On September 10th we bid adieu to Baraboo and hit the road for Chicago. My mother-in-law left Baraboo at the age of 18 to head for the big city, so that is where my husband and his sisters call home. We started out as a two vehicle caravan, but split up after about 45 minutes because we needed to make a gas and bathroom stop. When we reached Chicago a few hours later, we found that the street the GPS wanted us to take to the hotel was closed.
Fortunately, my husband learned to drive on the streets of Chicago, so he wound us around a different route until we reached our destination – a lovely block of apartments that had been reinvented as a hotel. It was too early to check-in, but they gave us the opener to our designated garage so we could at least park the car. It was mid-afternoon at this point, so we drove around to find a restaurant. Ironically, we ended up at one that was easy walking distance.
I had texted and attempted calling Tim’s sister several times after we parted during the drive to see where they were. No response. So when we sat down to lunch, I asked my husband to check his phone. Turns out, she had repeatedly texted his phone, while not answering mine. My husband takes driving seriously, as everyone should, so he doesn’t look at his phone when he is behind the wheel. We had just placed our order when he received a text stating that they had arrived and “the guys” wanted to return the rental car to the airport. My husband had intended to go with them since neither of “the guys” were familiar with Chicago.
Since they weren’t willing to wait until afternoon traffic cleared out, my husband responded that they should allow 3 hours to get to the airport and return by train. Which turned out to be spot-on. Meanwhile, we had a leisurely lunch, followed by a walk around the neighborhood and iced coffee, while we waited for our room to be ready. I think we made the wiser choice.