Monday 14th October 2019

Start of the week, and we're living in five star luxury overlooking Michigan Avenue here in Chicago.

We both went to bed before ten the night previously, and so we were both awake at about five, laying in bed watching the light traffic cast shadows on the ceiling of our room.

And another packed day ahead, this time with added art.

We get up at six, and its still dark outside, but the traffic is jumping and horns of the cars are a honking.

Welcome to the working week.

We were up, showered, dressed and waiting in line to Starbucks by half seven, another spiced pumpkin latte was good enough for us, but we had to sit outside again as there are so few chairs to on inside. I feed the small family of sparrows with left over granola, and they are very happy with that situation, each carrying away their sugary nugget of food into nearby trees to try to eat.

We walk down Michigan, over the Chicago River, past row upon row of impressive classical skyscrapers, and Trump's penis extension of a building. It is a vulgar and classless thing, which makes sense.

Down Michigan, until we reach the park near to the museum, where we turn inland to find a place for breakfast. We come across an independent coffee house, have two Queen Bee coffees, vanilla honey roast or something. Is nice, but sweet.

After drinking and eating, we walk back to Michigan, cross over and go into the park to hunt for the Sky Gate, a huge silvery bean shaped sculture that is very reflective. I hoped to be early enough so there would be few others about.

Some luck.

Everyone's a photographer these days, but the poor shots I take are more than made up (yeah, right) by the look of joy on the people around me's faces, as they try to take shots of the clear blue sky and huge buildings reflected in the sculpture's surface.

I take shots from all angles, but the truth is, none are that good.

Anyway, I spy some kind of area just beyond with sweeping, arcing supports for lights, that might be a winner? I snap that too.

There is a walkway leading to the Institute for Art, so we take that, it gives views of the railway line into the city, though it does seem to have just two working lines, but I do snap a double decked train arriving, its clanging bell announced its arrival long before the train was seen.

We were due to meet Mark and Abbey "at" the institute, but no actual description of where, exactly. So much to my surprise, there were two main entrances. I hope they will go to the one on Michigan.

So, we sit on the steps and hope we will see them at ten.

Jools does spot the sign for the start of Route 66, we had asked several locals including a policeman and none of them knew wheere the sign was. But we founds it, precious.

Mark and Abbey arrive, and we join the quickly lengthening line to buy tickets.

Twenty five bucks each is what it costs, once the doors open and we had shuffled to the front of the line. We had wanted to see one piece of work, Nighthawks by Edward Hopper. We scour the guide and find where it is, we just struggle to match the building with the map. We do manage it, and walk up the stairs and find the room, and the first work we see is Nighthawks.

It is an iconic piece of American Art, over familiar, but to see it in the flesh, as it were, is wonderful. The composition, the way the light plays from three points on the scene makes it seem 3D. A few yards away is American Gothic, and iconic piece, and with no one else looking at the two stylised figures in front of their barn. Although it turns out the models were the artist's sister and his dentist.

We look round the late 20th century art, and it is dazzling.

Back on the ground floor we hunt for works my stained glass artist, Marc Chagall. We find his three windows, all blue, set side by side. They are stunning.

I snap them.

In the lower level, there is a gallery of Islamic Art, which is stunning, and hardly anyone else visiting.

Finally there is a photography gallery. And being a photographer, we go to have a look, and spend an hour looking at the faces from the Great Depression. Harrowing stuff, gaunt and scared faces look back at us over the decades.

With that, we leave the museum, walk over Michigan again on the hunt for lunch. We find a pub, which was very busy and loud, but the food looked good. We get a corner booth, and are presented with the menu and I order a porter, which is pretty good if I'm honest.

BBQ burger was good too, and I went from being hungry to over-full in twenty minutes.

After eating, we go back onto the street and walk under the L to the river, then back onto Michigan, walking among the shoppers and other tourists to the hotel.

And on the side of the busy street, we have to say goodbye to Mark and Abbey, as they were heading back to Deyton in the morning. We have had them with us for the best part of two days, and it has been a real joy. It was a sad parting.

Jools and I went back to our room to chill out for a while, before it was time to go out for dinner.

Now I like burgers, ribs and steaks as the next guys, but it is playing havoc with my digestion, so we seek out an Italian restaurant that did good vegetable dishes.

I have asparagus salad followed by vegetables in a ragu, washed down with prosecco.

Lovely.

And now we are back in our room, trying to stay up for another 50 minutes, in the hope of sleeping until after six in the morning. We have two more days in Chi Town, which means lots more to see and do.