I had texted Esther as I was leaving Duncan’s house, and she
said she could meet me at the Starbucks and go pal around Chicago for a day.
She had preparations for a wedding to complete that Monday before leaving for
Michigan on Tuesday. No matter, this was Sunday, her free day. I hadn’t seen
her since maybe July on the South Padre trip, so we spent a few minutes at a
table outside catching up. After I told her what I had in mind for that day, we
first had to park my car back at her apartment, then we walked a couple blocks
to get a 3 day unlimited pass for the El train, which proved invaluable in
getting around the city. This is how I found out what in the world a Jewel Osco
is: a grocery store.
After getting the passes, we walked up the stairs from
street level to the platform for the El station at Berwyn, facing a day of 75
degrees, pure blue sky and big white clouds over the city:
It was fun to ride the train to our first stop at Addison,
where the legendary Wrigley Field is located. I had wanted to stop there both
for Wrigley and for the memories made near there in 2010. I bet Erin and
Jessica had gotten a look inside Wrigley the week before, but they weren’t
playing a game and we hadn’t planned a tour, so we just got some pics of the
two of us and the Duckies by the famous sign:
Ok, memories: when some of us fresh, new analysts at
Comerica Bank went to this area, known as Wrigleyville, in August 2010, we,
well mainly I, had way too much to drink in the bars on Clark Street. That
night, something had upset me, and I’d left the group to do some thinking, and
it was on the steps of this Starbucks that I decided the thing I needed most in
the world was sobriety:
Where did I seek this most precious sobriety? Catty corner
from the Starbucks, at the Mickey D’s of course:
It was here that I was so out of it I nearly gave away all
my food because I was confused when picking up my order, and I nibbled
agonizingly slowly on the nuggets and fries for a solid hour until the fog of
drinking began to leave me. Whew! That’s why Esther took this picture of me
looking down Clark Street, as if to say, “This all looks very different in the
daylight…”
And yes, this is Wrigleyville by day; lots of bars and
restaurants along this one street. At night, it’s a frenzy of cars cruising
along and drunk people meandering on the sidewalks and sometimes in the street.
This was Sunday afternoon, so lots of the sports bars were showing football
games, in particular the Colts
playing the Bears at nearby Soldier
Field. Those fans were really into
that game!
We walked a few blocks down Clark, then over to the Belmont
station on the Red Line to head downtown:
Once we got off at Chicago and State, here’s the sign that
greeted us as an entrance to the section of the city with that name:
Given my love of tall buildings, the fact that for a long
time after Esther and I emerged from the subterranean El station, the camera
was pointed skyward:
Downtown Chicago is so vertical, I love it! And this was
just the start. Here’s more from our walkaround as we sought out more Starbucks
and whatnot in the Michigan Avenue area:
It looks like we came across a park with a statue and many
national flags too:
After going up a few levels of stairs, Esther and I arrived
at the spot where Michigan Ave. crosses the Chicago River, with all the towers
lined up along the south side:
Our destination lay below in the water: The Wendella Boat
Tours, like Vince Vaughn worked at in The Breakup:
But first, unexpectedly, Esther and I came across a certain
beloved pirate with a penchant for rum:
Those first two pictures were when I was trying to shoot
from the hip rather than pay him for an official photo. Another strangely
stingy time on a trip that literally had no budget…
We did eventually give in and put $2 in his hat and take a
couple of pictures with him, that are probably on Esther’s phone. He had all
the Jack Sparrow mannerisms down pat, and said he performed this act in Vegas
and other places around the country. He asked Esther her name like so: “What’s
your name, love?” and asked me, “What’s your name, mate?” Pretty fun encounter
overall!
For an early dinner, we ate at Pizano’s, which in my opinion
is the best authentic deep-dish pizza in Chicago. It’ll be hard to top it, that’s
for sure. Eating real deep-dish is a workout, it’s exhausting to power through
a layer of cheese, tomato sauce and crust that’s over 2 inches thick! Pizano’s
puts more cheese in each slice than Gino’s East, which is why I like it better.
It also has tons of Chicago Bulls/Michael Jordan posters and other memorabilia on the walls, which makes for the perfect visual surrounding. Esther and I had a great chat over that pizza, and really enjoyed the whole
experience; we ended up giving away the leftovers to someone on the street in
the middle of an intersection.
Now, readers, hear me on this – the Wendella Boat Tour is
one of the all-time tourism bargains if you love sightseeing, especially of
cityscapes like I do. It was $28 a person for a combined lake and river tour
which lasts over an hour. We paid, walked down to the boat, and waited briefly
while taking a few shots of the buildings and bridge above us:
Yes, the Trump Tower is very tall (1,300+ feet):
At about 5, tour set off, and though I listened to some of
what the guide was saying, I was constantly taking pictures of our surroundings
on the river as we headed toward the Sears Tower:
This was our excellent tour guide, who turned out to be from
Ireland:
He pointed out a ton of different buildings and facts about
them as we continued downriver, which is further inland not lakeward for
engineering reasons he told us about later. Soon we were in the area where the
Sears Tower is:
It’s true that I was unable to make the Sears or “Willis”
Tower, still America’s tallest building, look very appealing. I wasn’t very
savvy at photography yet, but the rest of the boat tour made me seem like a
better photographer than the first part. Near Sears, we did a full U turn in
the boat, and started cruising back upriver toward the lake:
This is Lake Point Tower, which is notable for being the only
tower built east of Lake Shore Drive:
What follows is a parade of pictures from the lake of the
Duckies and the beautiful Chicago skyline:
Our Irish tour guide told us quite the tale of how, back in
the late 1800s, the city leadership didn’t like how trash, pollution, and
sewage was being dumped into the Chicago River and dirtying up Lake Michigan.
They decided build locks at the entrance of the river, and reversed the flow to
where it goes inland, toward Saint Louis. St. Louis wasn’t thrilled about the
reversal, but Chicago sure was. That’s why, when the locks opened to let the
boat back into the river, we were steaming with
the current:
As the sun was setting over the skyline, my trigger finger
continued its persistent barrage upon the camera’s shutter button:
Saw some poor saps kayaking in the river:
I say “poor saps” because it was pretty chilly by the time
the tour ended. We had been cold for about thirty minutes by then; Esther was
wearing a warm vest, and I think I might have been in short sleeves and jeans
at most, so the wind out of on the lake really got me good! I just noticed I
accidentally caught someone in silhouette along the bridge in front of Trump
Tower:
So yes, it was a fantastic experience, well worth every
penny. Afterwards, we walked around the Michigan Avenue area some more, taking
more pictures of the architecture:
Looks like rows of torches doesn’t it?
That’s higher exposure and color balance for you. We found
some familiar writing on a wall:
That news was heard far and wide!
We stopped by the entrance to Trump Tower for a glam shot
featuring the Duckies:
I also had us walk down to Lower Wacker or Lower Lower
Wacker or whichever road below ground it was that they filmed some of the
action scenes from Dark Knight:
That was the scene where the Joker and his minions blow up
the cop convoy with a rocket launcher shot out of an eighteen wheeler. Anyhow,
we ended up in a sitting area near one of the bridges, and a homeless looking
guy approached us, selling postcards. He pointed to a woman nearby whom he said
was his wife. Esther was skeptical of whatever story he told us, but since the
trip had no budget, I gave him enough money to buy 3 Chicago postcards. I thought
they would make a cool souvenir. Esther said I was a better person for being
generous to this guy (I think his name was James?), but I disagreed, sometimes
I keep the wallet shut.
After that, I made war on a statue of George Washington,
trying really hard to properly expose it for a good photo. It didn’t end well:
Fresh off that defeat, we walked to Johnny Rockets nearby
for burgers, fries, and a thick chocolate milkshake; that incident is how I
found out that Esther is very lactose intolerant, as I successfully tempted her
into drinking more and more of the shake. The restaurant was close to the El,
and the famous Chicago sign:
Esther swore off the shake before we left, but without her
knowing, I snuck several extra straws into my bag after she threw hers away. I
revealed the extra ones as we were about to get on the train to go to her
place, where I stayed that night. She thought I was too conservative to stay at
a girls’ house…ha! Not true, evidently. She was half mad, half happy that I had
a straw for her to keep working on the milkshake. She paid me back later while
we were looking for parking, hence our joke of her needing to find “a guy who’s
worth hiding her lactose intolerance for”.
In the past 24 hours, my impression of Chicago had vastly
improved, to something like this:
