Yes I know there is a more famous song that goes Sweet Home Alabama, but the Robert Johnson track, more recently covered by the Blues Brothers, Sweet Home Chicago is more fitting as this my current stop.
I had decided to not come to Chicago due to extended stays in New York etc, but the way the trains worked meant I had 5 hours to kill in Chicago.
I left my luggage at the station and I paid by card, but the baggage attendants card machine froze and so I had to pay cash. Later I discovered that the card payment had actually gone through. Those of you that know me well can imagine that I was a bit annoyed 🙂 Don’t worry I have their number and will be calling them…
The first thing I noticed was that it wasn’t windy at all. In fact it was a balmy 6 degrees (centigrade), so much for the Windy City. I was lucky, though, as the snow storm is coming. 
Secondly this is the city of skyscrapers or ‘gratte ciel’ in French. They tower above you on all sides. The tallest in Chicago is the Willis tower, which just trumps the Trump tower in height ;). The top of it was just about lost in the fog.
There are signs outside most buildings warning of falling ice, I guess when a stalactite might drop on you from hundreds of feet up, descending at terminal velocity, like a dagger of ice from the heavens, it’s best to be wary.
As I walked I came across the famous elevated subway trains that feature in the French Connection with Gene Hackman and indeed the Blues Brothers movie.
The river is mostly frozen despite the weather being fairly clement and I spent a few moments trying to find the famous Billy Goat tavern, established in 1934. Unfortunately it was empty, brightly lit and rather like a glorified canteen, so I decided to go in search of more salubrious surroundings for lunch. In the end I grabbed a slice of famous Chicago deep pan pizza and a beer at a cosy place nearer the station.
There is the Jewellery row as well, packed with goldsmiths, silversmiths and jewellers of every sort. Home, it even appears, to the world’s youngest jeweller!
I also walked past several sets of traffic lights, my concern being that there are 5 lights! I am hiring in a car in St Louis, so this is something I should know about. Red, orange, green I’m with you, but what do the extra 2 lights do? I’m intrigued.
Now back on the train to St Louis for the last leg and another 5 and a half hours. This time my train is the Texas Eagle and goes all the way to San Antonio. No idea how long that takes, a couple of days I would think. It’s much of the same, although someone dares to try and sit beside me, before the conductor pops up and asks if we are together. When I say no, he thankfully shoos her off to another seat!
The conductors and staff on these trains are amazing. So down to earth and amusing, but taking no nonsense either. So much more than the ‘tickets please’ functionaries and jobsworths we are used to.
Then before I know it, we are here in St Louis. The streets are just about empty for a city and the vaccine pass requirements have disappeared again. In fact masks are a bit of a token gesture as well, hurrah – common sense is starting to prevail as I leave the city states and enter Missouri.
My hotel room is lovely and is part of a private club. Despite having paid for a couple of nights to stay at their private club, they seem to think that they will be levying a surcharge of 20% on their restaurant prices, as I am not a member. I ate elsewhere.
In fact I ate at the Bridge street bar and grill. 
They have so many beers on draught that I couldn’t get the line of beer pumps into a single photo. No only that, but they have a ladder that slides along the shelves, like in a library, where they climb up to get some requested rare or unusual beer.
Despite all this, I didn’t much like the first few IPA’s that they gave me as tasters, but I eventually found one I liked.
I also discovered that they have St. Bernadus from Watou in Belgium. This was a brewery owned by a friend of mine, Guy Klaus (yes really) on the Belgian/French border in Flanders. Although he sold it years ago now, I remember spending several enjoyable evenings there with another old friend Patrick, trying to make a dent in his beer fridge. Believe me, when that fridge is the personal beer fridge of the brewer, in his kitchen, it is an impossible task.
I have lots of lovely sightseeing planned for tomorrow and I am tired, dirty and travel weary, so goodnight from the gateway to the west.