Refections — 9 Years Later

It is now 2025, and I find myself deep in the process of breathing new life into my old travel journals. Chicago marks the fourth volume I’ve lovingly expanded and rewritten. What began as a simple task of tidying up my New York notes has blossomed into a deeply personal project. As I sit with these pages, I am struck by how much these memories have ripened over the last ten years.

Looking Back On Chicago

Time is a strange thing; some days, our time in Chicago feels like a lifetime ago, and yet on others, it feels like it happened just last week. It only takes one "new memory" notification on my phone to bring it all back. I’ll open a grainy, "rubbish" photo, and suddenly the sights, sounds, and scents of the city come flooding back, carrying a weight of emotion I didn't expect. Even those sweltering, humid days don’t seem so bad now—they were just the pulse of the city. We haven't been back, and while we don't have plans to return, it’s only because there is still so much of the world left to see when the moment is right. My life looks different now; mobility has become a real challenge. But that doesn't mean the journey is over—it just means I need a more detailed plan. Having a disability shouldn’t mean the end of adventure; it just means finding a new way to navigate it.

Extra Stories And Insights

It might seem unusual, but I still keep a close eye on Chicago. When sleep evades me late at night, I find comfort in watching the local news. Because of the time difference, I’m tuned in just as the city is waking up or winding down. There is a strange peace in seeing those familiar streets and realizing that life there carried right on after we left. One thing that truly warms my heart is seeing that gun crime has been trending downward since our visit. It feels good to know the city is becoming a safer home for the people who live there.

Travel and Accessibility

If I’m being honest, Chicago isn't the easiest place to navigate from an accessibility standpoint. While you can roll onto any bus, the "L" trains are so concentrated in the centre that reaching the outer neighbourhoods by bus can feel like an eternity. Not every station has a lift, and those that do—especially the ones underground—often serve as makeshift toilets. It’s heartbreaking and frustrating to encounter such conditions in a public space. The elevated stations are even more of a puzzle; you practically need a degree in logistics to navigate The Loop, transferring between lifts and platforms just to go a few stops. While I hear they are making slow improvements, the system still feels like a barrier rather than a bridge.

The Changing Skyline

The city has physically transformed since 2019. Looking at Google Maps, I barely recognise the block across from Wrigley Field; the old McDonald’s and its massive parking lot are gone, replaced by a wall of modern bars and restaurants. The stadium itself looks much the same on the outside, but the interiors look so much brighter and more welcoming in photos. I can only hope they fixed the cramped, one-way bathrooms!

Then there is the "606"—the Bloomingdale Trail. It has truly come into its own. The trees have grown tall enough to offer real shade, and the wildflowers have turned that three-mile stretch into a stunning green ribbon connecting neighbourhoods. High-rise projects that were once stalled are now soaring toward the clouds in glass and steel. Even the River-walk, which used to lead to nowhere, is now a bustling hub of activity. Still, I can’t help but wonder if the people serving the food there can actually afford to eat there. And I often wonder where all those plastic police horses ended up—the ones that lined Michigan Avenue back in 2015. I’m sure they’re tucked away in gardens now, each one holding its own secret story.

Rediscovering Memories Through Writing

It’s amazing to see how these journals have evolved over the last year. Originally, I just wanted to fix my spelling mistakes and fill in the words I’d missed—writing was never my "strong suit," if I have one at all! But that small spark turned into a desire to create something beautiful on my blog. I used to "hack" together some basic code to make it work, but it was never quite right.

Now, with the help of AI, I can finally build the vision I had in my head a decade ago. It’s incredible how fast technology moves; tools that didn't exist three years ago are now part of my daily life, even on the free versions I use. For me, this is about creating a legacy—a memory that grows as I do. Who knows what the next ten years will bring? Maybe the journals will change again. I never imagined there would be an audio version of my stories, yet here we are. These words and photographs are what get me through the times when I am physically unable to travel.

Of all the experiences, one moment still shines brightest: that evening at Buckingham Fountain with Jane. The lights, the music, the water soaring into the night sky — and the quiet joy of sharing it together. Ten years later, that memory remains vivid, untouchable, and deeply precious.

Chicago 2015 will always be a chapter we can return to — not just in words, but in feeling. And as I look ahead, I know there will be more chapters, more places, more memories waiting to be written. This journal is not just about where we went; it’s about who we were, who we are, and who we’re still becoming.

Dedication

To Jane —

my partner in every journey,

my compass when the path is unclear,

and the reason every memory shines brighter.

This journal is for us:

for the laughter in the heat,

for the challenges we overcame together,

and for the quiet moments that became the most precious of all.

And to all fellow travellers —

may these words remind you that every trip is more than places and photos.

It is the people beside you, the stories you carry home,

and the memories that grow richer with time.

Con 24‑12‑2025

Afterword — My Thoughts On This Trip

Looking back on those two weeks in Chicago, it’s striking just how much a city can shape a holiday. This wasn’t just a trip where we ticked off attractions; it was one where we genuinely felt the place — its rhythm, its contradictions, its charm, and its rough edges. Chicago revealed itself as a city of two halves: moments of excitement and beauty sitting right alongside the harsher realities of big‑city life.

One thing we couldn’t ignore was just how violent the city can be. We knew that before we went, of course, but nothing quite prepares you for the nightly news feeling like a rolling report from a conflict zone. I’ll never forget hearing one police officer say, “You can understand them killing each other in gang warfare… but when you start killing the kids, something has to be done.” It was a sobering reminder that behind the skyline and the sunshine, real people are living with real fear.

But that’s only one side of Chicago. The other side — the one we experienced every day — was full of life. Baseball games under a blazing sky, long walks along the lakefront, the constant hum of the L trains, the energy of the Magnificent Mile, the quiet corners of parks and churches, the unexpected kindness of strangers. All of it left its mark. This journal isn’t just a record of where we went; it’s a snapshot of what the city felt like — its atmosphere, its quirks, its personality.

The hotel was lovely, even if our view wasn’t of the skyline. And truthfully, I don’t think we’ll be rushing back anytime soon — not because we didn’t enjoy it, but because we managed to see almost everything we’d hoped to. Chicago gave us a full experience, and it feels right to let it sit as it is for now.

There are still so many places in the USA calling our names: Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston… and of course, a return to New York City someday. And San Francisco — well, that’s a place that never really leaves you. I can easily see us wandering those hills again before too long.

We won’t be travelling in 2016, partly because of how my holidays fall and partly because it makes sense to save for the next big adventure. But we’re grateful we managed two trips to the States this year — something we enjoyed immensely.

Now that the journey is over, what remains are the memories: warm summer nights, odd little encounters with interesting people, the satisfaction of a trip that went smoothly, and the feeling of discovering a city properly, not just skimming its surface. Somewhere else in America will call us eventually — it always does — but for now, Chicago 2015 sits clearly in our minds, preserved in these pages, ready to revisit whenever we want to relive it.

And so, the Chicago vacation of 2015 comes to an end.

And so, with Chicago now safely tucked away in memory — its heat, its noise, its beauty, its chaos, and all the moments in between — we turn the page on this chapter of our travels. The bags are unpacked, the stories are written, and life at home begins to settle back into its familiar rhythm. But the road always calls again eventually, and when it does, we’ll be ready — passports in hand, curiosity intact, and hearts open for whatever the next journey brings.

Until the next adventure — Philadelphia, 2017 — I bid you farewell.

Jane & Con 2015

Sunday 6th — Arrival At Heathrow & The Journey Home

Breakfast was a quick, bleary‑eyed affair — the kind where you’re barely awake, shovelling food down because the cabin lights have snapped on and the crew are already marching up and down telling you to buckle in for landing. The six‑hour time difference always plays tricks on you coming home; the summer night outside lasts all of five minutes, which is probably about the same amount of sleep I managed.

Arrival At Heathrow, The Journey Home

We touched down right on time, and for once the universe decided to be kind. Customs took all of fifteen minutes — practically unheard of in the UK — and our bags were among the first off the plane. After the endless wait we had last time, it felt like winning the lottery. Our taxi driver was already waiting outside arrivals, ready to whisk us home.

The drive from Heathrow to Gosport is about an hour and a half, and at that early hour the roads were blissfully quiet. We expected to be home by around 9:30 a.m. The moment we stepped outside, though, the cold hit like a slap. After two weeks of Chicago heat, England felt absolutely bloody freezing — even if it was supposedly warming up again soon.

Walking through the front door always brings that strange mix of comfort and anticlimax. The house had that faint damp, shut‑up smell it always gets when we’ve been away, so the first job was throwing open every window. By then it was only about 10 a.m., and I was running on fumes. I don’t usually suffer too badly with jet lag coming this way, but after being awake for well over a day, I desperately needed sleep.

While I crashed out, Jane headed off to do some shopping. When I eventually surfaced, I took advantage of the empty fridge to give it a proper clean — thrilling stuff, but oddly grounding after the chaos of travel. And then, of course, it was time for my traditional Sunday afternoon pint down the pub. After a long holiday and an even longer journey home, that first drink back on familiar soil always hits differently.

Moments like this are exactly why I’d booked the next couple of days off work. The thought of going straight back in on Monday would have been unbearable. Having until Wednesday to recover, unpack, and gently ease back into normal life felt like a small gift to myself.

And now, after roughly 34,000 words of this journal, it’s time to gather my thoughts and try to sum up what this holiday — and Chicago itself — really meant to me…

Time to leave

So, that was it — two full weeks in the Windy City done and dusted, and we’d enjoyed every minute of it. Now came the part I always dread: the final pack‑up and the long journey back to the airport. I don’t know why, but once you start heading home, the magic of a holiday just seems to evaporate instantly.

Blue Line Blues

First job of the day was catching the Red Line from Clark & Division, and this time we were smart enough to change at Jackson Street — much easier for transferring onto the Blue Line.

The Blue Line, being the only one that actually goes to the airport, is absolutely hopeless when it comes to luggage. There’s no space for cases, barely any space for people, and the layout is so awkward you end up constantly shuffling out of the way for others trying to get on or off. To make things even more confusing, the doors open on different sides at different stops, so you’re forever second‑guessing where to stand. Still, we made it in one piece, which felt like an achievement.

O’Hare International

Our flight wasn’t until 3:50 p.m. (9:50 p.m. UK time), but with long‑haul flights you really do need to be there three hours early. And with trains, you never know when someone’s going to jump under one or cause some other drama that throws the whole timetable into chaos.

After wrestling the bags — strapped to the wheelchair — into a tiny lift, we finally reached check‑in at about 11:30 a.m. Getting rid of the big cases always feels like winning half the battle. There wasn’t much to do before security, so we headed straight through. Being Labour Day weekend, most travellers had already gone wherever they were going, so there was no queue at all. The security woman did have a little moan because I’d put something on top of the laptop in the tray instead of giving it its own, but I’m sure she’ll recover.

Once through, the stress kicked in and all I wanted was a beer. Naturally, the bar was as far away as physically possible, but needs must. Then came the challenge of killing three hours — made worse by the fact that O’Hare doesn’t offer free Wi‑Fi in the main waiting areas.

Killing Time Airside

You get thirty minutes of Wi‑Fi if you’re willing to sit through a two‑minute advert first. So the plan was: thirty minutes on the tablet with a beer, then off to McDonald’s for a burger (same price as in the city, surprisingly). After that, another bar, another drink, and another thirty minutes of Wi‑Fi on my phone. If I’d needed more, I’d have had to break out the laptop or use Jane’s tablet and sit through the advert again.

In the end, none of that mattered. After our drink, we realised the departure gate was practically in another time zone — it felt like a three‑mile walk. By the time we got there, they were already boarding first class. The one pleasant surprise was the plane itself: clearly an older aircraft, so it hadn’t been refitted to cram in as many seats as humanly possible. This must be what economy plus used to look like.

Flight Through The Night

These next bits are taken from the blog I wrote while actually on the plane. We only had one pair of headphones between us, so watching anything together wasn’t an option. The seat‑back screens didn’t work on this aircraft either, though you could stream to your own device — but only while flying over land. Not that I cared; I was happier writing anyway.

17:00 Central Daylight Time

We’re now somewhere over Canada, sitting in economy plus by the window. Definitely better being squashed next to someone you actually know. This plane has two seats on each side and three in the middle, so we’ve lucked out compared to what it could have been.

On the flight out, we were in full “cattle class,” which was awful. When the Muppet in front reclined their seat, there wasn’t even enough room to squeeze past the armrest to get out. No wonder they give you free beer — you need it just to cope. This flight is still better than Virgin Atlantic, but only just. At least the return journey is an hour shorter.

18:00

They’ve just brought the food around — if you can call it that. It’s always something involving rice, isn’t it? You’d think it would be impossible to mess up rice, but plane food always finds a way. The smell alone was enough to put you off.

Next time, we’re definitely buying proper sandwiches airside and skipping this stuff entirely. The only edible thing was a tiny cracker with a little pot of cream cheese.

Hopefully they’ll turn the cabin lights off soon so all the annoying people go to sleep and it’ll finally quieten down.

22:00

Now the cabin lights have dimmed and a hush has finally settled over the plane. People have stopped wandering up and down the aisle and rummaging through the overhead bins for that “essential” item they could easily have kept in a pocket. Like most flights back from the US, this one runs overnight, letting the time difference work in your favour — nobody wants to land in London late at night.

Time does strange things when you’re flying through the dark. Maybe it’s just me, but sleep never comes easily up here, so I end up watching whatever films are playing on the tiny screen in front of me. As you drift along at 37,000 feet, it’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that the world below is racing past at nearly 600 miles an hour, carrying you back toward the familiar rhythm of home.

I’ve said it in previous journals, but it’s always around this point in the journey that my thoughts turn to what’s waiting on the other side — the routine, the work, the everyday life you left behind. The holiday is over, but there’s a quiet optimism too: the sense of future plans forming, and the promise of the next adventure somewhere down the line.

Reflections On The Day: The Long Goodbye & The Slow Drift Back to Reality

Departure days always have a strange energy about them. You wake up knowing the adventure is over, but you’re not quite home yet — stuck in that limbo between holiday magic and everyday life. Saturday had exactly that feeling. The bags were packed, the room was stripped back to its bare hotel‑room self, and Chicago — loud, bright, chaotic Chicago — suddenly felt like it was already slipping into memory.

The journey to O’Hare was a reminder that travel days are never glamorous. Wrestling luggage onto the Blue Line, dodging people, doors opening on random sides of the carriage — it all felt like the city giving you one last nudge of its trademark disorder. But there was also a sense of familiarity in it, like you’d finally learned how the place works just in time to leave.

Airports always amplify whatever mood you’re in. The relief of dropping off the big bags, the mild irritation of security staff, the desperate hunt for a bar, the endless walking to a gate that feels like it’s in another postcode — it’s all part of the ritual. And with the Wi‑Fi rationed out in thirty‑minute chunks, time seemed to stretch and fold in on itself, the hours passing both too slowly and too quickly.

Once on the plane, though, everything shifted. The cabin dimmed, the noise settled, and the world outside turned into a soft, dark nothingness. There’s something oddly peaceful about flying overnight — the hum of the engines, the glow of tiny screens, the quiet shuffle of people trying to get comfortable. Even without sleep, there’s a stillness to it. A sense of being suspended between two lives.

Somewhere over south east Canada, with the ground racing past at 600 miles an hour, the reflections started to creep in. They always do.

Thoughts of home, of routine, of work waiting on the other side. But also the good stuff — the memories made, the things seen, the laughs had, the little moments that stitched the whole trip together. The optimism of future travels, even before this one has fully ended.

Saturday wasn’t a day of sightseeing or excitement. It was a day of transition — the gentle unwinding of a brilliant holiday, the slow return to normality, the quiet satisfaction of knowing you’d made the most of your time. And as the plane carried you through the night, Chicago already felt like a story you’d be telling for years.

A fitting end to an unforgettable trip.

Oak Street Beach & The Mag Mile

Today was our last full day here in the Windy City. The temperature, like the humidity, had actually gone down by quite a lot today, which was a relief, but it was still lovely and pleasant. So, we thought we would start by walking up the road to Oak Street Beach, which is only

Oak Street Beach

about a fifteen-minute stroll from the hotel. There were already plenty of people out enjoying the beach when we got there, although I wasn't too sure how warm the water itself was in the lake! Looking back from the beach into the city, most of the tops of the tall buildings were covered in cloud at the moment, which seemed to be swirling around them quite dramatically.

Mag Mile Mooch

To Early For The Beach Bar

After sitting in the beach area for about forty-five minutes, we walked down a little bit further along the lakefront but couldn't really be bothered going into the bar right there on the beach – shame that was, it looked quite nice. So, we cut back under the motorway and got back onto the top end of the Magnificent Mile, where we went for a coffee. Even though we'd been along this stretch of road before, we hadn't actually ventured inside the many shopping centres that line it.

The first one we decided to explore had security guards who looked exactly like Canadian Mounties in their uniforms, which was a bit unexpected! One thing that really bugged me about this particular place, though, was that if you tried to go in the main entrance, you either had to walk up a whole load of stairs or use the escalator, neither of which was any good for Jane at all.

Because of the lack of accessible entry, we had to come back out again and go around the corner into Macy's instead, just to use the lift in there to get inside. Once inside, it was quite good having a look in the Lego shop at all the amazing things they had made out of bricks.

The 900 mall

After that, it was time for another cup of coffee before we headed back out and crossed the road to another shopping mall called '900 Shops'. Don't be fooled by the name – there definitely aren't 900 shops in here; it's just called that because of its address. They even had a Christmas shop that's open all year round, which was a bit odd in September! This place was very upmarket though, which probably explains why there was hardly anybody else in it.

Fourth Presbyterian Church

From there, we went next door to the Fourth Presbyterian Church. It looks quite odd nestled in amongst all these towering tall buildings, almost looking small and tucked away from the outside. But once you step inside, it's surprisingly big and feels incredibly grand. I think it's one of the most impressive buildings in this whole area.

After spending some time looking around in the church, we walked for a bit, just looking at more of the very high-end shops – you know, the sort with literally just 'one handbag in the window'! We then got on the bus heading down the Mag Mile and over the Michigan Avenue Bridge to visit a couple of the more high-end gift shops.

'Bye-Bye Chicago' is one of the best ones along there; they have loads of unique things you don't normally see in other shops. However, as you'd expect, they definitely come at a price! I can't even remember exactly what I bought now, to be honest, but I know I've got them all safely in a box at home somewhere!

Chilling Around the River

After grabbing a sandwich from the shop, we caught the bus back over the bridge. Even though it was only just one stop, it took us right to where there was a pop-up market going on, which was handy. There are loads of places to sit around here and just soak up the atmosphere, and you get a wonderful view of the iconic Wrigley Building from this spot, which is where the chewing gum originally came from, apparently.

One Of Many Pocket Parks

WGN Radio also has its offices right here on the bottom floor corner of one of the buildings, so you can actually see right into the studio while they are on air broadcasting, which is quite interesting to see. There was one of the stalls at the pop-up market that was giving away free tote bags with a choice of different logos on them, so Jane patiently queued up to get one of those. After that, we just had a casual walk around the plaza area here for a bit.

Free Tote Bag

It was time for something else to eat now (always hungry!), so we got back on the bus and travelled up the road for about half a mile or so. We then cut through some side streets and went into McDonald's for a burger. They do this rather odd thing where they offer a cheeseburger meal, but you actually get two double cheeseburgers with it – I'm not sure why, but there you go!

Bus Ride Rage

From there, we cut through even more side streets until we came out onto North Clark Street and managed to catch the number 22 bus back towards the hotel. We almost missed it, but thankfully, the driver waited for us, which was good of her. Once onboard, there was this really annoying old bloke sitting near the front, talking incredibly loudly on his phone. To make it even worse, he sounded exactly like Elmer Fudd from the cartoons, which was just grating.

After we had gone a couple of stops, the driver then waited for a woman who was running for the bus with a kid in a pushchair. As soon as she got on board, as kids often do, the little one started crying really loudly. So now you had a screaming kid adding to the noise, and this bloke still shouting down his phone because the person on the other end clearly couldn't hear him anymore over the din.

He then, rather foolishly, started having an argument with the mother of the kid, actually telling her to "shut it up," which was definitely the wrong thing to say in that situation! She immediately started shouting back at him in a voice that sounded like Big Momma from the movie. To me anyway, some of the locals here sound like they could be from Texas when they talk, but you are in the Midwest, so you can probably imagine what it was like.

Personally, I'd much rather listen to a screaming kid any day than someone shouting down a phone like that. In the end, the bloke gave up on his phone call but certainly not on the argument. He actually said to her, "I hate screaming kids," and she instantly shot back, "So you hate my baby!" And thus it continued back and forth; they were still trading remarks and insults when we got off the bus further up the road. Honestly, after all that commotion, I was half-surprised that nobody ended up getting shot, as they do seem to be a bit trigger-happy around here!

Last Evening Stroll

After that eventful bus journey, it was just a short walk back to the hotel to start packing some things up ready for the morning. By about 7 pm, though, we thought we'd head back out for a last walk around the shops just down the road near the hotel. This area was really starting to get properly busy by now. Not only was it Friday night, but it was also the start of the Labour Day weekend, with Labour Day itself being on the Monday, and thousands of people tend to head into cities like Chicago for it.

It's also, rather grimly, apparently when gun crime starts to pick up around here. I remember reading that at the same time last year, a shocking nineteen people were shot and killed in the city over that three-day Labour Day weekend. It's a pretty sobering thought when you're walking around.

Anyway, trying not to dwell on that, we dropped into Walgreen's for a last look around. And, as luck would have it, we found a couple of those classic USA flags that you always see everybody waving on TV. At just 99 cents each, we absolutely had to buy them! The slightly annoying thing was that we then had to walk all the way back up the street again specifically to buy a cardboard tube to put them in, just to make sure the sticks they're attached to wouldn't get broken or snapped on the flight home.

We then took a leisurely stroll back towards the hotel on what was still a warm and busy summer evening. The cicada bugs weren't making anywhere near as much noise now that it had almost gone dark, plus I think their noisy three-week cycle in the trees was starting to come to an end anyway.

All in all, I think this had been a really good holiday. We couldn't honestly have wished for better weather than we had had for the majority of it. It was time now to get back to the serious business of doing some more packing. It turned out we had bought more bits and pieces than we originally thought we had, plus the two hoodies that I got took up a fair bit of room in the bags. It was a bit of a squeeze getting it all in, to be honest!

We even ended up having to dump the bottle of shampoo and the soap that we had bought just to make space. On top of getting everything to fit, we also had to constantly think about how much weight was in each bag, because if you go over 24 kg, they charge you extra for it, and that certainly isn't cheap!

Reflections On The Day: Beaches, Bickering & the Bittersweet Last‑Day Shuffle

Friday had that unmistakable “last full day of the holiday” feeling — a mix of wanting to squeeze in just a bit more exploring, while also realising your legs, your bags, and your energy levels are all very much ready for home. The drop in temperature was a blessing, and Oak Street Beach was the perfect gentle start. There’s something magical about standing on warm sand with skyscrapers looming behind you, their tops swallowed by swirling cloud. Chicago does dramatic weather better than most cities.

The wander back onto the Magnificent Mile felt like a victory lap. You’d walked this stretch plenty of times, but dipping into the shopping centres gave it a fresh twist — even if the accessibility situation left a lot to be desired. The Mountie‑lookalike security guards were an unexpected bonus, and the Lego shop was a fun little detour. The “900 Shops” mall, with its year‑round Christmas store, was peak Chicago eccentricity. And the Fourth Presbyterian Church, tucked between glass towers like a Victorian time capsule, was a reminder that even in the most modern cities, history still finds a way to stand its ground.

The afternoon around the river had that lovely, relaxed last‑day vibe. A sandwich, a pop‑up market, a free tote bag, and the Wrigley Building gleaming across the water — simple pleasures, but exactly the kind that stick with you. Watching the WGN Radio studio through the window felt like peeking behind the curtain of American media, and the whole plaza had that easy, summery buzz.

Then came the bus ride. Of course it did. Chicago wasn’t going to let you leave without one last slice of public‑transport chaos. Between Elmer Fudd shouting down his phone, the crying toddler, and the mother who absolutely was not going to be told to “shut it up,” the whole thing descended into a full‑blown soap opera on wheels. You could practically hear the theme tune. It was chaotic, loud, and mildly terrifying — but also very, very Chicago. And the fact that nobody got shot felt like a small miracle.

The evening stroll was the perfect way to round things off. The city buzzing with Labour Day weekend energy, the slight edge of danger in the air, the last‑minute impulse buys at Walgreen’s, and the triumphant acquisition of two classic American flags — all very end‑of‑holiday behaviour. The cardboard‑tube mission was peak practicality, and the cicadas winding down for the season added a strangely poetic touch.

Back at the hotel, the reality of packing hit hard. Souvenirs multiply when you’re not looking, hoodies expand to twice their size, and suddenly you’re playing luggage Tetris while muttering about weight limits and airport fees. Dumping the shampoo and soap felt like a necessary sacrifice to the travel gods.

But underneath all that, there was a quiet satisfaction. You’d had brilliant weather, seen everything you wanted to see, eaten well, explored widely, and experienced the city far beyond the tourist façade. You’d wandered beaches, parks, neighbourhoods, and shopping districts; you’d seen art, architecture, baseball, fireworks, fountains, and the odd argument on public transport. You’d lived Chicago, not just visited it.

Friday wrapped the whole trip up perfectly — warm, lively, a bit chaotic, and full of character. A fitting end to a holiday that had been exactly the same.

The 606

So, today it was time to start taking things a bit easier, as the temperature was still going up and up. This morning, it was already 35° with 80% humidity by 10 am, and after almost two weeks of this kind of heat, we were really starting to feel it taking its toll. We had only planned on walking some of the 606 track, which is an old disused elevated railway line that they've turned into a linear park, running for a few miles east to west.

Challenging Travel

Under The Tracks

So, off we trotted to the bus stop to get the number 70 bus, which must surely get the award for the most unreliable service on the planet – or maybe just Chicago! We then had to change buses partway, and I have to say, this wasn't the best part of town to be hanging around in at any time of day; I'd heard there had been plenty of shootings there in the past.

But what did surprise us was that even in what seemed like a pretty bad area, they had a small fountain in the middle of a little square, surrounded by really shoddy-looking shops. However, the water was actually clear, the fountain was working, and it wasn't full of coffee cups or rubbish, which was a pleasant, if unexpected, sight.

After that, it was time to wait for the next bus, standing out in the heat. There wasn't much shade around the bus stop either, although thankfully it was only about a fifteen-minute wait. By the time the bus arrived, the heat felt almost unbearable, so it was a massive relief to finally get on board into the air conditioning, even if the ride itself was only for about twenty minutes.

The 6-O-6

606 Trail Map

So, off we got from the bus and walked up onto the 606 track. By now it was midday, but even though the sun wasn't exactly blazing, the heat felt incredibly oppressive with very little shade to be found anywhere along the way.

The 606 had only opened a couple of months ago, and it's what's known as a linear park. Much like the High Line in New York City, it follows the route of a disused elevated railway line for almost three miles. While I generally find these sorts of places fascinating, it was still a bit sterile along here, as the plants haven't really had a chance to grow in properly yet.

No Plants Grown Yet

I also think a bit more thought could have been put into the different types of paving they used. Maybe something a bit more interesting, like retaining some of the old tracks or sleepers and letting plants grow through them, or even having the old rail lines somehow embedded into the surface. But, given the temperature today, the main thing was that there were thankfully lots of drinking water fountains along the route, which was definitely a much-needed bonus!

After only about thirty minutes of walking, we decided this wasn't going to be a good idea at all. It was simply too hot to carry on, which was probably why we had the trail pretty much entirely to ourselves for the most part. It was definitely time to turn around and head straight back the way we had come. I'm not sure how many times we ended up filling up the water bottle we had brought with us, but I was incredibly glad we had it!

One of the interesting things I did notice while we were up there was the elevated railways that run between the buildings not far from the 606, like the Blue Line that crosses from the airport into the city. Even though we were about twenty-five feet up in the air on the 606, the Blue Line must be above you at about forty feet up! As everything up there is made of steel, the noise it makes when a train goes past is incredibly loud. It must be a real pain living in some of these apartments around here, some of which are very close to the tracks, as the trains run pretty much twenty-four hours a day most days.

Peckish Parking Lot Lunch

Back near the bus stop, there was a large Aldi superstore. We decided to head in there, partly to cool off from the heat and partly to get something to eat. I have to say, the Aldi's over here are a lot better value than the ones back home. We ended up getting a giant pack of thinly sliced ham that must have had about a hundred slices in it and a litre of lemonade to wash it down with, all for about $5 – plus tax, don't forget the tax! Even having to queue behind a mother and daughter who had a mountain of shopping, an equal amount of coupons (some of which had expired!), and then didn't have enough cash to pay wasn't going to deter us from getting our hands on our lunch. 

Parking Lot Lunch

We also discovered that lemonade here isn't the fizzy sort we get in the UK; it's more like a still, slightly sweet drink. I could honestly drink this stuff all day long if they sold it back home, it was lovely and refreshing in that heat! So, there we sat in the parking lot, in the only tiny bit of shade we could find, eating our ham and washing it down with lots of that lemonade.

After our impromptu parking lot picnic, it was time to head for the bus stop just across the street. We ended up having to wait about thirty minutes for one to turn up, and I'm pretty sure the same few people were still waiting for it when we got back there again later! After a few stops, a woman got on the bus, but before she sat down, she got out a bag and carefully placed it on the seat first.

We found out exactly why she did that a few stops later. That was when a man got on who smelled like he had been dead for a few months – honestly, it was that bad. You could literally see on it everyone's faces around us just how awful the smell was, and the only thing going in our favour was that the inside of the bus wasn't hot. The other strange thing was that he just stood there in the middle of the bus near the doors until the driver eventually told him to sit down. Everyone onboard was clearly very glad that he didn't stay on for many stops! This whole incident is how what we've now dubbed the 'bus seat bag' was born – you just assume if he smelled that bad, then the seat definitely did afterwards!

Back at the fountain in "bandit country," we crossed the road to wait for the number 70 bus back towards the hotel. Luckily, there was free Wi-Fi in this area, so I could use my phone to check the bus tracker and find out it wouldn't be too long to wait. It was only about 3 pm by now, and on the way back on the bus, we noticed that there was a really large Target superstore only a few stops away from the hotel. Since we were due to get off right by there anyway, we thought that would be a good place to go and have a look at later on tonight. But for now, it was time to get off the bus, pop into CVS to get some cold tins of beer and a paper, and head back to the hotel to get out of this humidity for a bit.

Target Trip

After a couple of hours cooling down back at the hotel, we headed back out to get the number 70 bus up to Target. Even though I'd checked online that the bus was due, we and many others ended up having to stand around waiting for a while. I'm pretty sure that because they were all running late on this route, they just sneaked off out of service down other roads or something, I reckon. Anyway, one did turn up eventually, and it was only about a ten-minute ride up the road to the shop.

I Want One

We've never been inside one of these places before, and honestly, they seem to sell absolutely everything you could ever possibly want, apart from actual fresh food, it would seem. This particular one is built up on legs, so the car park is underneath it, and then you go up one floor in a lift to get into the store. Once you're inside, you immediately realise just how vast it is; even the security guard has a little three-wheel electric buggy to zip around on! They literally have everything in here, but what we were specifically looking for was a baseball mitt.

We had been looking around in a few other shops for one, but they either didn't have the right kind or they were ridiculously expensive. Neither of us are planning on actually playing baseball, obviously, but it was just something that we wanted to have as a bit of a souvenir, and you definitely don’t see them very often back home. Plus, I thought it would look quite good sitting alongside the baseball that we had already got earlier in the trip.

We Found One

It wasn't exactly cheap at around $40, but I thought it was worth every penny for what it was. We spent a bit longer looking around in here, but even though some of the clothing was reasonably priced, we were seriously starting to run out of space in the cases, so we just made do with getting the glove for today. By now, it had actually gone dark outside, so it was time to get the bus back towards the hotel.

Strolling Back

Perfectly Lined Up Produce

On the way back, we decided to pop into Plum Market, which is basically a posh supermarket where even the carrots seem to be stacked up perfectly neatly. Even though this place always seems to be busy whenever we go past, everything on the shelves is always absolutely perfect – honestly, how do they do it?!

Then it was just across the road to the China Doll takeaway for a half box of chicken fried rice and chips – a specific craving! – and then into the booze shop that I'd noticed on the corner for some cold tins of beer. At least with the food this time, there wasn't a huge mountain of it to get through, which made a nice change.

It was nice strolling back to the hotel on what was still a very warm summer evening. By the time we got back, it was about 9 pm and time to eat the food we had bought from the takeaway. Even though it felt like we hadn't actually done that much today compared to other days, we were both feeling really quite tired. But then, we had been pretty much on the go every single day for almost two weeks now, so it was definitely time to call it a day. Tomorrow was our last full day, and we still had a few things planned that we hadn't managed to fit in yet, but those would be for tomorrow.

My Growing Collection

Even though we hadn't managed to walk very far on the 606 line because of the heat, it had still been a good day overall. We got to see a part of the city that most regular visitors probably don't bother venturing into, and also observed some of the slightly more 'odd' people who live there, I suppose – like the bloke who was just fast asleep in the bus stop.

It's all just part of the rich tapestry of life, I suppose, but it really does give you a much better feel for a city when you see it like this, away from just the main tourist hotspots. It's something we try to do in pretty much every city we go to.

Reflections on The Day: Heatstroke, Ham Picnics & the Birth of the Bus‑Seat Bag

Thursday was the kind of day where the weather dictates everything. After nearly two weeks of relentless heat and humidity, the city felt like it was slowly trying to cook you alive. Even with the plan scaled right back to “a gentle stroll along the 606,” the temperature had other ideas. By 10 a.m., it was already 35°C with humidity thick enough to chew. No wonder the day took on a slower, slightly surreal quality.

The journey out set the tone: unreliable buses, sketchy neighbourhoods, and that odd Chicago contrast where even the roughest corners still manage to surprise you. That little fountain — clean, working, and not full of rubbish — felt like stumbling across a tiny oasis in the middle of “bandit country.” It’s those unexpected details that stick with you.

The 606 itself had all the ingredients of something brilliant — elevated views, a long linear path, the promise of greenery — but the heat made it feel like walking through a giant toaster. The plants hadn’t grown in yet, the paving was a bit uninspired, and the lack of shade turned the whole thing into a slow‑motion endurance test. The drinking fountains were the real heroes of the day. Without them, you’d probably still be up there, melted into the concrete.

Turning back after half an hour wasn’t giving up; it was survival. And honestly, the elevated Blue Line thundering past above your head like a steel dragon didn’t exactly make the place feel peaceful. You had to feel for the people living in those apartments — 24‑hour trains rattling past at window height must be enough to drive anyone mad.

Aldi was a welcome refuge. Cold air, cheap food, and the discovery that American lemonade is basically nectar from the gods. The parking‑lot picnic — ham slices and lemonade in the only scrap of shade available — was one of those wonderfully unglamorous travel moments that ends up being far more memorable than any fancy restaurant. And then came the bus ride… and the man who smelled like he’d been exhumed for the occasion. The collective horror on everyone’s faces said it all. Thus, the legendary “bus seat bag” was born — a travel innovation you’ll probably use for the rest of your life.

The afternoon was a slow shuffle back toward civilisation: more unreliable buses, more heat, and the promise of air‑conditioning back at the hotel. Spotting the giant Target on the way was a stroke of luck, and the evening trip there turned into a surprisingly fun adventure. Target really is America distilled into one building — vast, slightly chaotic, and selling everything except the one thing you expect (fresh food). Finding the perfect baseball mitt felt like a small triumph, especially after hunting for one all week.

The final stretch of the day — Plum Market perfection, a half‑box of chicken fried rice, a couple of cold beers, and a warm evening stroll back to the hotel — was the perfect wind‑down. Even though it didn’t feel like you’d done much, the heat had drained every last bit of energy. Two weeks of constant exploring will do that.

But this day, more than most, captured something important: the real city. Not the polished tourist version, but the everyday life — the buses, the neighbourhoods, the odd characters, the small surprises, the cheap lunches, the overheard conversations, the imperfect corners. It’s exactly the kind of day that gives you a deeper sense of a place. A reminder that travel isn’t just about the big sights; it’s about the texture of the ordinary.

And in its own sweaty, chaotic, slightly smelly way, Thursday delivered that perfectly.

Baseball & Buckingham Fountain at night

Today was shaping up to be a bit of a lazy sort of day, mainly because the big plan for the afternoon was heading to Wrigley Field to go and watch a baseball game. The Chicago Cubs were playing the Cincinnati Reds, with the game starting at one o'clock.

Wrigley Field Game Day

I think we ended up getting up at about 9 and then just walked around the corner to Dunkin's for breakfast. There's a really amazing variety of breakfasts you can get in there for less than a fiver, and that even includes a large coffee as well, which is pretty good value. It was nice just to chill out in there for a bit, and honestly, you couldn't ask for better weather than we had that morning.

So, at about 11:15, we crossed the road to catch the Red Line train north. This line drops you right at Addison Station, which is conveniently located just at the back of Wrigley Field. Although you start the journey underground, the line then comes out onto the surface and eventually onto the elevated railway tracks, hence the name 'L' trains. I had thought the train would be absolutely packed heading towards the stadium, but it actually wasn't too bad at all, and it's only about a twenty-minute ride anyway.

When we exited the station, that's when you really started to grasp just how many people were here for the game! There was a sort of makeshift market-cum-shanty town vibe going on outside, with loads of market stalls selling hats and all sorts of Cubs-related bits and bobs. They even close off some of the surrounding roads to stop people from getting flattened by the cars, the sheer volume of foot traffic is hard to believe! By now, it was nearly midday, so we decided we might as well head in and find our seats.

As luck would have it, there were staff members who worked there wandering about outside, offering help and pointing people towards the correct gate to go in. When the chap looked at our tickets, he said the gate we needed was actually on the other side of the stadium. However, seeing as Jane was on her sticks, he very kindly sorted it out for us to go in on the side we were already at and then got someone to come over and push her around to the other side in a proper wheelchair.

Once you get inside and underneath the stadium, it's sort of like being in a massive indoor market, absolutely crammed with all sorts of stalls selling Cubs merchandise and more food stalls than I've ever seen in one place! There are also about ten different places just selling beer as well, which gives you an idea of peoples priorities. Mind you, at $9 (£5.50) a pint, you definitely know you're not going to be having too many!

Game On

A Good Turn For An Afternnon

So, by about 12:45, we were settled in our seats on the lower terrace. Jane had a bit of a struggle getting up to the row we were sitting in, as the steps are quite steep and there weren't any handrails, but she managed it in the end, thankfully. This was actually the first time I'd ever been inside a big sports stadium like this before, and I honestly didn't think it would be quite this big inside, or go so incredibly high up! The view looking down is really steep, too. If you're sitting right at the back on the very top level, I'm not sure how you even see what's going on down on the pitch, but I suppose that's why those tickets only cost about six dollars! At least we weren't too far from the front, sat off to one side, and more importantly, we were in the shade.

Exspensive beer

As seems to be the case with all big sporting events in the US, they started off with the national anthem, so we stood up for that, which is more patriotism than I've ever shown back home, I reckon! Then the game itself started. These games do go on for quite some time; the average seems to be about three and a half hours, so you certainly get your money's worth. There were plenty of people moving about in the stands selling beer and food if you couldn't be bothered to get up and go and get your own, and it didn't even cost much more to buy it from them. I think I only ended up having a couple of beers in the end, though. It's not just the price that stops you from drinking too much; it's also the thought of having to walk miles to the toilet and then trying to find where I'd left Jane afterwards!

You Would'nt Want To Get Hit By The Ball

About two-thirds of the way through the game, in the seventh inning out of nine, they take a short break. That's when they usually put up the attendance figure on the scoreboard for everyone to see how many people are there today. Considering this was a Wednesday lunchtime, right in the middle of the afternoon, there were a staggering 31,165 people there! Most of them seemed to be local too. It really would appear that on game days, nobody in Chicago goes to work – and this was only the second of four afternoon games they were playing that week!

The game itself finished about 4 pm. A lot of people had already started to leave at the start of the ninth inning, as it was looking increasingly unlikely that today was going to be a win for the Cubs. But we decided to stick it out right to the end, as they still had a mathematical chance of winning if they could just pick up the four runs that were needed. Sadly, they couldn't manage it, and they ended up losing. This was the only game they lost out of that set of four afternoon games they played that week, though, so I suppose it wasn't too bad a result for them overall.

So Many People

I Don't Think People Work On Game Day

I think we got out of the stadium at about 4:20 pm, but we took one look at the train station and the sheer amount of people waiting and immediately decided it would be much better to wait a bit before trying to catch one. They had plenty of buses lined up outside as well, but the train was still our preferred option for getting back.

One thing I did learn is how incredibly well they manage the crowds and traffic around the stadium

The Bendy Buses Wait

after a game. There are loads of transit staff, police, and city workers all over the place. They stop the traffic completely so the pedestrians can cross the roads safely, and then they stop the people so the traffic can move again. The police essentially control the main junction, so you just ignore the traffic lights and follow their directions. Meanwhile, the CTA staff at the station make sure that not too many people get crowded onto the platform at any one time by temporarily stopping people from even entering the station area.

They also manage to queue the trains up on the line really efficiently, so as soon as one pulls away from the platform, the next one is pulling straight in. With each train being ten coaches long, they manage to move a massive number of people in a really short space of time. I'd say that after about an hour, there were hardly any people left around the stadium area at all, apart from the cleaning crews. Considering there were over 31,000 people in attendance, it's genuinely amazing how fast they all dispersed.

We decided to give it almost an hour before heading to the station, so we popped into the sports shop just across the road for a browse. While we were in there, I managed to get myself a Cubs hat that I hadn't seen the other day, – result! Then, it was time to head to the station, which was indeed really quite quiet by then.

We were back at the hotel by about 5 pm, so it was definitely time for a beer and, more importantly, a nap! I must say, I do like my naps in the afternoon – this heat really takes it out of you. We had plans for an evening out later, so a bit of rest was definitely needed.

Nighttime In The Park

The Fountain & City lights

As we'd only been to the baseball game today, tonight we'd planned to head back to Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park after dark, as it's all lit up at night, which sounds great. We caught the train down into The Loop, then got on the number 6 bus from outside the Chicago Theatre, which takes you right across the park, followed by a short walk to the fountain itself.

It's a very busy place here at night, and you can totally see why once the fountain is all lit up. It pulses along to music and a light show, shooting water up to a stunning 150 feet into the air! That water comes from the 193 jets located in the bottom pool, which is absolutely massive, some 280 feet in diameter. This really is a truly spectacular sight at night-time.

Ideal Distance For Navy Pier Fireworks

After enjoying the display for a bit, it was time for a beer in one of the two bars they have nearby on what was a lovely warm evening. This is exactly what holidays are made for! The added bonus for tonight was finding out that Navy Pier has a massive firework display every Wednesday and Saturday night at 9:30 throughout the summer months. So, we decided to hang around for that. Even though the pier is about a mile away, you're actually the perfect distance to properly appreciate the display.

A Perfect Evening With Jane

By about 10 pm, it was time to start thinking about heading back into The Loop – ideally before the gunfire started! We had a feeling this wasn't the safest place to be at night, and by golly, we were right. It had a distinctly sketchy feel about it after dark. The only place that was even open was a Subway sandwich shop, so we just grabbed a drink from there quickly. We had originally planned on getting the bus back to the hotel, but it seemed a lot safer to use the subway train instead, plus it saved walking an extra block in that particular area. It felt just a bit too far to walk north up to the top of the park where the south end of the Mag Mile is; that's a much better neighbourhood entirely. In short, at that time of night, the train felt like the best option out of bandit country.

And The Music Played While Having A Beer

So, after dropping into a shop near the station to stock up on some (essentials!) beer, we were back at the hotel for about 10:45 pm and settled in for some TV. It's not often that we're out and about that late, and there was absolutely no chill in the air at all; even at this time of night, it was still around 35°. At least it wasn't as humid in the evening, though, which was a small mercy. So, that was the end of another day. The time seems to be flying past now, but we've enjoyed it immensely so far, and you really couldn't have wished for better weather than we were having, even if it was a bit on the humid side most days.

Reflections On The Day: Baseball, Big Crowds & a Blast of Night‑Time Magic

Wednesday had a completely different energy to the rest of the trip — slower, more relaxed, but still packed with those little moments that make a holiday day feel special. The whole morning had that “saving our energy for later” vibe, and Dunkin’ for breakfast set the tone perfectly: cheap, cheerful, and reliably caffeinated. With the sun out and the heat already building, it felt like the ideal day for a ballgame.

The journey up to Wrigley Field was surprisingly smooth. You expect the train to be bursting at the seams on game day, but it was almost civilised. It wasn’t until you stepped off at Addison that the scale of it all hit you — the crowds, the stalls, the closed roads, the sea of blue shirts and baseball caps. It felt like walking into a festival dedicated entirely to one team. The staff were brilliant too, going out of their way to help Jane get to the right entrance without trekking around the entire stadium.

Inside, Wrigley Field was a revelation. You see it on TV and think you know what to expect, but the sheer size of the place takes you by surprise. The steepness of the stands, the wall of noise, the endless food stalls, the beer vendors weaving through the aisles — it’s a whole world of its own. Settling into your shaded seats felt like winning the lottery. And then came the anthem, the crowd rising as one — more patriotism in thirty seconds than you’d normally show in a decade back home.

The game itself was classic baseball: long, leisurely, and strangely hypnotic. Three and a half hours of sunshine, cheering, people‑watching, and the occasional beer. The seventh‑inning stretch revealed the astonishing attendance — over 31,000 people on a Wednesday lunchtime. Clearly, Chicagoans take their baseball far more seriously than their office jobs. Even though the Cubs lost, sticking it out to the final pitch felt like the right thing to do. You’d come all this way — might as well see it through.

Leaving the stadium was a masterclass in crowd control. Police, transit staff, barriers, whistles, hand signals — it was like watching a well‑rehearsed ballet performed by people in hi‑vis jackets. The trains rolled in one after another, swallowing thousands at a time. By the time you wandered back an hour later, the place was almost deserted. A quick browse in the sports shop and a new Cubs hat later, and you were on your way back to the hotel for that all‑important afternoon nap.

The evening was the perfect contrast to the daytime chaos. Buckingham Fountain at night is pure magic — lights, music, water shooting 150 feet into the air, all against the backdrop of a warm Chicago night. Add a cold beer and a surprise fireworks display from Navy Pier, and you’ve got one of those holiday moments that sticks with you long after you’re home.

Of course, Chicago being Chicago, the walk back reminded you that not every corner of the city is postcard‑perfect after dark. A quick drink from Subway, a tactical retreat to the safety of the train, and a dash through “bandit country” later, you were back in the comfort of the hotel with a bag of essential supplies (beer) and the air‑conditioning blasting.

It was still 35°C at nearly 11 p.m., but without the humidity it felt almost pleasant. Another full, memorable day — baseball, fireworks, fountains, and a little bit of urban adventure thrown in for good measure. The holiday was flying by now, but days like this were exactly why you came.