Rediscovering America

The first week of travel was not ideal: a bout of gastritis, travel sickness, bad sunburn and persistent jetlag. The downsides of travelling. But it’s great to be out in the world. We arrived in San Francisco, 8am local time, about two weeks ago. After waiting a few hours in the hotel lobby for check in we finally made it to bed, around 4am home time, for a few hours’ snooze. After our nap we went and had dumplings for a meal that in a jetlagged haze felt neither like breakfast, lunch or dinner. We’d forgotten how expensive San Francisco is, and generally how expensive America is increasingly becoming. Our dumpling feast came to $150AUD for two people. The day before I left Sydney I ate a similar meal with two friends for $75AUD. Cost creeps up on you in the US. The menu says your little box of xiao long bao is $14 but then the bill comes and the tax and tip is piled on. Then you convert the $US to $AUD and suddenly you wish you hadn’t ordered so many dumplings.

Having been to SF a few times before, this time it was a pleasant reprieve to not feel the need to see the sights. We only stayed 3 nights, mostly just to get over the jetlag and visit Smuggler’s Cove, a famous tiki bar and eponymous title of an indispensable book of cocktail recipes, tiki history and rum. We spent a fun night sitting at the bar, watching the bartender knock out 10 or more drinks at once, inside the dimly lit nautical themed room filled with hanging glass-blown puffer fish and other kitschy but fantastic decorations.

We also spent a day with one of Dylan’s work colleagues, who picked us up from our hotel and drove us down to San Mateo for lunch. We went to Wursthall, a German-American restaurant from chef and food writer J. Kenji López-Alt. We’re big fans of Kenji and have a bunch of his recipes in our dinner plan rotation (Swedish meatballs and Chinese beef & broccoli being the faves, in case you were wondering) so it was fun to be able to visit his restaurant.

Then we left SF for Chicago. Arriving in Chicago feels like coming home. Despite not having being there for more than 3 years, it felt like things hadn’t changed. Not in a bad way, like it’s stuck in time and nothing is new or interesting, but in a good way - like nothing bad has evolved. You can rely on the familiar rattle of the L, the turquoise river flowing under the rusting bridges, the towering skyscrapers reflecting off each other, all still here, unchanged, as I remember.

During our first week in Chicago we met up with a current colleague of Dylan’s who we hadn’t seen since we were last there. We went for drinks at Rick Bayliss’ bar Sótano and then dinner at his restaurant Frontera Grill. On the weekend we also met up with a former colleague of Dylan’s that he worked with when he lived in Chicago, and his wife and son. We spent the morning at the Lincoln Park zoo. I’m not sure who enjoyed the animals more - their 16-month old or me. I bought a new zoom lens before leaving Australia to have for our Galapagos trip in October. It’s a Sony 200-600mm: it’s big and bulky and I felt sure I’d resent lugging it around but after seeing how well it could capture animals at the zoo, I am very excited to be able to have it for the Galapagos.

During our second week in Chicago, Mum and Brian arrived so I spent the week being a tourist with them during the day while Dylan worked. We took a river architecture cruise, learning all about Chicago’s history, which is so intertwined with its architectural history. The Great Fire of 1871 burnt down much of the city, and the subsequent rebuild, along with the city’s hosting of the 1893 World’s Fair created the perfect opportunity to redesign and rebuild a new city.

And thus, today’s Chicago was born - with its perfect grid, the world’s only river running away from its mouth, hundreds of parks, the first skyscrapers and all those that came after it. The architects honour those who came before with contextual architecture, allowing each new building to reflect (in some cases, literally) the ones surrounding it, and so although built decades apart they sit together, along that river and lakefront as if they were designed together at the same moment in time.

We also explored the city on a gangsters and ghosts walking tour, learning about the rise and fall of Chicago’s notorious gangster Al Capone and the unheard of tragedies that killed hundreds of the city’s poor. On a hot afternoon, we took the L north to Graceland cemetery, a beautifully scenic burial ground with tombs and headstones dating back to the 18th century. The Palmer family are buried there; Palmer was a businessman responsible for much of the development of State St in downtown Chicago. Its intersection with Madison Street has marked the base point for Chicago’s grid address system since 1909.

On the less educational side of things, we also walked the Magnificent Mile, reflected on the city and ourselves at the much-loved Bean, enjoyed a swim in our rooftop swimming pool, and tasted all of the requisite Chicago foods like deep dish pizza, Chicago dogs and Italian beef (the latter recently made even more famous by the release of the phenomenal new TV show, The Bear).

One of the dining highlights of the week was our experience at The Aviary, a swanky cocktail bar operated by the Michelin-starred chef of restaurant Alinea. We had a 5 course cocktail and food pairing. The stand out was the zombie panda - a zingy and potent punch of pisco, lychee, lemon and tiny ice balls made of frozen raspberry liqueur. Its recipe appears simple but it is deceptively so because the process to create it is nothing short of complex.

On the Friday afternoon we left Chicago to go stay in Cincinnati to visit our friends Eric & Whitney. Eric drove 5 hours to Chicago to pick us up and then the 5 hours back to Cincinnati. Once out of the city limits, that beautiful skyline behind us, we crossed the state border, leaving Illinois and entering Indiana. We passed through Gary, a completely dilapidated town, all shop windows boarded up, homeless on the streets, a scene too sadly recurring across the continent. Cruising along the Interstate from one end of Indiana to the other, we drove through endless cornfields, the flat plains stretching in all directions. We skirted around Indianapolis, watching a scene typical of middle America go by with anti-abortion billboards, American flags flying from front lawns, Trump 2024 posters and gun advertisements. And a lone wind farm. Not everything’s all bad.

During our time in the US we heard a repeated sentiment from all our friends lamenting the state of things in their country. They’ve considered emigrating, escaping, but this is home, and as one said, perhaps they have a responsibility to stay, to vote to change things, to make improvements for their childrens’ futures.

We arrived in Cincinnati at 8pm, picked up Whitney then went straight to dinner at a winery/restaurant called Henke. After 27 years in business, the owners had decided to retire and it was their final dinner service. We feasted on sparkling wine, french onion soup, spaghetti meatballs and tiramisu, celebrating their local restaurant and our reunion.

After dinner, tired and buzzed, they dropped us off at our hotel, the Graduate, located in the University of Cincinnati, a little out of downtown. It was much cheaper than a downtown hotel and a fun place to stay in the University precinct with its funky decor, coffee bar and lively lounge area. On Saturday we hung out at Eric’s place and he invited people over for barbecue, firepit and outside games for the night. After a sleep in on Sunday we saw the city’s sights, went to Kentucky for lunch, came back across the river to Ohio for a walk then went back to Kentucky to get the car.

Months ago, they secured a reservation for us for dinner at Sotto, Cincinnati’s best restaurant and voted in the top 100 American restaurants in 2019. I went with the most talked about item on the menu, the short rib cappellacci, which was delicious and we all had the famous ricotta donuts for dessert, which were as life changing as the reviews promised.

On our last day, Monday, Dylan worked and I caught up on photos and blogging before we headed over to Eric and Whitney’s place for a home-made dinner and our last night together. I no longer get very excited for sightseeing. There are some things to be seen that’ll make it on a list, but for the most part, the enjoyment of good food with good company tends to be the highlight of most of our experiences of travel these days. After pasta alfredo and a few rounds of darts, we got an Uber back to the hotel to pack and get to sleep.

Now, I’m sitting at Cincinnati airport, finishing this post off, waiting for our flight to New Orleans, via Atlanta. We’ll rendez-vous with Mum and Brian in NOLA and enjoy the food (and sights) of the Big Easy.

We’re in the last of 8 boarding groups to board the plane and so we’ve been told we have to check our roller carry-on. Mine is full of my expensive and heavy camera gear. I tried to tell them I can’t check it but no luck; I now have to awkwardly carry my camera, zoom lens, laptop and iPad on the plane in my hand while my empty suitcase gets checked. And as luck would have it, I ended up sitting between two obese people, landing a little over an hour later with my clothes, and their arms, stuck to my skin. I hate flying.

I have a love-hate relationship with this place - it infuriates me on so many levels, but it is also uniquely gratifying in so many ways. But I fear it could be a matter of time before America becomes a place we’ll no longer visit. But for now, we are here.