Belgium, Colour Me Stupid
The Soul Soother and I shuffle forward. As luck would have it, the X-ray machine serving our queue has just decided to throw a fit and a technical looking chap has just fiddled with its insides. I sigh as the beep tells us that the twenty-minute wait was not enough for the elderly gent in front of me to remove his belt.
Suitably de-metalled, he manages to clear the security step and we both step through too. We pause to collect our belongings and head away from the hustle and bustle of airport life. Is it just me, or is the area around airport security always darker than the rest of the building?
Feeling hungry we join the sweaty and heaving masses for an over priced snack at the bland airport bar. We know that the food options on our flight are limited and are prepared for that eventuality but drinks have to purchased post-security, of course.
I grab a bottle of something and so does she. I consider something colder but realise that the slush drinks on offer come in cups and are not too easy to carry. Then I notice what kind of slush it is:
Odd drinks make you look twice? Leave us a comment and tell us about them!
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