OBSTACLE 5: THE TRIP FROM THE AIRPORT
When we arrived in Chicago, we were pumped! We had made it! Now we just had to get to the hotel.
No problem. The Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) trains went from the airport to our hotel.
We just had to take the blue line to the loop, cross at either Washington or Jackson to the red line and then walk a block to our hotel.
Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right? Wrong.
As we were travelling on the blue line towards the loop, a woman on the train overheard us talking about whether we should get off at Washington or Jackson.
“Don’t get off at Washington,” she told us. “That’s closed. You won’t be able to get to the red line from there.”
We thanked her and proceeded to get off at Jackson where another helpful passenger told us we wouldn’t be able to cross at Jackson. There was construction.
“Take the train back one stop, go up to the highway, and take the train to Clark from there.”
Trusting souls that we were, we took the train back one stop, went up an escalator to the street, and found ourselves on a landing with a caged turnstile that exited onto a very shady-looking street.
Also on the landing were two people who were engaged in a transaction that looked like it involved drugs or sex or both, One was an elderly gentleman none too steady on his feet. I thought he was drunk. Greg thought he was a crackhead. The other looked like a sex worker but may have just been a friend of the drunk/crackhead. That person was now sitting on the floor waiting for the transaction to commence.
We were at a loss regarding what to do.
Greg realized at that moment he had lost his phone so he was understandably upset and stressed.
Our choices were:
- Muscle our bags through the caged turnstiles onto a street that had no lighting in a part of town that did not look that great.
- Muscle our bags down the stairs, get back on the train, and proceed to Jackson, ignoring the directions of the passenger who had directed us to this stop
- Ask the drunk/crackhead gentleman if there was a train on the other side of the turnstile that we could take.
I picked option 3. This made Greg very uncomfortable.
The gentleman was really quite helpful. He asked us where we wanted to go, gave us what turned out to be accurate directions, and offered to walk us at least a block or two to make sure we knew where we were going.
I turned down this offer because I didn’t want to interrupt the transaction between him and the other person any more than I already had and also because Greg was calling to me. I found out later that he was afraid we might get stabbed or shot or something.
So we picked option 1 and muscled our way through the caged turnstiles only to find ourselves facing more stairs.
Chicago is not a very accessible city.
We hauled our bags up the stairs in the still sweltering heat. I am repeating my mantra in my head. “I’m burning calories and building muscle.” Greg is muttering, “I lost my f—ing phone and I’m going to kill my f—ing girlfriend.”
When we get to the top of the stairs, we use my phone to try to figure out where to go next.
Greg always takes care of all of the travel information and all of the hotel info is in his phone. He knows it’s at Clark, but he’s not sure of the hotel name.
Again, we encounter the kindness of strangers. A young woman notices that we look kind of lost and asks if we need help. We tell her we are trying to get to Clark. She finds a hotel near where we are going and asks if we are staying at the Homewood Suites. That sounds right. She directs us to the red line and even walks three blocks with us to make sure we don’t get lost.
We are profusely grateful and off she goes.
We go down the stairs to the red line only to find it’s not running. Grrrr. At least there is an up escalator back up to the street.
I call the hotel to confirm that we have reservations. Yup. We are staying at the Homewood Suites.
So now we have a choice. Uber or walk.
It’s an 11 minute walk or a 15 minute wait. Surge pricing is in effect. To this day, I don’t know why we chose to walk, but walk we did.
Did I mention that it was sweltering hot? And very, very loud. I don’t know if weekends in Chicago are always like this but it was party central on the streets we walked. And walked. And walked.
It was about 1:00 am by the time we made it to the hotel. I had wrenched both my knees carting the luggage up and down stairs. But, I was burning calories and building muscle.
