Author: alohawild

Going backward, I arrived at The Volvo Cave in Air Volvo from Portland’s airport, unimaginatively named after its call letter, PDX. The travel back was interrupted by southbound I-5 being closed, and I was easily rerouted to 405 and the “Space Shuttle” ramp, which is taller than the Fremont Bridge roadway at its peak! Having switched to the Fremont (405) from the Marquam (I-5), I arrived in Beaverton without issues. It is about the same distance, and there are more chances to drive fast on 405.

I found the house as I left it. I made the bed from newly washed sheets, the dishes were all done, and the house was put in some order to greet me. Corwin had done some lawn work for me. The little garden was gone, and grass seed was planted in its hole in the lawn. He misted the orchids and put a package, my Dungeons and Dragons new 2024 Players Handbook (a second copy), which also comes with a PDF version, in the house.

I showered and was in bed before 1. Unlike the hotel, I was asleep immediately. I was tired from the travel, lack of sleep, and 14,000+ steps for the day. I slept until 6ish.

Going further back in my day, the newer 737, a United flight, was more comfortable than most 737s but had a smaller economy space than any other plane I fly. The Alaska Airlines flight inbound to Chicago was the older model and was more bus than flight. Inbound to PDX, this flight had an entertainment system, and I got earbuds from the stewardess. I can only hear in one ear, but I turned up the sound to near max and used CC to help with all the plane noise. I will soon change back to Bluetooth noise-cancelling headphones. The CC helps me now; I am afraid I use it constantly. I think I need glasses with CC built into them (something that is now possible but not yet available).

I tried music and sleep, but that was not going to work, and it was only a 3:45 flight. I instead picked the newest Planet of the Apes movie I missed in theaters. It is a story set a few generations later. Humans, we learn, called “echos,” are dying out and are only seen when there is draught, and they wander further from their usual hunting and gathering lands. The movie is the tale of the Eagle clan that raises eagles and uses them to catch fish. The clan is attacked. A human gal who can talk is on a mission, and she connects with the apes, and they destroy a military bunker (she gets a hard drive), and so on. It was well done, and the fable was told in a strange setting. I liked it.

After boarding the plane in Chicago, one of the overhead bins would not lock. We waited thirty minutes for the repair guy, delaying our flight. He looked at the issue, put a sticker on the bin to mark it as broken, and used clear tape to close it. With the issue resolved (sort of), we were safe to take off.

Moving to the later afternoon, I reached the Palmer House and picked up my bags from the bag storage. I rolled the bags for four blocks in Chicago to the Jackson Blue Line Elevator and took them to the ticket area. I bought a one-way ticket for $5 and took the handicap elevator to the next level. It was cool on the trains, but the platforms were hot. It was a short wait, and I boarded the O’Hara-bound train and found a chair. It is about an hour’s trip and reminds me of the Washington DC Metro, not NYC. I felt safe the whole trip. The last station was ridiculously hot, with giant fans blowing to move the air but not to cool it.

I rolled my bags on and on and found I was in Terminal 1. I worked out the check-in process, tagged and handed over my bag (having paid United $40 for the first bag–first bag was free on Alaska), and received my seat (not an upgrade) without additional cost (the same seat was offered to me for $129 last night, f**k that for a less than four-hour flight). I walked and walked and found security and managed to not have my pants fall off without my belt. I passed, but people were dropping things everywhere, and I had to retrieve a dropped earbud from the gym bag I used for my carry-on. I soon found a sandwich and a place to charge my laptop and iPhone. I loan my plugs, and I carry a spare and a battery to a gal who charges her phone. I spend a few hours enjoying my sandwich, reading, texting, and surfing the Internet. I bought an overpriced bottle of water but refilled it.

I head to the gate and find a chair at the laptop bar. I see someone who used to work at Nike in the upgrade line, but I am aggressively ignored. Never really liked him, either. I am in the last group and find my cheap seat in the middle, 26B. One seatmate is more aggressive-ignoring, but the other is friendly and an engineer. We both watch the events of the broken overhead bins with amusement.

(you can see my reflection over the shark)

Moving back further, the Shedd Aquarium was Wednesday’s tourism target. I walk to it—a thirty-minute walk—and head to the lakeshore, trying to remember the matching hymn. I go slow and learn not to walk on the bike trail but to use the pedestrian trail by the water. While walking, I spotted the water taxi company I used yesterday’s dock. I climb many steps, discover the aquarium is buried in construction, and have to walk around it. The sun is hot today in Chicago, and the lake’s humidity does not improve the experience. The line is long for ad hoc tickets, but there is a QR code to scan.  I buy a ticket on my phone before the line moves a lot. I wait on a bench for five minutes, and the ticket pops into my email. I enter and find the dolphin show about to start. I sit high up with my back of the rock–not comfy but still better, and another gal joins me. She is taking a bus tour from Boston and, like me, traveling alone. She, too, travels often and visits museums all over. I will have to check on bus tours–I like that idea for the more compressed East Coast. We chat about our travels while we wait for the show to start. It is the usual seaworld stuff, and I don’t bother with the camera.

I found the colossal reef tank with sharks and lots of fish, which is more my style. I got the required shark picture. There are also real reef tanks with coral, crabs, and various invertebrates. While well done, I have seen better setups in Portland and Beaverton aquarium stores. Still, I am a sucker for a well-stocked aquarium. I soon find the vast collection of tanks. The Shedd specializes in tanks for fish, invertebrates, and small reptiles worldwide (no bugs, though). Some tanks are for deeper water, shaded water, and ice-cold water. The Pacific Northwest tanks were cold. I was impressed as you don’t see large cold water tanks as warm water is easier, as you, dear reader, can imagine.

I did the 4D show on octopuses (for another $5), which included a moving chair and tentacles hitting your feet. It was an excellent but short show. I jumped twice when my feet were hit by something that felt like part of an octopus.

While the museums were a more interesting trip and the endless fish blurred together, it was still a good day, and the Chicago dog was good (the poppy seed bun was not provided, but I can forgive that). I would only plan a 1/2 day for the Shedd, but it is just as expensive as the others. The Field Museum is across the parking lot. I think this is an excellent place to use a City Pass. Two 1/2 days here unless there is a good show at Field (Field is a natural history with dinosaurs and that stuff, and I decided to skip it).

Another 35-minute walk back, a $20+ taxi trip, or a water taxi. I forgot that I wanted Union Station and instead got a ticket for Michigan Avenue (meaning a 15-minute walk to the Palmer House). I then enjoyed the water taxi for two trips. I then enjoyed walking one more time in Chicago while I returned to get my bags and headed out at 4ish.

Starting Wednesday, I rose at 6:30 (or 4:40 PDT) to write the blog and pack. I have to sit on my bag to close it, and I no longer regret the insane price I paid, as the zippers hold for the overstuffed case. I shower, dress, and write. I assemble everything and put on a dress shirt for the flight. I have found that the airline crew will treat you better if you look more like a businessman. It was too hot for the sweater in my gym bag.

Breakfast is again at Goddess and the Baker, a block away, after a quick check-out and storing my bags.   I have their biscuit sandwich and manage 2/3 of it. Not as good as the ham was still cold. I could have done better. I get to sit at a table on the sidewalk on Wabash in the old jeweler area and watch Chicago start work on another hump day. There, I decided on the Shedd Aquarium and to walk (Chicago Institute of Art is closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays).

And that takes us full circle. Thanks for reading. I enjoyed my trip, seeing friends (Deborah), enjoying shows (The Book of Morman, Rigoletto, and Henry V), having more to see at Navy Pier, and just walking around The Loop. I might exchange London House for Palmer House to be on the river (with a daily pass for the water taxi), but I enjoyed Palmer House. However, the Hilton daily charge of $25 and the lack of a complimentary brunch-style breakfast (they wanted $200 for a daily voucher at the restaurant) did not sit well with me. The hotel seemed a bit corporate and had less service than I am used to for this price range and a historic hotel. Marriot does this better, and I am comparing this to the US Grant in San Diego (a favorite).

It was a great day and a great week. Thanks for reading.

 

While sleep seems hard to find in hotels, I did manage to sleep after midnight. However, I woke at 5 AM, rolled over, and tried to sleep again. It seemed that an eyeblink later, it was 6 and then 7. I rose and started on the blog. Still, I did not request a coffee maker and thus wrote with just water and music. I would reach just below 15,000 steps for the day. My back did not start to feel and be painful until the final hour of walking, a thirty-minute walk from Navy Pier to Palmer House.

(Only one photo downloaded, sorry)

I intended to take some water tours today, including the architectural tour on the Chicago River. I wrote the blog for a few hours, knowing (I took a photo when I walked by the sign for the tour) that the tour was about 10. I thought the first tour was near the train station (that was where the sign was). I finished and published the blog and then quickly showered, shaved, and dressed in my room on the 23rd floor, 258. I headed out to find a donut and coffee towards the river and the building formally known as the Sears Tower. A small Dunkin Donuts near the tower supplied coffee and a pumpkin donut (they did not have an old-fashioned, my fav). There, I discovered that the tour was not even open on a Tuesday morning. F**k. I found a table, ate my donut, and enjoyed the warm coffee; the building security reminded me last time that you don’t sit on the stonework that is well seat level but may use their tables–so I followed this direction this morning. I did not comment when I was warned that if you value the stonework, why don’t you clean it (it was hard to find a place to sit as it was).

Nearing 10:30, a ship, a water taxi called ASAP, appeared, and I walked down the steep stone steps to the river level. They sold me a ticket for 11:45 for the tour and a water taxi ride to the tour, which was on Michigan Avenue dock, a twenty-minute walk away. I was the only passenger. I talked to a gal in a white shirt with officer marks on her shoulders, who I assumed was the captain, and a guy wearing a life vest who was the deckhand. They were friendly, and we chatted until we left. Then, the deckhand chatted (the captain was busy driving the water taxi) with me about his jobs in advertising. I was dropped off at the Michigan Avenue area and had just under an hour before the tour. I headed to Habor Eggs and had an excellent Eggs Benedict for a second breakfast and lunch. Omar, my waiter, was fast, and while I was rushed, the food appeared immediately, and the coffee, I definitely needed more, was supplied, American Mid-west style, in a small pot, allowing you to do your own refills. A to-go cup was provided, and I paid early so I could just walk out when done. I thanked everyone when I left and gave Omar a large tip. I walked by the University of Chicago Book Store and returned there after the tour, but it was just notebooks and gear for the school. I climbed down the three sets of stairs to reach the river and queued up with the other folks for the tour. Soon, I was seated on a folding chair at the top of the tour. Antonio was our tour guide, and he was excellent.

The tour lasted seventy-five minutes, and the boat had a bar and restrooms (heads). I mainly stayed in my seat and enjoyed Antonio explaining Chicago’s history by pointing out the different styles of its buildings. It was an excellent tour. Antonio told terrible jokes and mentioned places for ice cream and the best rooftop bars.

I returned to walking Chicago, unsure if I should take an Uber or walk back; I retraced yesterday’s walk, which seemed a waste of my time. But then I saw I was at the London House, a hotel. I went in and followed a couple on the same quest, and soon, I was at the rooftop bar. While only 21 stories, it was still a breathtaking view, and the same tour boat I had just left, which looked tiny, was back on the river. To the bartender, a friendly man, I said that Antonio, the tour guide, sent me; the bartender said Antonio was “a smart man” and made me an excellent Gin and Tonic from Bombay Saphire (the good stuff). I drank this slowly, standing, and looked out into Chicago. The day was warm and clear, nearly perfect. After finishing the drink and enjoying the view for twenty minutes, I thanked the bartender for making a lighter drink, as I was not affected and could find my hotel. With mocking sternness, he suggested he had failed, and if I had another, he promised I would not be able to find anything after that drink. I thanked him but left happy with only one drink in me.

The gin made the long walk pleasant. I found my way back, taking photos here and there. I even saw one of the Batman-style lights!

I rested for a while at the hotel, still under my 10,000 goal for walking with all the boating. I cleaned up and shaved again. I put on a dress shirt and a tie loosely around my neck but in my button-down collar. It was now late afternoon when I reached the street level near the Palmer House and soon had an Uber taking me for $30+ to the Navy Pier. Chicago charges for rush hour ($1.50) and to be dropped off at a special site ($5), knocking the price up. The trip was in messy traffic, and I tipped well. I walked to the end of the pier, looking at places to eat and seeing Antonio’s recommended ice cream place (I passed).

I selected Bar Sol because it had a line of chairs looking out at the pier and the waters of Lake Michigan. My waiter, Louisa, was happy to let me eat and drink slowly because they were not too busy on a perfect September night. They had no coffee (that is when you know you are not in the Pacific Northwest) and only made it in the morning. Sparrows made a show for me as the little garden near me was their dusting location. I threw them a chip; I had chips and salsa to start.

I ordered their seafood mix and accepted Lousia’s warning that it was a little spicy (it was a lot spicy). When it came, it was enough for two (or even three) and intimidating. And the price now made since it was a lot of seafood. I decided to ignore prices at my last dinner in Chicago (I will likely get something at the airport on Wednesday). I managed to eat about 1/3. Henry V (put on by the local Shakespeare Company on the pier) was at 7. I paid and walked about 1/2 of the pier to find the playhouse.

The playhouse was lovely, small, and intimate, reminding me of a playhouse in Washington, D.C., and theaters in the round. No storyteller was in their version, but they all shared this role, which moved from actor to actor. The dress was tired, dirty military, with sweat-stained t-shirts, and the king and others wore various countries’ uniforms as the play continued. The battles were Korean War or early Cold War, styled with machine gun fire and explosions. The actors ran through the theater, sometimes on the balcony next to the audience. When the storytelling restarted, the actors would remove their uniforms or additions to their costumes, return to sweat-stained plain military dress, and speak with the role passed between them. This created a page-turning effect and allowed the audience to imagine the next place. The play was excellent, and the words made me tingle, and when the King addressed the audience as his army, we were ready to face the French and wanted not one more man (or woman)!

For the intermission, the actors played music and sang songs. These songs slowly changed to all French, and the play restarted in the silly French scenes almost seamlessly. The play ends with the sad memory of Henry V’s early death, and soon I was headed out.

I walked the thirty minutes back, some in the dark as not all the lights were on by the lake shore. I was not scared, and it was the perfect night to walk. I was soon back in my room and could not sleep until midnight, but at least I was asleep before 1!

Thanks for reading!

The morning started with me rising around 7ish in the Palmer House, 23rd floor, room 258. A one-bed hotel room that is comfortable though a bit small. The one window looks into a building quite taller, and I am glad not to have to use 23 floors of metal fire escape just outside my window! I hear the subway, which reminds me of a sea surf as it approaches and leaves. I never got a coffee maker for my room, meaning I wrote the blog before breakfast and decaffeinated. Monday (I am writing this Tuesday morning) took not long to write as I will not try to describe paintings and art. But the labyrinthine Chicago Art Institute is one of the most excellent museums I have visited. I was done by 10ish and headed to a Dunkin Donuts for a simple Mid-Western Breakfast (and cheap, too).

I started walking in a direction on Wabash I had not gone before and soon found a small Dunkin Donuts that made their coffee too hot, but I could get an Old Fashion donut there, which was excellent. I ordered an Uber to drive more than six miles to the Industrial Arts Museum and home to U-505. The lovely white car arrived within minutes, and soon, I was enjoying a fast trip along the lake. The view was excellent, and I saw Chicago from the shore.

The museum has been updated and revised since I was there as a kid and is much larger. The underground entrance, hallways, displays, and home of U-505 are all new. The place is a learning center and a magical place for families with kids to learn science and industrial history. School was on, and it was Monday, so the place was not busy. The price, including extra for the U-Boat and 007 James Bond Science show, was still less than what I paid at the Chicago Art Institute! I should have bought a membership, as the 10% off for members would have been close to breaking even by the time I did the giftshop and lunch.

Concerned about how long I could last today, I headed to an early appointment for the U-Boat first. The displays on the way were well done but left out the code-breaking on the British side and the fact that the designs of the code-breaking machines came from Alan Turning. I was impressed when I turned the corner and saw that a whole U-Boat was pointed at me and looked fresh and ready.

When I last visited, U-505 was outside and was rusting. Although I knew the curators had placed it inside a building and repaired the boat (submarines are boats, not ships), it was still impressive to see it. The sides of the U-Boat are opened to allow access, and the first compartment, the floor, was lowered to allow for more comfort, but much of the boat is left intact and appeared to have aged well. They have put in sound and lighting to give a feeling of fighting and being depth-charged in a German WW2 submarine. There were fewer than ten of us, and I was able to take some interesting photos. U-505 is the only surviving version of its type, with three newer models also surviving, but I don’t think any are in as good a shape as this one. An awesome display.

It was lunchtime, and after looking at a few displays, including a giant HO-scale train set that reconstructs some of downtown Chicago and Seattle, I found the kitchen and had a Chicago-style hot dog. Next, I head to the 007 show. This is a collection of cars and gadgets with even some interactive displays. There was one of the sharks, great whites, with a note to touch the screen if you dare. I was ready, but the shark image that suddenly attacked from below and “broke” the glass made me jump back.

The golden gun, the Spectra poison knife shoes, and the tux made me smile. It was always the little things that made Bond movies work for me. The scuba gear from “For Your Eyes Only” made me smile as I remember how fun that movie was (it brought the Bond movies back from the well-deserved oblivion of terrible SciFi attempts). Q got many displays and even some screen time as the show was about the science of 007. The little things that made the show special for me, like James Bond’s JB cufflinks. Many displays showed how technology has reached the same level as the show, including a real working jetpack next to the “Thunderball” movie jetpack. I got Dondrea and Z a few items, and some Christmas presents for others.

 

I was happy that only my feet hurt today (though I was only at 3,500+ steps) and continued to look at the various science displays. They have a 727 mounted on the second floor, and the wheels come out, and the wings change for landing. Most of the displays come with something that works. With a reconstructed Wright Flyer, the flight display has various simulators for $5 a ride. I passed on that. I did sit in First Class in the 727.

I discovered the transportation displays in the basement hallways, and there was an impressive set of models and displays. While I have put my models away for now, I want to build a few sailing ships, some from wood, but we will see if I can get back to that. There is so much to do and much Python to code!

I watched a movie demonstrating how to mix the same ingredients to make a commercially available lemon cream pie without natural cream or real lemon. It got its point across about food science sometimes going too far. The place is not a corporate takeover of science.

I walked the third level and decided that 3ish was good to get back before rush hour. The museum shop had no detailed books on U-505 or plans, saving me some money. I found a taxi line outside, and the ready taxi guy said he had been waiting for me. He was happy to get some business and return me to the Palmer House. I accepted and soon cruised the lake shore in a yellow taxi, which cost me less than Uber. The lake looked lovely.

I took my goods back to my room, rested, and read for a few minutes. I headed out and towards the lake shore. I walked again for hours, with only stiffness and not pain, and enjoyed the lakeshore and the river walk. I was tempted by street tacos and tiki bars, but the pizza from last night was in the frig in my room. I did a giant loop and found the bean again. The Mexicans were still parading through the streets but with fewer cars. One could easily fall in love with Chicago Downtown on these warm, dry September nights. I decided I would be back soon.

I returned to my hotel, my legs stiff but no pain. I did re-discover that downtown is one story or more higher than the rest of the town. I had to climb stairs from the river to get back to the street level of Downtown. I know that Chicago raised its streets a story or two years ago, so there are streets and tunnels under the usual roads.

I use a microwave and eat my leftover pizza, which is mostly hot. I don’t want to get it too hot because I have no knife and fork, but it is still wonderful. I eat in the executive spaces to not stink up my room. I return to my room, talk to some folks, and then read. Despite 13,000 steps and no coffee except for breakfast, I still get tired. I go to the bar, have a beer, and watch football. I return and still can’t sleep. Jetlag still. I managed to fall asleep at nearly 1AM.

Thanks for reading.

Sleep was disturbed and limited. I rose, showered, and dressed for a warm but comfortable day in Chicago. The hotel is quiet enough, and the room is cozy. I am on the executive 23rd floor and use an express elevator that stops only at a few floors. It is old school and still has the bench for the attendant. I learned this is the second Palmer House building, but much of the old style of the Civil War-era hotel. The original dishes used at a famous banquet to celebrate the Union heroes are in a case in the lobby and stores; according to the write-up, the rest exist in a vault.

Deborah is safe and returned home on Sunday night. We text now and then. I plan to see much of the Chicago Art Institute, two blocks from the Palmer house and towards the lake. Breakfast is at Goddess and the Baker, a local chain only a few blocks away. There, I selected, after a recommendation, the breakfast burrito filled with scrambled eggs and sausage with various veggies. I had coffee with that and found a seat on a shared bar-like table with a note for laptop users to limit their stay to no more than sixty minutes. The place is overflowing, and I write for only a few minutes before returning to the Palmer House. I find the place packed there as the weddings yesterday are now disassembling with folks checking out. I get a chair at a shared table with an older gentleman who I learned lives in Arizona and officiated at the weddings (and has another one in a few days), who agrees to let me share his space. We chatted, and I learned he missed the reception as he was in the ER for an infection, but he got the wedding done. He tells me he is better and soon heads out. A few less interesting people take his place and are soon replaced repeatedly as folks check out and head out.

I write the blog and soon finish it. I am a few minutes behind my plan of being at the Art Institute by 11. I published the blog and returned my laptop to my room, which is being cleaned. I hid the computer near the luggage, but the gal cleaning the room needed me to produce my room key. I do. She checks that it would have opened the door. It would. I thanked her for being careful and gave her a tip.

The Art Institute is full of stairs, and I am careful when using railings. My legs are stiff, and my balance, while not bad, is not outstanding either. I bought a ticket for the place and for the O’Keeffe show, O’Keefe’s New York, for $42. Annual membership costs $115, but purchasing the membership is not economical unless I return twice, but I always check.

I headed to the impressionists, and that did not disappoint. While Portland’s latest show, closed now, had a few of each, Chicago has a room full of each. The square footage in Monet’s paintings made me almost dizzy. I also saw that a few famous paintings are on loan but are replaced by impressive works by the same artists from another museum in France. There is a brilliant self-portrait of Van Gough. The bronzes are everywhere, too. I see a Degas that matches the bronze I saw in Texas, but this was the less successful nude. The write-up mentions the version I saw before. I have, in my mind, connected the two works. Excellent!

After the first hour of standing, my back started to hurt, which disappointed me as I had planned to spend the whole day in the museum. The area connects to European works, and the museum has a less impressive collection of older paintings, but still something representative. There is a brighter Rembrandt than the ones I saw in New York City and Amsterdam, which surprised me. Once out of the 1600s, I started walking faster.

I head to the modern wing to be turned around to find the American section, and I am lost—the place is enormous and a maze. I discovered that the Café is underground and near the American art in that it is in the same building. After taking too many stairs, I found a strange line and was given a menu; a light lunch was $20. You order and sit, and they bring you the food (tip was included).

I have the gazpacho and the side potato salad that was recommended. The soup was creamy, cold, and drizzled with olive oil. The red potatoes were still warm, and the dressing was a mix of uncooked garlic, onions, and capers. Strange but good.

I head back to the maze and soon find the American works again—rooms and rooms of great works. Night Hawks and American Gothic attract crowds. I liked a Whistler painting I have only seen in books: a misty harbor. My back is better after lunch, but I know the pain will return. I head to the O’Keeffe show as I am in the right location. This does not disappoint. I did not realize she had done paintings in NYC before the more well-known Southwest-themed work and that the lines in the more famous paintings can be traced to her paintings of NYC buildings. I also did not know that Batman Animation was hinting back at her works for the view of Gotham.

I next found the famous Japanese wave print, which was smaller and brighter than I knew. After that, with my back pain increasing, I headed to the German Arms display. Yes, swords, halberds, and mail filled multiple large rooms with two knights on horses jousting. Lastly, the gift store where I picked out something for a friend at a slight discount.

The walk to the Palmer House was mercifully short, and I could rest and nap for a while. Gino’s East was calling me. I rose and found another ten-minute walk was in order. I headed out and found the less polished parts of Chicago to reach the pizza. There, I got a table, and Spinach Margherita was recommended by the hostess and my waiter. I got 1/2 meat and half Margherita to go with my local lager. A proper pizza, deep-dish, and baked solid was delivered to my table, and the waiter gave me the Margherita first. It was bright and a perfect mix with the heavy crust. The cheese is baked but still stretchy. The meat slice was good, but the ham seemed underwhelming compared to the first slice, not as great. Either is good, but the Margherita was a marvel. I would order just pepperoni next time instead of meat. Often, this makes for a near-perfect deep-dish pizza. The pizza was excellent. I took two pieces back and will heat them for dinner on Monday. The executive level has a microwave and tables at which to sit.

It is Mexican Independence Day (15 September), and there is a mass of cars flying flags dressed out in Mexican and other country flags (some countries share the date, I learned) and colors. Soon the streets are choaked as the police coral the cars to some streets. Many honking cars and flags are waving as the roads grid-lock in Downtown Chicago. It is chaotic and loud, and fun. Nobody is unhappy, and the police, who explained this to me, are trying to slow the mess, but I can see they are smiling too. It is an extra-legal parade and party. A slow-moving and friendly riot. I only felt unsafe when there were some fireworks, as I could not tell if they were gunfire, but soon, they were safe again.

I was soon back in the room, reading and trying to sleep. The time difference is still hard on me, but I manage to sleep after midnight.

I rose before my alarm and was dressed by 7ish and writing a blog. Deborah said I need only ask for a coffee maker for my room, yes! But I still had to go without coffee on Saturday in my room. I was dressed and waiting for Deborah, who would soon appear in the lobby. We headed for the hotel restaurant; Deborah had a voucher. We chatted and had very supportive waiters who did not mind being ignored. They did supply us with almost unlimited coffee. I had a pile of bacon with two poached eggs and an English muffin. I have spaced what Deborah had.

Deborah had a 2-ish train to catch back home. We had limited time, and paying $30+ for a big-name museum for a two-hour rushed visit seemed a waste. I discovered the free Museum of Design, and that worked. We enjoyed the modern art (well, some of it) and some excellent modern paintings, which were pointed out by a desk person who had us turn around and see them. There was some across the street in the cultural center. The desk person then explained the building, the tours available in Chicago, and the displays. We took the elevator and started with the Paris and Chicago photo exhibit. We later found a room full of bowls representing the student debt crisis in the USA (something that appealed to Deborah and me).

We were running out of Deborah’s visit and headed to Elephant and Castle, a British-style pub (a local chain), after my phone got us turned around a few times. We ordered pies for lunch. I went with a bubbly Diet Coke, as I think my colon was reacting to too many salads. There were no accidents but a close call at the hotel earlier. 

(At this point, I lost my connection and was forced to use an other editor)

After lunch, we walked to the Amtrak station and arrived forty-five minutes early and then another ten to locate the waiting area. I saw Deborah connect with some nuns and a college student all headed back on the Wolverine, the name of the train. I headed back to the Palmer House. I was already at 9,000+ steps for the day and could use a nap.

I enjoyed the day’s warmth without winds, and the town is quieter on non-work days. I rested and read in my room on the 23rd floor, 258. I also collected some caramel corn and chocolate-covered almonds at the train station, and I munched on them. Deborah kept me up-to-date, and she was fine on the train. 

I dressed in my suit and soon out the door for my evening. I had got a few hours of sleep, at best. I decided on the German place nearby as it was on the way to the Lyric Opera, which was not in the theater district but mixed with all the banking buildings. I think it was there first. Susan was my waiter, and I found a small table. Soon, I was supplied with locally made German-style Dunkel beer; I went for a smaller glass (it comes even in liters) as I wanted to be awake for the opera, Rigoletto, tonight. This is the song you, dear reader, will know here. I went with the cheapest seat in the theater (still about $100 with all the extra charges). 

Susan, my waiter, discussed the menu and decided on the Hungarian Goulash, which I also make, but with spaetzle instead of mashed potatoes. I don’t make spaetzle. It was good, and it had more pepper spices than I used. It did not have the ground rye seeds I am used to using. I think mine was better, but it was good to try it and compare. Also, my tastes are still off from the surgery and the resulting thrush infection. Still, it was great, and Susan gave me coffee to finish with and helped me enjoy the opera. 

I met a couple from the UK at the German place who were popping down by train from visiting relatives in Michigan. We agreed that the USA trains are disappointing but cheaper than the UK trains (something I did not know about). They would be headed to the art museum on Sunday. I recommended, the guy was a retired Royal Navy, the U-boat at the Industrial Arts, too. 

The Lyric Opera House was five blocks away, and my dress shoes and stiff legs and hips were a challenge that I rose to. As I got closer, I noticed that the dress style was becoming more formal. I was feeling better about my clothing choice. It was opening night for the opera!

The place was packed. The crowd was visibly excited and an even mix of younger and older people, something I had not seen before for an evening show. My seat was the last row on the first balcony and about the same distance, or even shorter, as my more expensive seat on the second balcony a few months ago in New York City’s Met. The sound was great, and I could not read the distant translation except for a few words. I could watch the stage or read. I decided to just enjoy the show and only tried to read once in a while. The leads and action were excellent. The staging was minimal and less than I used to, but I think it worked. The chorus was terrific, and the singing was as good as it gets. I am a poor judge, but the audience seemed to love it, too. 

I was happy to have spent the evening at the opera. The walk back was fifteen minutes or longer, as my pace was reduced to a stiff walk. The street crowd consisted of skin-showing young people, middle-aged folks in formal wear from various evening weddings, or older folks in suits and nice dresses. The hotel was rocking with the bar full and the speakeasy closing. I found my room, got in my PJs, and could not sleep as it was too early (my two-hour time difference caught me). I finally slept and woke up often. I am tired this Sunday and stiff.

Thanks for reading.