Airport – Charleston, West Virginia
You better hope the pilot doesn’t overshoot this runway, because if he does, the plane falls over a cliff.

#7.   La Aurora International Airport – Guatemala City, Guatemala
To get to this airport, pilots must weave through mountains… and pass an active volcano.

#8.   LaGuardia Airport – New York City, New York
This is a double whammy.  Pilots have to make sure not to collide with other planes crowding the skies over nearby JFK and Newark airports, they also have to land on a runway that extends over water.

#9.   Wellington International Airport – Wellington, New Zealand
The winds are so strong coming into this airport that approaching planes wobble and often land at an angle.

#10. John Wayne Airport – Santa Ana, California
Locals complained so much about the loud noise coming from this Orange County airport — what did they expect, commercial flights on stealth jets? — that a noise ordinance was established requiring pilots to cut the throttle after a sharp ascent over Newport Beach homes.  Ah, yes, let’s endanger everyone so we don’t disturb the housewives tanning themselves on their balcony.

Which of these airports terrifies you the most?

Are people getting less interactive as technology gets better?

We break-up with significant others via text message instead of having the courtesy to do it in person.  We skip office parties to catch up on movies in our Netflix queue.  And now we use self-boarding airplane tickets instead of handing them to the gate attendant.  Why?

Because according to aviation analyst Michael Boyd, “Any reduction in human contact between employee and customer is good these days.”

So for the first time in the U.S., self-boarding turnstiles are being introduced.

At George Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston, Continental Airlines has installed a turnstile similar to the one you see on subways.

You simply scan your boarding pass to open the turnstile’s arm and board the plane.  No more inconvenience of having to interact with a nice person who welcomes you and tells you to have a nice flight.

While self-boarding turnstiles have actually been used at some international airports for years, the one in Houston is just a test to see if self-boarding could catch on in the U.S.  (Something tells me it will.)

What I want to know is: will passengers be able to board whenever they want?  That would alleviate the problem of feeling inferior as we all stand around in a huddled mass watching the first class people board.

Then after that we wait around while they call out boarding group letters, and you’re stuck in group double-Z, watching helplessly as the plane fills up and the overhead bin space disappears.

If this new self-boarding pass means I can board the plane whenever I want, I’m jumping on as soon as the doors open so I can carve a nice butt groove into the seat before I fall asleep.

*Our journey in Germany lasted from December 21st to January 1st, but we weren’t going to shell out a ridiculous €25 a day for the internet. Now that we’re back home, we’ll be posting the day-by-day blogs that we wrote on the road.

Our flight from LAX to London was scheduled for 8:35 p.m. and we got to the airport more than three hours early, excited that the British Airways strike had been adverted and our trip was actually going forth as planned.  For a few days, we were two of the 1 million people who were stuck in limbo as the BA workforce planed to strike during the holidays.

But when we checked the flight board, our hearts sank just a little bit. It was just after 5 p.m. and our flight had been delayed more than 4 hours, to 12:45 a.m.

Before I could filter my reaction, I immediately verbalized my frustration with a protracted

“Shhhhhhhiii –”

And just before I was about to punctuate my curse with an emphatic “t”, a group of kids looked up at me, forcing me to revert to the PG-rated “oot” to finish it off.

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

To add insult to injury, there was another flight leaving for London at 6:10, and everyone in front of us was impatiently waiting to get on that flight.

Since we got to the airport so early, we were the first people in line for the later flight.  I jokingly said to Jackie, “Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could get on that 6:10 flight?”

6:25 rolls around and the last passenger on the earlier flight checks-in and sprints for the gate. Then it was our turn to check-in for a flight that wasn’t leaving for more than 6 hours.

We went through the usual motions of weighing our bags and scanning our passports.  Then the lady noticed that we were going to miss our connection to Frankfurt because our flight was delayed.  She excused herself and suddenly there was a glimmer of hope.

When she came back to the counter she said, “We’re putting you on the flight leaving right now.”

It was like Publisher’s Clearing House appeared with an over-sized check. Those awards for punctuality mean nothing in high school, but in real life being on time breeds rewards.

Our four-hour delay suddenly turned into a two-and-a-half hour head start.

We rushed through security and jogged through the terminal.  Of course, our gate had to be the very last one.  Sweating and heaving, we got onto the plane where the stewardess led us to our seat.

As if things couldn’t get any better, we got the bulkhead seats. Not only did we leave early, we had better seats!

I hope we’re not using our allotment of luck this early in our travel careers because this was the second time the airline gods smiled upon us. Last year, we were scheduled to fly from Budapest to Munich to Washington D.C. to L.A.  But when we got to Munich, Jackie noticed there was a flight direct to L.A. departing at the same time as the one to D.C., so she asked if we could take that flight instead.  And Lufthansa made it happen.

The extra leg room on our flight to London must have helped me get to sleep easier because we were at Heathrow in no time. Originally we were only going to have an hour in between flights, but arriving early afforded us the opportunity to sit down and enjoy the deliciousness that is Wagamama.

Wagamama is a restaurant chain that serves Asian fusion fare like Japanese-style noodles in Thai sauces. I had the amai udon, which is teppan-fried udon noodles with shrimp in a tamarind sauce, and Jackie had the chicken curry katsu, a fried chicken breast covered in a creamy curry sauce.

This restaurant is already phenomenal, but we were so hungry by that point that it tasted otherworldly. Challenge of the day: take a look at this menu and try not to salivate all over your keyboard.

After a hearty meal, we were ready for our next flight to Frankfurt where we could hit the sack at a reasonable time and refresh for tomorrow.

But then we saw these worrisome words when we checked the flight board: “Inquire with airline.”

Every other flight had times listed. Not ours.

We walked down to the gate where our flight was supposed to leave… and there was no plane.

Frankfurt airport had been shut down.

Our luck had finally run out.

The city was suffering from bad weather conditions that turned the runway into ice. Supposedly it’s a very rare instance because Frankfurt often faces inclement weather, but usually the airport is able to handle it. Not this time.

The BA staff directed us to the baggage carousel where we were instructed to retrieve our bags and try to find other flights. Thankfully we had trip insurance.

It was a two-hour hassle with Expedia, but we finally got booked on another flight.

Problem was, it wasn’t until the next day.  So British Airways gave us $100 to use on a hotel for the night.  Expedia told us our options were a 1-star hotel for $95 or a 4-star hotel for $120.  We had no way of knowing whether Expedia was jerking us around on this one, but the second option worked out to $5 per star and we couldn’t really argue with that.

The Radisson Edwardian is what I imagine a haunted hotel would look like. It looked very old — dim hallways, dark wood paneling, paintings of wealthy and most likely dead Brits — and for some reason every word with the letter “o” in it was spelled with zeroes instead. So “POOL” was spelled “P00L”.

We didn’t check-in to the hotel until about 11 p.m. and we had to be up at 4:15 a.m. to catch a bus back to the airport. I was so paranoid that the wake-up alarm on the TV wouldn’t go off that I woke up every few minutes until I finally gave up at about 3 a.m. and hopped in the shower.

Of course, being Europe and all, there was no shower door. And the shower head was so low that even a dwarf would have been inconvenienced. But at least the towels were hot thanks to the warming towel rack.

We’ll see what the tide brings in Frankfurt.

On Christmas Day, we enjoyed a hassle-free 1-hour flight from Frankfurt to Berlin.  Right about the time we were landing, 400 miles away in Amsterdam, an Islamic extremist was boarding a plane bound for Detroit with the intent to blow it up.

By now, you’ve certainly heard about the attempted terror attack on Northwest Flight 253 by a guy with suspected terrorist ties carrying no luggage on a cross-Atlantic flight… not that that’s suspicious or anything.

Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, who from here on out will be known as The Crazy Nigerian Underwear Bomber, hid a small amount of a chemical powerful enough to take down a plane in his private area.

First thought:  I’m glad those brave passengers thwarted his attack, forcing this jerk to live the rest of his life in a maximum security prison with a burned trouser snake.

After relief came annoyance and frustration.  We knew airports would quickly implement new security measures that would most likely be ineffective and inconvenient.

Of course, our prognostications came to fruition when word came out that all passengers on U.S.-bound flights were subject to full body pat-downs and individual baggage inspection.

Suddenly, all major airports were seeing delays of over 2 hours and passengers were being asked to show up even earlier than the recommended 3 hours for international flights.

The same delays occurred when the Shoe Bomber failed in 2001.  And it’s because of him we have to take off our shoes when we go through airport security.

Luckily the Underwear Bomber incident hasn’t led to us taking off our underwear when we go through airport security.  Yet.

Come New Year’s Day, it was our turn to experience the new security measures.  Passing through security at Berlin-Tegel airport wasn’t too bad at 5 in the morning despite a pat-down by a cold-faced German bodybuilder with Hulk-like hands.

Security at London Heathrow’s Terminal 5 was much worse.  Our flight to L.A. was scheduled to leave at 10:15…

We didn’t enter the security line until 10:19.

Then it was time for the slow shuffle to the pat-down area.  I don’t mind that foot-numbing, back-aching kind of shuffle in a museum, but it’s much more tedious in a line full of exhausted people eager to get home, especially when the plane is sitting at the gate waiting for us.

After a soul-crushing hour of shuffling to the front of the line, it was time for inspection.  The guy riffled through my carry-on without any kind of protective hand covering or Purell at the ready.  At that moment, I started feeling bad for him instead of myself…

My bag was full of dirty socks and underwear.  And chances are he’ll eat a sandwich with those hands one day.  No matter how many times he washes those hands with industrial strength antiseptic, the gut-wrenching feeling of having handled my used underwear isn’t something that can be washed away.  That’s something that scars the soul.

Then came the pat-down.  The completely ineffective, totally pointless pat-down.  I didn’t feel any safer because a security guard grazed my junk with the back of his hand.  He didn’t even come close to the area where The Crazy Nigerian Underwear Bomber stashed explosives.

Then news came out over the weekend that standard pat-downs like the one the middle-aged guy with the buzz cut gave me at Heathrow wouldn’t have detected the underwear bomb anyway.  So instead of easing passenger fears and forcing terrorists to rethink their future attacks, we stand in long lines and disrupt our way of life to maintain an illusion of safety.

We’re not going to say the security system is a failure.  But considering the amount of things that have been confiscated by us from airport security over the years . . . everything from hand-warmers to Christmas pudding pie . . . the fact that this guy, someone with reported religious extremist ties, traveling with hand-luggage only for a 2-week trip to the U.S., can waltz onto an airplane like he owns the thing, well it’s just a bit baffling.

People asked us if we were scared to board a plane so soon after an attempted attack.  And the answer is…

No.  The odds are still overwhelming in our favor of a safe, terrorist-free flight — pat-downs or not.  Besides, we were too tired to be scared by the time we finally got on the plane.

Photo courtesy of Tomasz Turczynski