Its About The Ratio of Things. Or: Chicago, Love of My Life, Part II

Lately I have been thinking of amounts, sizes, lengths, weights and all sorts of other figures.   The three past weeks were our last in Chicago. It has been 10 months, 7 days, 13 hours and 21 minutes. Its a long time if you think almost adults like us just take a break and hang out in a cool city. Its not much if you think how much more there is to see and learn about this great place. Its nothing if you consider the size of the country around it. But it is just enough for us to call it home and to feel sorry, even a bit anxious to leave it behind. 
We have said goodbye to our lovely Chicago. We said goodbye to the river and the construction workers (glad we will not be here when you start on another skyscraper to fully block our view on it). Goodbye to our favorite breakfast places and big America portions.
For me its is leaving a home behind again. Or going back to another home. I wonder if this is what they mean when they talk about globetrotters. But I am not trotting, I have a home in three countries now, with all the stuff you need to call a place home. You know, people, places, languages, things. 
Goodbye to all the neighborhoods. The shops where they are so friendly. Goodbye to the friendly people on the streets who compliment you on your clothes. Even my six years old skirt that I had planned to donate to the Salvation Army received such a loud scream of I-LOVE-YOUR-SKIRT!!! from a lady last Monday that it was immediately ranked higher again to things that are packed to go.
Yes, things. Another thing that has been constantly on my mind, and, all over our Chicago home. Whereas it may well be disputable how many homes one needs, it is now definitely clear that one does not need as much stuff as I have. Packing started immediately after unpacking from the road trip. I took my time to say goodbye to many great things in my closet and bookshelf, and office, and even bathroom. We took four paper bags to the Salvation Army, and I managed to stay tough with my politics of dealing with old running socks that had taken me through about 800 kilometers and eight races since September.
Goodbye, Lake Michigan. I loved the dozens of miles of your trails. Goodbye greenshitters (the geese on the lakeshore and I developed such a deep relationship I nicknamed them. I am sure they had one for me, too.) Goodbye, Chicago winds and rains. I love you for helping me get tough on myself and fulfill my promise of the half marathon.
Well the socks had to go but I could almost not believe how on earth I still had about 90 kilograms of stuff left. A big question mark. Ok, also a rhetoric question. At the latest at the check-in desk where the lovely ladies kindly recommended they would rather upgrade us than make us paid for the extra luggage I made another promise. I will from now on only travel with one piece of luggage and always look effortlessly chic when I waltz through the security with just my purse (and not two laptop computers in my fourth suitcase). The latter is connected to some other promises but I have to go now, maybe we will find the Chicago-sweater here that we still need. It is 13.58 and we are boarding Swiss soon. 
I love you Chicago. Bye-bye!

Home For The Fourth

It is 38 degrees Celsius outside our Chicago home. Crazy. Unlike most of our American neighbors who are barbecuing on the terrace or at Lake Michigan behind the house we are staying in tonight. But the garland featuring little stars and stripes is hanging and we have bought like fifty hot dog buns for our guests to arrive later this evening. After eating on the road for the past three weeks (sometimes literally so) it feels good to do some good old cooking again. It also feels good to be inside our own four walls. Besides the shelter for heat, they also offer peace and quiet and protect me from other people. I have always thought of myself as a particularly sociable person but turns out with age, I am quite a Monk (you know the TV series where this detective has all kinds of complicated phobias, needs everything clean and quiet). I will obviously need to work on that but the reason I have thought of Monk often over the past couple of days is that we spent some very nice time in his home town San Francisco. This is actually how I knew the city before we arrived there. Of course the TV producers would always make sure they shoot on sunny, clear days, which is why it hit me as a complete surprise that this place at the Pacific suffers from severe fog-overs for most of the time. As the city is naturally air-conditioned this way, the temperatures are half of what they are here in Chicago, and we could enjoy walking up and down the 43 (!) hills of SF, even wearing a jumper. 

Do you see what I mean? The world famous Golden Gate Bridge (when you can see it).

The world famous cable cars that drag hundreds up those killer hills are the city`s most attractive ways of transportation. With 6 bucks a ride probably also the most lucrative one. The manually operating heavy-wrestlers on the cars fill`em up with dozens of tourists at a time, we calculated that one car makes about four rides an hour... They start at six in the morning and this is when we took our ride with a cable car. The only time you can get a seat. 

SF has a huge Chinese community and it shows

Alcatraz actually is a rock, there is no earth or water on the island

Sitting there in the fog Alcatraz is still spooky, even though it has not been used as a prison for a long time.

The last day of our whole trip San Francisco treated us to a sunny view on the beautiful red bridge. Actually, the color is called international orange and the strait of the bay Golden Gate. 

The moon is almost full again, our road trip is over. Chicago is only one loaded flight away.