Is a 1 hour layover long enough for international flights?

Is 1 hour layover enough for international flights?

One hour? Honey, that’s enough time to find your gate, realize you’re in the wrong terminal, and then aggressively power-walk hoping for a miracle.

Two hours, though? Now we’re talking. It’s like giving yourself a buffer so you don’t arrive at your next gate looking like you wrestled a baggage carousel…and lost.

Think of it this way: Your layover is a fragile ecosystem.

• Immigration lines: They’re like the Bermuda Triangle, except instead of disappearing planes, you lose your sanity.
• Customs: It’s the “show and tell” portion of your trip where they decide if your souvenir coconut is contraband.
• Connecting flight boarding: The ultimate race against time. Will you make it? Will the overhead bins be full? Will you find a seat away from the screaming baby? It’s a gamble, I tell ya.

Even with two hours, stuff happens. I once spent 45 minutes trying to explain to security that my collection of vintage spoons was not a threat. Spoons, people! The horror!

Seriously, though, airlines try to avoid scheduling impossible connections, especially on one ticket. But “try” is the operative word.

• One airline, one ticket? Slightly less likely to end in tears, maybe even a small, grudging smile.
• Separate tickets? Buckle up, buttercup. You’re on your own!

And get this, I flew through Schiphol Airport last week, and they changed my gate three times. Three times! I almost missed my flight because I was too busy buying cheese. My priorities, I know.

Here’s the kicker: What do you value more?

• Saving Money? Go ahead, risk it with the shorter layover!
• Your Sanity? Add an extra hour. Trust me.

Look, if you’re a seasoned traveler who can sprint through airports while simultaneously ordering a latte in fluent Italian, go for it! But me? I like my layovers like I like my cheese: Aged, relaxed, and preferably involving a glass of wine.

But just because I’m writing this in a sleep-deprived haze at 3 AM doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve been warned.

What is the minimum layover time between international flights?

Two hours. Staring at the ceiling fan. International. Feels longer. Drags. Especially at night. Atlanta last year… three hours. Felt like days. Missed my connecting flight. Slept on the floor. Ugh.

• Minimum: Two hours…bare minimum. Cutting it close. Stressful.
• Domestic: Hour, maybe hour and a half. Easier. Less hassle.
• International: Three hours. Safer bet. Gives you breathing room. Customs… ugh. Security again. Long walks. Lost once in Dallas. Nightmare. Three hours minimum. Seriously.

Passport control… Takes forever. Never know. Once in Heathrow… four hours. Stuck. Just… stuck. This year. 2024. Everything’s slower. Just is. Three hours isn’t even enough sometimes. My brother… missed his flight to Rome. Lost his luggage. Three hour layover. Still wasn’t enough. Ridiculous.

How long of an international layover do you need?

Three hours. Bare minimum. A frantic dash, a breathless race. The echoing hush of the terminal. The relentless ticking clock, a cruel metronome to my anxieties. My heart pounded.

Two hours? Insanity. Impossible. Luggage, a cumbersome beast, swallowed by the conveyor belts. The serpentine lines, a river of weary travelers. Customs. Security. The sheer weight of it all.

Security. A second layer of anxious waiting. The same slow, creeping line. Another X-ray, another pat-down. Another stolen moment of peace. The sterile scent of disinfectant. My sweat mixed with perfume.

More than enough time? No. Never. International travel. Always a gamble. A harrowing pilgrimage through airports. My flight to Rome in 2022 taught me that lesson.

• Minimum three hours for international layovers. This is non-negotiable.
• Customs and security: Expect delays. Count on it. Always. Factor this into your calculation. Every single time.
• Luggage handling: A black hole of time. Prepare for unexpected setbacks. Baggage carousels. Waiting games. The slow, agonizing process.

My backpack. My worn copy of “One Hundred Years of Solitude” – a constant companion in transit. The bitter taste of airport coffee. These are the memories. Always the memories. The endless wait. The endless hallways. Time stretched thin. Thin as a cobweb.

Do you have to go through customs on an international layover?

International layovers… ugh. It depends. Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t. Really sucks. My flight last year through Heathrow… total nightmare. Customs lines… endless.

• Depends on the airport. Some are better designed than others. Think Amsterdam Schiphol, relatively smooth sailing, but even then. . . the wait.

• Depends on your nationality. This is huge. My sister, she’s Australian, has it easier. I’m stuck with my American passport, feels like extra scrutiny every time.

• Depends on the airline. They’re all different. Some airlines handle connecting flights more smoothly, less bureaucracy. Lufthansa, for example. United? Not so much. It’s a gamble, really.

It’s mostly about connecting flights. Domestic to domestic – no problem, usually. International to domestic… you almost always go through. That’s the brutal truth. International to international? Tricky. Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t. It all depends. That airport in Dubai…that was a madhouse last 2023.

Last time, I almost missed my flight. Heart was pounding. Stressful. The whole process, draining. Never fun.