There's an observation deck! A few years ago, in lieu of a lounge for their business class and shiny card passengers, BA would hand out vouchers for €20 which you could use in the cafe next to this deck - which, arguably, made it the best "lounge" in Europe. Because, as you'll know if you read either of my "arriving at Innsbruck" diary entries either in this trip or in December 2016, the airport's surroundings are as spectacular as the city. Not surprising considering it's just one long valley.
While Helen has a vape I take a few snaps. It's a shame the weather is poor but doesn't spoil the effect that much. There's not many planes around, for this ain't a busy place even in early winter, so by the time we go back in downstairs the security queue is pretty short. We reach the front in moderately short order, but then the problems begin.
First, our clear bag full of toiletries is unsuitable. We aren't allowed to put both our toiletries in the same bag, and we're not allowed to put non-liquids/gels/etc in a clear bag alongside them. Fine. Then, once through, my bags are chosen for secondary inspection. They don't like the iPad keyboard, they don't like the bag full of cables and plugs, they don't like the camera, they don't like the lenses. Eventually my bags are completely emptied of all their contents and go through the scanner THREE times. And all of this occurred with headmistress-sternness, no good cheer at all. Bloody hell.
Good job we got that earlier bus, then. Around the corner I'm able to rearrange everything back to how I want it and put my belt back on and oh, we're at the lift that goes up to the lounge. Let's get in the lift. Up on the first floor Helen's face falls a bit as she thinks the awful seating area is the lounge - but no, it's just another bit of regular seating next to the desk and hidden door. Inside the lounge proper and we're amazed and delighted.
It's not a big place, but they've managed to have about 4 or 5 separately designed areas each giving a bit of a different feel. There's food and booze and only one other person, and there are free seats by the floor to ceiling windows looking out directly onto the tarmac at all the parked private planes and across to the mountains. This is a winner.
We both go and fill up a plate full of cheese and meat, Helen getting so overexcited she flings some brie straight on the floor. Slowly the lounge gets busy as sundry other folk turn up but whatever - our seats shield us from them mostly, and I'm spending most of my time standing at the window taking pictures of planes.