We live as long as we fly
I've been told lately that my recent posts are lacking in juicy facts and grand exposures. Alas - there's not much surprising or astonishing in the US, and I just didn't have enough for that many posts. So, I will add fuel to the fire by tearing off the covers (© Goblin) and opening your eyes to the horrors of American totalitarianism.
So, a terrifying fact, but in reality Chicago
looks like this -
An oceanarium in English is called an Aquarium. And really — why overcomplicate it? An aquarium is an aquarium, even if it takes up as much space as a football stadium, and has several thousand species of fish in it (2100, to be exact). Funny enough, the word Oceanarium does exist in bourgeois lingo too, but it specifically means the ocean part of an aquarium, so they still one-upped us there.
Eventually we made it to the hotel, where we met up with Tanya. She explained that there's a restaurant on the Magnificent Mile where locals don't go because of the sheer number of tourists. It's called Grand Lux Cafe. Tanya lives in Chicago, but she loves this place because the food there is always delicious.
Upon arriving at the restaurant, they write down your name at the host stand and hand you an electronic buzzer that will let you know when a table opens up. Fortunately, they had seats for us right away, whereas some people wait up to two hours. So we dashed upstairs to the second floor, where a gay-looking staffer was already waiting for us; he asked "Tanya?", and upon getting an affirmative answer, escorted us to our table. A pity it wasn't by the window, but we hadn't had any luck with that the entire trip - what can you do. Even at Galileo's, I got to admire an excavator instead of the lake.
So, after the planetarium, Tanya called us and we agreed to go to a restaurant. Maybe my space-time continuum is getting tangled and it happened a day later, but no big deal - after all, I'm not writing a historical chronicle.
Another panorama of the Loop. Note the number of yachts.
