Flat-fizz-flop

Vladivostok airport's bar is not high on my must-do list, but gazing at its departure board's unpronounceable destinations would, at least, help while away any protracted Siberian stopover.

No such visual interest here, alas, unless you count a whirling water feature panel, reminiscent of a TV ad's representation of an IBS sufferer's gurgling intestines.

Morechampagne is a boxy glass adjunct to a purpose-built office and shopping plaza in the shadow of London Bridge.

For a quick breakfast, espresso shot, or lunch on the hoof, I can just about see the appeal - although at £7.95 for an artichoke, watercress and Parmesan salad, it's a fairly pricey snack bar.

With so many swanky local alternatives, why opt for the sterility of a venue whose over-lit, clinical interior has all the charm of a liver transplant suite?

A party of besuited businessmen necking Coronas complete with lime wedges were the only takers on the night we visited. House bubbly - 5p short of 30 notes - was OK, but spendier options, such as a 1996 Louis Roederer Cristal rosè at £250, deserve much sexier surroundings. The advertised evening tapas were all off when we pitched up at 9pm.

As the venue is non-smoking, we were ushered, ice bucket in freezing hand, to the social Siberia of tables under parasols, whose infra-red heaters failed to insulate us from the windswept plaza's hostile micro-climate. Compared to this flat-fizz-flop, even Vladivostok rocks.

Morechampagne
5a More Place, SE1