Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Someone and I had a blissful 36 hours in Chicago alone, thanks to Nana and Papa Leopard. We stayed in a charming hotel in Wicker Park.
When we arrived, Someone had a work, so I read in their lounge/coffee shop/bar, which was mid-century modern hipster bliss. (Technically I had to work to, but it was such great stuff I was reading, it doesn't really count as work.) (And had a $5.50 cup of tea, which is the priciest I've ever had.) (But after the highway I survived on the way in, I needed it.)
Above: A picture from the rooftop bar where our cocktails that were so niche that the descriptions meant nothing to me and the bartender had to translate, and where they lit the clove inserted in the orange peel on fire before serving me the drink. The bar was so hip that Someone and I were among its oldest clientele, which was a really disorienting experience for us.
The morning views from our room.
That night, after some great Indian food, we also went to a Dostoevsky short story that was made into a play, which, although it was dark, we really enjoyed. And they encouraged you to buy a beer at the cheap little bar in the center of the four stages and bring it with you to the performance. That led to some ill-timed laughter, but was overall wonderful.
The next morning: Kidless mass, coffee and donuts, brunch, Hull House, fast food Thai, the Art Institute, and then a drive home. More pictures to come.
Posted by Emily Hale at 9:05 PM