Apparently even something good like opening a new terminal can completely derail operations at Heathrow (via).
Ugh. My last experience there was when I was in London for a few days during August of 2006, right when the alleged potion-mixing terror plot unraveled. I say ‘alleged’ because apparently it’s not as easy as all that to just mix up some explosives using liquids or gels carried in cosmetics bottles or tubes of toothpaste. I spent 21 hours at the airport waiting for a flight to take me back to New York, any flight. Overnight we were given foil emergency blankets and some sandwiches and juice. Then once I got a flight and checked in, I had nothing but my wallet, passport and keys with me in transit. I bought a book and some magazines to read, which I couldn’t take on the flight. Nor could I take the lip balm I bought right there in the transit area too. Everyone waiting for flights looked thoroughly traumatized and lost. I still don’t know what the point was.
I confess I am kind of glad I can’t really get on airplanes for the next couple of months.
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