Four Days in Downtown Atlanta and the World of Coca-Cola

“It’s all over,” said the woman sitting across from me on the MARTA train we were riding to airport. “Thank goodness!”

Maybe everyone feels relieved when they leave the annual America’s Mart, the largest trade show for gifts in the world.

Traveling for work, flying, staying in hotels, eating in restaurants every night, are luxuries I never would have dreamed of as a child, and I try to remind myself every year when I visit Atlanta for the big show.

But it’s also a lot of work and organization and schlepping a laptop and papers all over the three buildings that house the market. Trade shows are the place to go to find the newest trends and products, but then comes the question. Will our customers want what I think they do?

At the show, most attendees are either buyers (like me and my coworker, Jen) or exhibitors. Everyone wears a color-coded badge showing which one you are.

The buyers have the better job, I think. Yes, we walk miles. But the exhibitors have to stay in their showroom or booth and smile brightly at every buyer that walks past. The saleswomen often dress in beautiful clothes, full-makeup, and maybe even high heels. Buyers wear sneakers.

Business aside, I’ve come to view my annual trip as a chance to see America in a whole different way. People come from all over the country for the show, and despite the crowds and stress everyone must feel, most everyone is polite and kind. And the ones who shove in front of you to get on a elevator? Well, they’re probably late for an appointment.

When we flew in on Tuesday afternoon, it was in the fifties and we decided to go for a walk in Centennial Olympic Park, where the Olympics were held in 1996.

Then I realized the Coca-Cola museum was nearby. “Shall we go?” I suggested. It was 3:30, and the museum closed at 5.

“Yes, let’s go!” Jen agreed. She and I have been doing the Atlanta show together for years, and happily, we seem to have similar energy levels. Neither of us mustered up the strength to use the hotel gym, but yes, we will go to a museum even if we only have an hour and a half before closing.

Actually, there were plenty of other people still buying tickets, including many international tourists. One group behind us was speaking in a language I couldn’t identify, but I understood one word: “Amish”.

Oh well.

Coca-Cola was invented in Atlanta one hundred and forty years ago, as a cure for ailments like headaches. Advertisements including wording like “The wonderful nerve and brain tonic” and “remarkable therapeutic agent”. Not all wrong. A can of cold Coke is a lifesaver during a summer road trip, and there are worse things passing as therapy nowadays.

One of the highlights of the museum was seeing the vault where the Coca-Cola recipe/formula is kept. Only the CEOs have access, via the handprint scanner. (The red light shining on the vault was for dramatic effect).

When I told friends at church yesterday about the vault, one was skeptical. But dramatic red light aside, the secret formula does seem to be factual, the Wikipedia article is pretty fascinating.

One fun part of the tour is the tasting room, where you can taste Coke products from around the world.

On the way back to our hotel, we noticed workers taking down the spokes of the Sky View Atlanta, a ferris wheel near the park. We spoke with the workmen and they explained that they were just taking it apart for maintenance.

We flew home on Saturday, arriving between two weekend snowstorms. Sunday was a beautiful snowy day, with a fellowship meal at church and a cozy afternoon with a book. Today it was back to the office, with a bunch of catch-up work and all my notes and orders from the show to enter.

Traveling is a privilege, but so is coming home.