Heinken

Airport Drinking or How I Stopped Worrying

Currently in the middle of a backpack trip to Europe, I am writing this ithe downstairs bar of an 800-bed hostel in London, witnessing the evening’s crowd of international youth dwindle down, and drinking what should surely be my last cider of the night, cider not being my first choice of drink, but as they say, ‘when in Rome’, or in this case, England.

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