Completely alone on the 10am train heading out to the suburbs. Hattie is taking a self-guided tour of The Loop and I’m leaving the metropolis in search of architectural genius in Oak Park, the home of Frank Lloyd Wright. I excitedly join a tour of his house and studio but am devastated to discover that my memory card isn’t in my camera. Torturous. Still, photos of this house would never do it justice. Vaulted ceilings, hidden entrances, stained glass, culminate in the children’s play room: a space that soars above the straits of the Victorian home.
Hours pass in Oak Park and finally it’s time to head back into town. Evening is spent on the shore of Lake Michigan, alongside a steady stream of joggers and cyclists. Navy Pier turns out to be Great Yarmouth with an incredible view. By the time we finally track down a subway to take us home my feet have almost given up the ghost. Still no jazz, but an opinion-changing deep dish pizza for dinner.
To The Table 