Abandoning in mid-stream, so to speak, though it reminds me of a urine sample, my attempt to detail the London trip, I must move on to Chicago while it, at least, is still fresh in my mind. How much can I say in the ten minutes available tonight?
Last Saturday we left balmy Texas for the frigid north. B and I arrived at O'Hare and delighted ourselves by finding a machine at which we could purchase CTA cards good for the next three days on all buses and trains. Wheeeee! We promptly took the train into town, then a bus (even going the correct direction) which dropped us off half a block from our hotel. Delightful. Hotel, built in 1913, was a little shabby but perfectly acceptable and offered coffee and tea in the lobby at all times, essential for rewarming ourselves when coming in from the cold. That day I think the high may have reached 9 F. Maybe.
So anyway, we checked in then went in search of pizza, which we found at a little place a few blocks from the hotel. Not bad at all, though it looked like roadkill in the cellphone picture that I sent to Z.
Not enough time for details, so for now, let me remind myself that I left Chicago even more in love with the music of Josh Ritter than ever before. (I'm reminding myself because I'm the one who reads this, self, in case you/I have forgotten)
1 comment:
Intruding on your dialogue with yourself for a moment, good to see you've resumed your travel tales despite the switch of location. Well done for getting the bus in the right direction, as certain people don't always manage that. Yes, "certain people" would be me. And is it very wrong that I thought the pic of pizza looked yummy?! LOL
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