In the land of the tiny tiny Coke can


Gail and I are on an adventure, currently sitting in the airline lounge in London waiting for a flight to Amsterdam. We’re going on a cruise from there to Budapest Hungary with our friends Jack and Carol Scott.

Sadly, we have a five hour layover here. British Airways has separate lounges for first and business class, and we are clearly the peasants here. Business class is certainly not getting the upscale amenities here in Terminal 5 south.

Not that it’s all bad–unlike the States, lounges here have open buffets with decent food and open bars with good quality liquor. You could get completely snockered on single malt Scotch if you so chose.

What is strange is the ancient, shabby, tatty furniture. The serious lack of enough electric outlets. The almost nonexistent places to sit upright and work on your computer. This place reminds me of my college dormitory when it should be a high tech retreat for the world traveling executive.

And then there are the Coke cans. 150 mililiters, just 5 ounces. I’ve never seen a miniature can before. Hope I never see one again. That just isn’t enough soda to quench anyone’s thirst.


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