Still my kinda town
I'm sat at Chicago's O'Hare airport waiting for my flight to New York. My windswept other half managed to get on her flight out of Bermuda to New York, so we will meet up around lunchtime at our hotel in midtown. With 8 weeks to go to the baby due date, we are loooking forward to one last hurrah in the city and then on Sunday we are going to take a leisurely drive up through the Hamptons to New Haven in Connecticut where Monday we have tickets to see the tennis
I had a terrific time back in Chicago and am sad to leave it again. Last night I might have overjoyed myself a little too much judging by what time I got to bed, but this mornin
g at 5.30 when I was looking bleary eyed at the clock, I reassured myself it was good retraining for being a Dad again.
I spent a lot of time walking Chicago's wide streets as I promised myself I would, I walk hardly anywhere in Bermuda. I stood and admired the now completed Trump Tower
(photo right), I ate in some great restaurants with some great mates, I window shopped my heart away and strolled around my old neighbourhood in River North remembering why I was so keen to live there in the first place. The only downside to the whole week was walking around my old apartment and trying to figure out how a 28-year old female laywer could live like like a tramp. My place was disgustingly dirty.
But the city was just how I recollected it, the stunning secret it always was. I just wish that Chicago wins their 2016 Olympic bid
and can share with the rest of the world what I already knew.