Pulling in, I half-expected a concrete jungle with a grumpy attendant. Instead, it felt... fine. Almost pleasant, if a car park can be pleasant.
It’s close to the terminal. Like, really close. You’re not hiking for 20 minutes with a suitcase that has a mind of its own. That alone is worth a little happy dance.
The Real Magic Trick: The Price
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Or should I say, the price tag that doesn’t make you cry into your passport. Queens House doesn’t charge you the same as a small European vacation.
It’s long stay pricing, which is a fancy way of saying they don’t gouge you for leaving your car for a week. You pay less, you stress less. Simple math, right?
Honestly, I’ve paid more for a sandwich at the airport than a full day here. Don’t quote me on that, but it feels true.
