Chicago

Caroline was seriously looking forward to Chicago, and getting her hair fixed was only ONE reason.  The thing is, you read the guidebooks and they all say the same thing; Chicago is a VERY cool place.  

But not cool in a look-at-me-look-at-me way.  Chicago is not LA or Las Vegas.  Chicago just sits there waiting for tourists to turn up and then says, "You took your time."

Seriously, you should go to Chicago.  It's a city that should be filmed in Black and White.  A City Noir if you will.  You walk around the streets, amongst skyscrapers that pull your head back so you can take them all in.  

When you look at the city this way, without being distracted by billboards and cars and passersby,  with your neck craned ALLLLL the way back, you suddenly realise you're in the 1930's again and you can imagine men with fedoras and pinstripe suits, and women in mink with cigarette holders and sophisticated couples who drink martinis and solve crimes and femme fatales coaxing men into murdering their rich husbands and tough cookie news reporters who get the latest scoop and Irish cops who sound strangely like Sean Connery and plucky young lads who hero worship James Cagney…

...And then you walk headlong into a lamppost, so try not to take this idea too far.

But really, Chicago is a very atmospheric place, with its dramatic history in every shadow.  I should add hear that Chicago is a very shadowy city, because downtown Chicago is dominated by the elevated train that rattles and groans above your head on "The Loop".  The huge structure to hold the train casts shadows down the middle of the road, while the oppressive Fritz Lang “Metropolis” style skyscrapers block out the sun on either side. The result is the darkest, most atmospheric city I have ever been in, even when the sun blazes down in the height of summer, it's like stepping into a rainforest, only with more fire hydrants and less monkey shit.

Having said that, I got the worst sunburn of the entire trip in Chicago.  This was due to my inadvertently grabbing the tube of travel clothes wash that we used for our poopy undies and applying it to my face instead of the factor 30.  I only realised this after I got outside and noticed that I smelt of clean knickers.  Still, you're never in the sun long in downtown Chicago, I thought.  Unfortunately this would be the day that Caro decided to stop and watch some high school students doing African dances in a park.  One scabby and peeling forehead later, I was feeling rather foolish.

Caro and I were constantly repeating to each other, "This is just like the movies!"   

I should explain that this was our primary goal in visiting America in general.  

Perhaps this is something I haven't explained but I think all non-USA residents have a bit of a love affair with America, I know I do anyway.  Not because it's the Land of Opportunity, where the Streets Are Paved With Gold or that whole liberty and freedom  nonsense they’re always banging on about, it's purely because of the films.  Not even the Glamourous ones, although we do love those too.  We just love all of it, because we grew up watching EVERYTHING.  

I tried to explain this to Ann, our Chicago friend who we met in Australia.  I just love the streets, and the street signs, and the billboards, and the steam rising from manhole covers, I love the fact that they have "Dunkin' Donuts" and that we actually saw a policeman in there!  I tried to explain to Ann that we have had requests from people back home to eat one of those huge, heavy pizzas – ooh, and Chinese food out of little boxes, because THESE are all the things we know and love about America and sod all that Poor Huddled Masses malarky.