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The Windy City

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The Windy City I had not heard many things about Chicago before I went there in the summer of 2002. I only knew it was in the north east of North America and I had seen the musical. Chicago is on the edge of Lake Michigan and to me is much more beautiful than New York or Los Angeles. Both of the latter cities are the settings for many films and television programs; both are talked about as culture capitals of America. I think this is why to me Chicago will always be a very special place, perhaps the most underestimated city in America. My mum and dad are not adventurous when it comes to holiday destinations. The furthest afar I had been was Tenerife with them. They had vowed never to go back after a "dodgy prawn" that my dad managed to eat somewhere along the way. Their love is Cornwall and every holiday opportunity we get, we have to spend our time in our cottage there. When I was invited to go to Chicago as "chief baby sitter" to my sister, brother-in-law and their young daughter I couldn't believe my luck. ...read more.


Before we got into the foyer I had been panicking about what the clerks on the desk at reception were going to think when our "motley crew" entered, however all my prayers were answered when the silence I had been longing to hear suddenly fell. The floor of the reception was black marble, it was gleaming, so shiny it looked like water was being passed along it. The porters stood in their red and gold uniforms waiting for someone to need their help. At the back of the room stretched a long mahogany desk where four young receptionists sat in their pristine outfits each one trying to out smile the other. Everybody was in awe of the whole situation. It could not have been more perfect, the heat may have made us drowsy and the time difference had confused everyone but this was absolutely perfect. " Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Are you wishing to check into the Chicago Hilton Hotel today?" came the smooth American accent of receptionist number three. I could get used to this. The views from our room were spectacular; understandably as it was on the twenty-ninth floor. ...read more.


Yet another chance to show off the now perfected shaking and cold sweats: to tell the truth I was becoming a bit of a laughing stock. The lock on the carriage clicked and we slowly raised to the highest point. My eyes were clamped shut, my knuckles were white and Tom was complaining about not having circulation in his hand anymore. However as I opened my eyes, slowly I began to realise why I had put myself through this. It was so beautiful. the skyline was iluminated by the setting sun and the evening mist had settled between some of the buildings. An occasional light twinkled on top of a skyscraper. I was reduced to tears by the scene. It was amazing what an impact an underestimated city like Chicago could have on one person. Leaving Chicago was really difficult for me. I had fallen head over heels, completely and utterly in love with the place. However the beauty of a vivid memory is that I can go there in my thoughts whenever I want to. I can walk down the avenues or sit in that same carriage, knowing full well that the important things will not have changed when I go back. Amy-Marie Brown ...read more.

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