Springtime in Chicago

Taking advantage of a beautiful, sunny spring Saturday in Chicago, I wanted to enjoy my first-ever full day in this spectacular city by simply walking around the area where I am staying.

Yes, you heard me right.  Chicago is another one of those places that I never got around to visiting.  And that's ironic, because I have connected through Chicago's O'Hare International Airport on my travels so often that the terminal complex there almost feels like a second home.

I've also attended two conventions in Chicago, but both were held in suburban hotels near the airport so I didn't get into the centre of town -- except for one night, when a group of us rode the subway into the city, walked a block to a restaurant, had dinner, and then retraced our steps back to our airport hotel.  That, obviously, doesn't count.

I recognize that by this time many of my readers probably got here before me, but on the off-chance that someone didn't, I decided to go ahead and do up this post anyway.

The hotel I am staying in this weekend is called by the distinctly odd name of "theWit" -- and yes, that is exactly how they spell it.  The property is now franchised as a Doubletree (part of the Hilton portfolio of hotels) but maintains its own distinctive look and feel.  As you can see by the key card folder, where you get not just that eccentric name but cover art which looks like a scene from Angels in America.

The hotel also has a distinctive, not to say weird, architectural feature slashing at an angle across the State Street façade -- and it goes right through my room.  Okayyyyy….

Outside the window, and being careful not to shoot a picture through that yellow glass, you get a classic Chicago panorama spanning well over a century -- historic buildings, modern buildings, city traffic, and the "El."

The El (short for "elevated railway") is as much a signature of Chicago as the cable cars are of San Francisco.  At the time it was built, elevated railways like this were all the rage in major American cities, but Chicago is the only city in North America to keep a substantial network running in its downtown area.  The tracks go in a loop right around the perimeter of the central district, following four different streets (and here shown running along Lake Street).  And that's the reason why downtown Chicago is always known as "the Loop."  Underneath the tracks, the traffic continues flowing along Lake Street and cars continue to park along the sides of the street.

To truly experience Chicago, you have to be standing underneath the El while a train rumbles by overhead.

Every major city has its own distinctive way of making life hell for visiting motorists.  Chicago's specialty is a distinct shortage of street signs.  You roll up to an intersection and presto! -- four corners and not one street sign on any of them.  You, the driver, are of course supposed to know the entire street layout with all the names before you even get here.  Or else, there's a sign naming two blocks of the street in honour of some local dignitary, but no sign giving the formal name proper to the street.  Hint: leave the car in the garage.

Chicago is definitely a major city for public art, and I saw a number of examples.  A few blocks southwest of my hotel is the City Hall, and in the nearby Richard Daley Plaza is this iconic, towering sculpture by the famous artist Picasso.  It was unveiled in 1967.  I wasn't there at the right time of day to get a good well-lit shot, so I borrowed this picture from the internet.

A block away from my hotel is the Chicago River.  Although it nominally flows into Lake Michigan, in practice it has been dammed and tamed to allow water to be transferred the other way, from the Great Lakes via a connecting canal into the Mississippi River system.

One landmark along the river is this distinctive twin-towered condominium complex (is there any kind of barrier to keep those cars from backing out of the garage???)

Along the shore of the river lies the Chicago Riverwalk.  It's not quite as photogenic as its opposite number in Fort Lauderdale, but still a good place for a stroll.  Or it would be, if sections weren't closed for repairs.  Sigh.

In Chicago, historic skyscrapers rub shoulders with their more modern counterparts.  Consider these, two and in particular the ornate Gothic top of the Tribune Tower, home of one of the major local newspapers, the Chicago Tribune.

The eastern edge of the downtown area is marked by the blocks-long green space of Grant Park.  At its northern end is Millennium Park, and here you can find this group of structures.  The focal point of my visit was the white building, the Harris Theater, because my nephew's dance company, Gauthier Dance from Stuttgart, Germany was performing there.

The white structure you see is the entrance, including the box office.,  The rest extends downwards -- one storey down to the upper balcony seats, another storey down to the lower balcony, three storeys down brings you to the orchestra level.  But this too slopes steeply downwards towards the stage, so by the time you hit stage level you are about 5 floors deep under the ground.  Weird.

Those odd shapes to the left of the theater building are the back side of the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, an outdoor performance stage space with room for thousands of people to sit on chairs or on the huge lawn behind the chair seating area.  Looks kind of like a cross between a vast robotic insect and an alien spaceship on a collecting mission.

Nearby, this flowing sculpture is actually a footbridge across Columbus Drive to the eastern segment of Grant Park, right on the shores of Lake Michigan.

Just west of the Pritzker Pavilion, the Millennium complex is rounded out by the Cloud Gate, by now almost as well-known as a symbol of Chicago as the Eiffel Tower is of Paris.  I just think of it as "the Bean."  It's fun to study the reflections on its endlessly curving surface and try to find yourself.

Of course, it's much easier to find yourself with a selfie.

Nearby are two facing visual artworks, each comprised of a wall of glass bricks.  Behind each brick are dozens of LED light sources of varying colour intensity.  The net result is a giant-sized portrait painted in a million points of light.

On a more classical artistic note, south of the Millennium complex you can find Chicago's Art Institute, one of the world's great art museums.  The standing bronze lions guarding the front steps have been a favourite meeting place for generations of Chicagoans ("See you under the lions at noon").

Although I saw a good deal during my walk, I'm well aware that there's so much more to see in Chicago -- and I have barely scratched the surface.  Well, that will give me a good incentive to plan a longer return visit, and I hope to manage that before too long.

Rolling Around the Rock Part 3: North to the World's End

This post is the third of a series drawn from a trip to Newfoundland

which my husband Massi and I made way back in 2006. 

For me, it was a return trip, but for Massi it was a first visit. 

I've tried to confine myself in these blog posts to

information which will be useful and not outdated by 2019.

Gros Morne National Park was all about the scenery. As we travelled north towards the northern tip of the island, it was the history -- and prehistory -- that took over. With a couple of quick stops, we covered the distance from Western Brook Pond to up the length of the Great Northern Peninsula to St. Anthony in another easy 4 hours of driving time -- give or take a bit.

St. Anthony marks the end of the road -- figuratively if not quite literally. You can drive on branch roads to other localities around about, but this town is the terminal point of Highway 430, which we had followed all the way from the Trans-Canada Highway at Deer Lake. With a grand total population in the town and surrounding region of just over 4,000 people, St. Anthony is also the largest population centre north of Deer Lake.

In summer, St. Anthony and its surroundings can present a benign, pleasant aspect (although certainly rugged) on a sunny day. The views around the lighthouse at Fishing Cove give you the idea.

But notice the complete lack of trees on the landscape. The brutal winters in this sub-arctic climate are another matter altogether. St. Anthony may be on the same latitude as London across the Atlantic, but with the ruling Labrador current sweeping colder waters down from the Arctic the winter weather and storms here can be vicious.

Before the construction of Highway 430, every community on the peninsula was -- by definition -- an outport. Commercial shipping was rare (non-existent in winter), and life was a hard-won struggle on a day by day basis. Life expectancies were short, and contagious diseases like tuberculosis raged almost unchecked in the remote communities.

The government of the ruling United Kingdom couldn't be bothered to pay much attention to the problems of tiny settlements that may as well have been at the end of the world, and the local administration in St. John's wasn't much more knowledgeable -- or helpful, due to the colony's limited local budgets.

Into this brutal life cycle came St. Anthony's most famous resident, ironically not a local man. Wilfred Grenfell arrived from England in 1892 as part of a non-denominational medical mission, and after beginning work at Indian Harbour ended up settling in St. Anthony. There, he operated a hospital, as well as developing a series of small cottage hospitals in other communities and himself travelling on medical missions to outports around the peninsula region and northwards along the coast of Labrador. In time, his work spread into other fields, including schools, an orphanage, cooperatives, industrial work projects, and general social work. Grenfell was knighted by King George V in 1927 for his services to the people of Newfoundland and Labrador.

In St. Anthony, there is an interpretive centre with exhibits outlining the scope and impact of Grenfell's work.

A statue of Grenfell, in winter travelling clothes, stands outside the centre.

Among the exhibits is a scale model of the Grenfell mission's hospital ship, Strathcona, which relied on both steam and sails as it travelled up and down the coast.

Nearby stands the original Grenfell hospital.

You can also visit a museum housed in Grenfell's home, and see personal artifacts there related to his life and work.

The other major tourist attractions of this region are located about 40 minutes farther north. We backtracked from St. Anthony along the main highway, and then turned right onto Highway 436 which leads northeast to the small village of L'Anse-aux-Meadows.

Along the way, we stopped at "Dark Tickle," a gift shop at which I bought myself a bottle of Bakeapple Sauce. The bakeapple, by the way, is not an apple. It's a berry, looking not unlike a larger relative of a wild raspberry, with a distinctive pinky-red blush on it. The flavour of the bakeapple is equally distinctive. It grows wild in the boggy areas in many parts of the island, and is used to make delicious pies and other sweet treats. "Tickle" is a common place-name element in Newfoundland.

We then carried on up to L'Anse-aux-Meadows, where a unique pair of attractions nicely complement each other in bringing a unique chapter of history to vivid life. In 1960, a local resident led a pair of Norwegian archaeologists to a site which the locals referred to as "the old Indian camp" -- a series of grass-covered mounds. During the years 1961-68, eight separate buildings were excavated, and were determined conclusively to be the remains of a Viking settlement which could have housed as many as 160 people at a time -- the only confirmed site of Norse activity in North America. The exact name and purpose of the settlement remain unknown.

Since the completion of the archaeological digs, Parks Canada has reconstructed several of the sod-roofed houses next to the actual excavations, and the site is now open to visitors.

We parked at a visitor's centre, and spent a few minutes inside examining artifacts recovered during the digging -- some actual, some restored or replicas. These carven stones were the real thing.

After a quick look around we walked down the path towards the main site. Along the way we got this panoramic view over the entire site.

A striking sculpture acted as a kind of gateway before we walked out of a belt of tuckamore and across the meadow grasslands.

Plaques embedded in the grassland show where the actual artifacts were excavated.

After passing through the excavated area, we arrived at the reconstructions of the sod houses.

I think the beds in our motel were probably more comfortable. They were certainly bigger.

Just a short drive up the road from the National Historic Site is another reconstruction called "Norstead." Operated by a non-profit organization, Norstead is intended as a supplement rather than a competitor to the L'Anse-aux-Meadows National Historic Site. The Norstead park has a wider range of facilities, and makes extensive use of local people as re-enactment artists. A visit here allows you to see craft demonstrations and other re-creations of Norse life.

 

The centrepiece of the Norstead park is the large "boat house", containing the ship Snorri -- an authentically built replica of a type of Norse ship called a knarr. Snorri was built and sailed to North America from Greenland in 1998, with a crew of nine.

And right here, at the end of the road, at the end of the world as it seems, we found ourselves in something we never expected. The Norseman Restaurant, close by to both Norstead and L'Anse-aux-Meadows NHS, aptly claims the label of a "fine dining" restaurant. It's been listed as one of the "One Hundred Best Places to Eat in Canada," and with good reason. Definitely plan your day here around dinner at this splendid restaurant, although if you are travelling in summer you should probably make a reservation. The place has a terrific reputation through word of mouth.

On our return journey back south, we stopped overnight in the small coastal community of Port au Choix.  There we learned that this entire west side of the Northern Peninsula was commonly known as the "French Shore" because French fishermen had exercised treaty rights for centuries to fish in these waters, and to camp ashore for purposes of processing fish.  The treaty between France and Britain forbade any settlement of the region, but of course the French fishermen settled anyway -- and that's why there are so many French place names in northern Newfoundland.


Near Port au Choix we visited another incredible archaeological site, an excavation of a round house of the Dorset culture.  This indigenous group lived in the area and in Labrador two or three centuries before the first European contact with the Vikings, but had vanished by the time any historic written records were being made.

The Dorset culture lived communally in large round houses, and the one being excavated at Port au Choix was the largest yet discovered at that time.  One member of the team took some time to explain the nature of the findings, and the fascinating process by which the team was working on the site.

The measuring stick here indicates the depth in the ground at which an artifact has been found.

The digital camera on this tripod was automatically recording the position and depth of the artifact as indicated by the stick, and transferring the information into a computerized 3D map of the site.  That's a process that would have taken many times longer to complete if it were being done by hand!

We also enjoyed some more spectacular mountain scenery around Port au Choix.

For dinner, we went to a local restaurant, the Anchor Inn, a basic modern building with a quirky outdoor dining deck shaped like a boat's bow.  The "pilothouse" served as an entryway from the deck into the restaurant.

That wasn't the Anchor Inn's only quirk -- there was this fisherman in yellow oilskins apparently passed out on the steps to the main entrance.

After leaving Port au Choix we travelled back to St. John's over two days, with another overnight stop in Gander.  It was an exhausting trip.  The whole first day was a tearing rainstorm, and with the permanent ruts in the pavement of the Trans-Canada Highway, we spent the entire day driving with the left wheels hanging on the centre line to avoid hydroplaning.

But no matter -- as you can see from these three blog posts, we had a spectacular holiday.  Here's a final map illustrating all the areas we visited.