After five days of hotel-taxi-office-taxi-hotel it was time to come home. Warsaw is going though the second (third?) reconstruction post the razing of it in WW2, but they have retained the feel of a modern european city with wide boulevards. They complained a lot about the traffic congestion at rush hour, but having experienced the same in Bangalore and Sao Paulo I think Warsaw has a lot of catching up to do in that department. As I was fed and watered by the Exec Lounge and lacked a local host my evenings didn't stray much beyond the hotel, and the day I did think I would visit the Uprising Museum (it being at the end of the street that has my employer's office) I was stymied by lack of time.
I had done OLCI again, so a bag drop after a straightforward drive to the airport. No "self tagging" as there had been in London, but quick enough. Determined to exploit my Priority Pass membership again I ignored the siren call of the glass case full of dead things in the main terminal but made a severe tactical error in choosing a queue with baby and buggy in front of me. What larks as they tried to get the buggy through the X Ray machine. Oh how we laughed as this went on....and on.....and on.
Eventually though I was through and off to find a source of beer and food. Near gates 8 to 11 the app said. What it didn't say is that gates 8 to 11 are separated from the area containing the lounge by a glass wall. Luckily this hadn't involved any crossing of "no going back" security lines. Going the correct route did, where I made a bit of a prat of myself waiting for the gate by the security point to open for me. "Why are you still here?" the security officer said "the gate is open". I had expected it to go "buzz" or "kerlunk" or something. Nope, just open.
Though the lounge had clearly had some form of savoury snack available at some point, I had to rely the trinity of beer, salted peanuts and Ferrero Rocher to prevent true hunger setting in. The situation of the lounge seemed quite unusual, being on the ground floor and by the gates so you could see the aircraft park up. At one or two points I did wonder whether an "Airplane!" incident would occur.
My heart sank (as did another beer) as a fifteen minute delay was announced (shades of my flight out!) but at least I had a flight, which it seemed some in the Lounge didn't as theirs had been cancelled...or delayed....the story changed.
Strolled to the gate, queued, on and departed ten or so minutes after schedule. In this instance the time was made up,and we were at the gate as scheduled. I think I saw a number of speed cameras flicker into life during our transit round Heathrow on the ground, with a handbrake turn at one point, but I wasn't for complaining. Twenty minutes after skidding to a halt I was in the taxi on the long-ish drive home debating the relative merits of the Telecaster and Les Paul.
I had done OLCI again, so a bag drop after a straightforward drive to the airport. No "self tagging" as there had been in London, but quick enough. Determined to exploit my Priority Pass membership again I ignored the siren call of the glass case full of dead things in the main terminal but made a severe tactical error in choosing a queue with baby and buggy in front of me. What larks as they tried to get the buggy through the X Ray machine. Oh how we laughed as this went on....and on.....and on.
Eventually though I was through and off to find a source of beer and food. Near gates 8 to 11 the app said. What it didn't say is that gates 8 to 11 are separated from the area containing the lounge by a glass wall. Luckily this hadn't involved any crossing of "no going back" security lines. Going the correct route did, where I made a bit of a prat of myself waiting for the gate by the security point to open for me. "Why are you still here?" the security officer said "the gate is open". I had expected it to go "buzz" or "kerlunk" or something. Nope, just open.
Though the lounge had clearly had some form of savoury snack available at some point, I had to rely the trinity of beer, salted peanuts and Ferrero Rocher to prevent true hunger setting in. The situation of the lounge seemed quite unusual, being on the ground floor and by the gates so you could see the aircraft park up. At one or two points I did wonder whether an "Airplane!" incident would occur.
My heart sank (as did another beer) as a fifteen minute delay was announced (shades of my flight out!) but at least I had a flight, which it seemed some in the Lounge didn't as theirs had been cancelled...or delayed....the story changed.
Strolled to the gate, queued, on and departed ten or so minutes after schedule. In this instance the time was made up,and we were at the gate as scheduled. I think I saw a number of speed cameras flicker into life during our transit round Heathrow on the ground, with a handbrake turn at one point, but I wasn't for complaining. Twenty minutes after skidding to a halt I was in the taxi on the long-ish drive home debating the relative merits of the Telecaster and Les Paul.
We can get better, because we're not dead yet