At Denver's new airport, the crowds were large, but there was enough space for them, and a trip on the subway to view the main terminal -- the building with the roof that consists of those metaphorical white mountains -- was worth the time. But by now it was mealtime again, and though we found a seat in the balcony cafe in the main terminal, we came nowhere near being served (nor did the party at the table next to ours), so along we went, peckish and a little bitter, to our connection and yet another bag of pretzels.
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