I am not a morning person. Really. I mean it. I'm not chirpy and joyous in the AM. I'm blech. Blech awaiting an injection of caffeine.
So, I can't for the life of me figure out why I thought a morning flight from Newark to Chicago was a good idea. And, worse, I thought I would wake up EXTRA early and take the subway from Brooklyn to Penn Station, get on a New Jersey Transit train and then transfer onto the airport's monorail system. This was not a good vacation plan.
Yet, tired as I was when I landed at Midway airport late morning on Friday, I was determined to hit the tarmac running. I quickly checked into the beautiful, hip (but not enough to hurt) Monaco Hotel, and then made my way to N. Michigan and Randolph to the Chicago Visitor's Center to pick up a man. Russ to be exact. He was my tour guide from Chicago Greeter, a city program matching volunteer tour guides with hapless tourists - like moi.
We took a brisk walk through the Loop district of Chicago with Russ enthusiastically pointing out the sites and sharing a bit of local history. First stop: Millennium Park - not terribly historic, but most definitely a magnificent site. The centerpiece: the Frank Gehry-designed Jay Pritzker Pavilion (pictured above), a breathtaking, modern concert venue with an intricate woven metal trellis extending over gorgeous green lawn. I suddenly wished I had a picnic - and a symphony orchestra. We meandered for about an hour - even peaking into the shrouded Christmas windows at the original Marshall Field's, scheduled for unveiling the next day.
By the time I bid Russ adieu, I was really, really tired. But, I convinced myself that the problem was that I simply needed a drink - a cocktail to be exact. (At least it was a much better idea in comparison to the whole early morning flight concept.) And, so I headed over the river to one of Chicago's most lauded Mexican eateries, Frontera Grill. I grabbed a seat at the well-tended bar, and was immediately tended by the very dapper David, a bartender who came complete with a gift for shaking Margaritas and a dandy mustache which he meticulously curled up at the ends.
I placed a food order before the kitchen closed and awaited my lunch selection - Uptown Texas Chili - cubes of pork and Crawford Farm lamb simmered with ancho chile, cumin, beer and white runner beans; topped with aged Jack cheese and onion, served with house salad and homemade tortillas for making soft tacos. David nodded with approval when I ordered. I nodded with approval when the plate arrived (see picture below).
I imbibed and ingested. Now I was officially exhausted. I had to sleep. I wandered back to the hotel, attempting to note points of interest - most especially watering holes - on the journey. I had to get the lay of the land (aka bar scene) before my partner in crime appeared later that evening. My pal Bonnie was in route to the Windy City and she would expect no less than an evening of great food, great libations and great gab once she arrived.
Yeah. A nap sounded like a really good idea. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
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