“We need more things like this” my friend says as we walk into the TWA Hotel in Jamaica, New York.
We’ve just emerged, sweaty and verklempt, from the traffic lines of John F. Kennedy International Airport, which is under construction, creating new and more sadistic ways to congest roadways every day. Outside, the thermostat is reaching 90 degrees, and the air conditioning in my Prius is broken.
It was not the air conditioning, though, my friend was reacting to, nor the relative lack of people in a hotel lobby at 11 a.m. on a Thursday, but the dramatic white slopes of the TWA’s concrete ceilings, which gracefully arch and intersect above, eventually touching down on a red carpet that spreads across most of the hotel’s floors. Past the check-in desk, that carpet falls into a huge sunken lounge, covered — built-in furniture and all — in that same Oscars-red-carpet red, and facing two panoramic windows that open like butterfly wings. On either side of the lounge, the hotel splits off into white, space age tunnels and balconies that lead to rooms, air travel museum exhibits, restaurants, including one by Jean-Georges, and the reason we are here: the pool.
Though we drove in from Brooklyn, I imagine a lot of people feel like my friend when they come to the TWA, the hotel at JFK airport, attached to Terminal 5 by two skywalks. Designed by Eero Saarinen and opened in 1962, it feels like the mid-century promise of rocket travel: a capsule of calm in the middle of huge, unwieldy space — in this case, the airport. The people who come to the TWA are often on a layover, escaping that nagging sense of intra-flight limbo and the sensory overload of a busy terminal. (There’s a reason we named the TWA Hotel one of our Greatest Hotels Ever.)
The TWA does draw a healthy stream of city slickers like me, too, mostly coming for a similar reason: a reprieve from the jet stream of noises and smells of NYC. And also a clean pool accessible by subway — the one here is purified every 30 minutes. My friend and I hang a right and head into the tunnel that will take us to the water.
It’s not often an airport hotel makes a name for itself, but if you’ve heard of the TWA, it’s probably because of the pool. We walk outside and we are in bathing suits on the runway, so close to the planes that I half expect air traffic control to arrest us. The deck itself and almost all of its furniture is a stark, reflective white, and its shape is long and skinny, like an airplane wing. Ahead of us is the expected pool bar. To our right, is a narrow pool with an infinity edge that runs right into the tarmac.
As we grab two lounge chairs — there’s lots of seats — a plane roars and takes off right in front of us.
The TWA managed to get this proximity because it used to be a flight center and airport terminal for Trans World Airlines, which American Airlines bought in 2001, leading to the closure of the flight center that same year. Rosa Rodriguez, the bartender today, says previous TWA employees, pilots and such, like to visit the pool, and they are some of her favorite people to meet.
On the day I’m there, there’s no ex-TWA employees, but the deck has drawn an eclectic crowd. I see a family with small children, a pair of women lounging in the water, a couple hanging over the infinity edge, a father and his teenage son watching the planes in stilted silence at the bar, and a small group of businessmen in suits, giggly over the runway. All in attendance, no matter how chic or nerdy, are suddenly excited by the planes they dreaded boarding hours ago. The TWA pool is cool for everyone.
Rosa says the margaritas are the most popular drink here, so we order two along with a chicken caesar salad wrap and a hummus plate. The food is delivered in plastic containers similar to that of airline food, but thankfully tastes much better than anything you’d get in economy class. Pool reservations last one hour and 45 minutes, and we pass our time idly chatting, wading in and out the water. The runway is busy, the deck is relaxed.
“I feel like I have an American Express Black Card,” I say to my friend, which, as a writer, is a credit limit I definitely do not have. The TWA, and especially its pool, approximates the feeling of that exclusive airport lounge for the rest of us.
You don’t have to be a hotel guest to get into the pool, but being a hotel guest does decrease the price of a reservation. An hour and 45 minute time slot at the pool is $25 for adults if you have a room booked, $10 for children, and free before 10:45 a.m. If you are not a hotel guest, that same time will cost you $50 for adults with Resort Pass and $20 for children. Prices decrease in the cooler months. Rooms are available for as few as four hours, which is great for those who have a layover at JFK and are craving a nice shower.
And then, sooner than I expected, a pool attendant walks through and says our time is almost up, and I’m reminded that the air conditioner in my Prius is still broken.
