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.