Saturday 20th March 2010 - Back to the Frozen North

          I toyed with the notion of irritating Dulcie by taking US-6 or 20 to Chicago, just to hear her recalculating again, but I slept in late (it's the country air and the clean living) and there was a nice breakfast place next door, so I let her have her way.  She excels herself by getting me onto two Interstates and a toll road all at the same time: not only does this road carry Interstates 80 and 90, it's also the Indiana Turnpike, and so is going to cost money.  "Drive 170 miles", she says, and goes to sleep

          It takes me all the way into the heart of Chicago.  When we get onto urban highways, Dulcie really comes into her own: urban drivers are so impatient, but she wakes up and coaches me which lane to be in, and which turn is coming next.  Which is a blessing, 'cos it started snowing the minute we hit town.  It's still a bit too warm for it to settle on the roads, but the roofs and parks are covered.  I can see all this from the highway, because the highway really is high.  In fact, it's called the skyway.  I wonder if I'll be marooned tomorrow.

          I'm stopping in a suburb called Glen Ellyn (it might dispute the description), about 20 miles west of the lake shore.  Dulcie takes me out the Eisenhower highway, then has to choose between Reagan and Roosevelt.  She chooses Roosevelt, which surprises me, since (I must check this) I think Reagan may have been the only president who outspent Roosevelt (Reagan's road, of course, is a toll road).

 

          Later that night, I went to Glen Ellyn town centre to suss out the bars.  The very first one I find is an 'Irish' bar: I'm clearly back in the big city.  A lady comes in and sits beside me (actually, it's the only free seat at the bar). She is clearly grown-up: she's sneaked out of confession for a couple of belters.  She's also clearly Irish: she's totally unimpressed by my Lenten fast.