The art of naming airports

You may not know Louisville, Kentucky. It is one of those cities that make a fleeting appearance on the inflight sky map between New York and Dallas or Chicago and Atlanta. But you will certainly have heard of its most celebrated citizen: Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr was born in the city 77 years ago this week, and later became Muhammad Ali.

Two years after his death, the heavyweight boxer and humanitarian is to be celebrated through the name of the local Louisville Muhammad Ali International airport. (The “international”, by the way, is wishful thinking: the current route network goes no further south than Texas and Florida, and no further north than Minneapolis.)

For a middle-sized city on the Kentucky-Indiana border, it is a smart move; the change was made after research showed that Ali enjoyed rather more global recognition than Louisville.

Almost every US airport seems to be named after someone, though usually a local worthy like the 1930s New York police chief Fiorello La Guardia rather than a global statesman like John F Kennedy.

Rome has Leonardo da Vinci, Tirana owns Mother Teresa and Paris is synonymous with Charles de Gaulle.

Goodness knows why Amsterdam has not ditched the difficult to spell and pronounce Schiphol in favour of Rembrandt or Anne Frank.

Simon Bolivar, the liberator, is celebrated in the name of multiple airports in South America.

Yet in the UK you can count the number of airports named for people on the digits of a three-toed sloth: George Best Belfast City, Liverpool John Lennon and Robin Hood Doncaster-Sheffield.

We should do more. In time, I believe Heathrow will become Queen Elizabeth II airport – a much better name than that of the tiny hamlet, Heath Row, which was long obliterated beneath Europe’s busiest airport.

“East Midlands” means little to anyone outside the Derby, Leicester and Nottingham triangle. But local boy Thomas Cook (born in Derbyshire, worked in Leicestershire) is globally recognised as the father of modern travel. The only objections I foresee are from Jet2 and TUI, who will not enjoy selling flights and holidays that depart from an airport named after an arch rival.

Glasgow airport could adopt Andy Murray, who was born in the city, while nearby Prestwick should open negotiations with Elvis Presley Enterprises: the singer touched down at the Ayrshire airport in 1960. If that doesn’t work, Robert Burns (who has no corporation guarding his name) will suffice.

The practice will not work everywhere. Manchester has the benefit of two giant football teams. Celebrating the suffragette born nearby, Emmeline Pankhurst, may serve only to confuse travellers. And London City airport says what it is; adding the name of someone who was born in the vicinity, such as EastEnders actor Danny Dyer, will not necessarily increase its awareness with the international financiers who are the target travellers.

But Birmingham airport can make a legitimate claim for William Shakespeare’s name, since Stratford-upon-Avon is only 20 miles away. London Oxford, which isn’t really anywhere near London nor a thriving airport, might do better under the name of Winston Churchill or Stephen Hawking airport, both born nearby.

The biggest prize for airports short on recognition are fictional creations by British writers.

James Bond should be grabbed quickly: Hamburg, Miami, Nassau and Prague airports have all appeared in 007 movies and may have their eyes on the spy, as might Kingston, Jamaica – close to where Ian Fleming created his hero.

Inverness, which I assess as the closest airport to Hogwarts School, must surely become Harry Potter International airport. And at the same time, Exeter – where the writer studied – would win more recognition on the world stage if its airport took the name of JK Rowling.