My dream of jet set glamour has died – in a pleather chair full of other people's crumbs | Emma Beddington
My dream of jet set glamour has died – in a pleather chair full of other people's crumbs | Emma Beddington
The use of airport lounges is soaring, born of a desire to feel a bit special. The reality is we’re all going to end up crammed into the same awful, environmentally disastrous metal tube
The New Yorker has published a deliciously fact-stuffed long read on the airport lounge: there are more than 3,500 worldwide, of which 37 are in Suvarnabhumi airport in Bangkok. American Airlines opened the first in 1939 and called its VIP members “admirals”.
There are almost more admirals than ordinary seamen now (a weird metaphor in an air travel context, yes; blame American Airlines). The “mostly low- and mid-tier” lounge network Priority Pass saw a 31% increase in usage last year, including me: my credit card came with this seemingly seductive perk. I was thrilled to join the global elite in what I imagined would be a cashmere and champagne cocoon, saved from the usual three hours (my husband is one of those travellers) crouched by a bin in the purgatorial wasteland of Manchester Terminal 3, nursing a half-frozen Boots falafel wrap.
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Source: Original top story via The Guardian
