Saturday 12th October 2019

It is half ten in England, but half four here in Chicago. The sun is shining, though it is chilly.

Our body clocks are screwed, it goes without saying.

Last night, after writing, we went out to a Mexican place for dinner. Was great, so we thought, and the various cocktails were fab.

We went back to the room as rain was hammering down, so I was able to watch the England game. Which was dreadful, and England lost despite scoring a penalty after three minutes.

So it goes. So it goes.

I missed the last ten minutes, and went to bed and soon fell asleep. The rain fell outside and drunks did drunken things at all hours.

We were up at five. It was still dark, but the trains at Waterloo East had begun to run.

We had showers, got dressed and went down to check out, then over the road to the station to the taxi rank.

And there were zero cabs.

None.

EEK!

We went back down to the street and I flag one down. He was another great driver, lots of chat as he took us over the river and down various side roads to avoid the climate protests who have blocked Whitehall.

We arrive at the station at quarter to six, get out tickets and have ten minutes to chill before it glided out of the station and into the early light of dawn.

We get off at terminal 3, go up in the lifts and check our cases in with no fuss. And go through security in a few minutes.

No drama.

We find a place to have breakfast, we were so hungry it was crazy, we had eaten dinner just ten hours before. But hey.

That done, we do some window shopping and we get split up. But in such situations, we just use common sense and both go to the gate once its called. Jools was there, and boarding had begun, so we could walk straight on and to our seats, with an empty locker above us. Which we filled, as cameras take up space!

We settle in, and once the plane has roared in the air, I get the laptop out to do some writing for the previous post.

The plane was a 787 Dreamliner, and has windows that the pilots can dim, so views out have a colour cast. There must be a reason.

The food is good. And there was a fine selection of films: I see Lego Movie 2 and Inside Out, both good. I start watching The Right Stuff, but we had begun our descent into O'Hare.

We get off, and immigration is now mostly automated, and we were through in ten minutes.

Baggage took somewhat longer, as Jools' bright yellow case was last off. We just had to find the driver for our transfer. But he wasn't there.

90 minutes passed, and still no driver. Jools was beginning to feel unwell, which made matters seem worse.

I was then going out to the taxi rank, when a black guy asked us if we needed a cab.

We did.

He would charge us %68, which was the going rate, but it was clear he wasn't a licensed driver. We shouldn't have gone with him, but we did.

He took us to the freeway, then towards the commercial district, down the ever more crowded freeway, with the massive scrapers making a solid skyline to the left.

But they got us to the hotel, in one piece, and they didn't murder us. Which was nice.

As we walked into the hotel, Jools had to hold back a barf, and so we were quickly checked in, and poor Jools is asleep now, but has colour returning to her cheeks.

But we are here, and later, I meet a friend.