At any airport, a gal wants something that makes her smile. That is simply not possible at most US airports, where you know you might have to stand in line, for what seems like forever… or somewhere in the middle of India where I was warned Cudgels and other Potential Weapons were not allowed.
Here we are again, at Heathrow. Get to terminal five and you are in European-airport-heaven (though Amsterdam does offer a casino, for gaming enthusiasts, and Frankfurt and Munich both have amazing shopping, landside before you go through security).
Heathrow terminal five security is now well organized, unless there are masses of kids flying (always takes more time). Once through, I will now shop at Harrods since it is no longer Fayed- but Qatari-owned.
Here is my favourite food shop, Itsu. It looks fun, and has really really great salads-to-go, edamame beans and seaweed and sticky rice and avocado (Itsu is the latest brain child of Julian Metcalfe who co-started the great Prêt-a-Manger, and at the Prêt stand here I like their brie and tomato baguettes).
Back up to my second home, the British Airways Gold Lounge. The Champagne bar now has Laurent-Perrier – what more could a bubbly travellin’ gal want on a Saturday morning?
I sit back, enjoying luxury travel, and watch a rolling display board. It shifts electronically from showing an old-fashion stick to promotions for Dell computers, IBM and InterContinental hotels (with local ideas from some of their top concierges) and on to another airline advertisement, showing a small boy nearly lost under a captain’s hat.
This reminds me of a photo back – at my real – home, of My Man almost lost under his father’s RAF cap. Time to go, gal.