Spellbound in Chicago

First there was the weekend of kudzu-yanking in the backyard and then two days of bailing out the flooded basement. Then I found deer tracks in my lettuce patch.

I needed an escape, preferably somewhere far from the hassles of my dilapidated rental house and garden.

Chicago — with the Art Institute's new Modern Wing, loads of free and inexpensive entertainment, great food and a pair of friends with a new greyhound — sounded perfect.

Getaway deals

So on a recent Wednesday afternoon, I scoured websites for flights for the weekend.

I found a flight that left Friday after work, returning Monday evening, for $100 (Dh367) more. Two days later, my getaway began.

Arriving at O'Hare close to midnight, Friday, I boarded a shuttle to one of the two airport hotels I had booked.

On such short notice, I hadn't been able to find a room in the city for less than $150 (Dh550), so I had decided to make a concession on location. Bidding on a website, I had snagged a room at the Hyatt Regency O'Hare (in Rosemont, a short ride from the airport) for $55 (Dh202) for Friday night.

For Saturday and Sunday nights, when easy access to the subway seemed more important, I had found a room at the Hilton Chicago O'Hare (located on top of the O'Hare station) for $78 (Dh286) a night. Chicago's trains run 24x7, so I figured I could get in and out of the city whenever I wanted on the Blue Line. Eventually, anyway.

Enter Grant Park

The next morning, getting downtown took a good 45 minutes. Getting off at the Clark and Lake stop, I walked in the chilly drizzle towards Grant Park, where the marble-fronted, bronze-lion-guarded Art Institute sits facing Michigan Avenue.

The addition to the airy, glass-and-steel Modern Wing, which opened in May, was the impetus for the museum to reorganise all its collections into something more user-friendly, with works from similar periods and places grouped together: Asian art in renovated galleries on the first floor, Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works in revamped rooms on Level Two.

The European modern-art collection on the third floor of the new wing gets the spotlight — or rather, it bathes in natural light under architect Renzo Piano's “flying carpet'' roof, a steel frame floating over skylights along the length of the new wing.

Photography, video and temporary exhibits are on the wing's first floor, with contemporary works on the second.

But what took my breath away and what other visitors were snapping photos of, wasn't the impressive collection — it was the view.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see Millennium Park, the Frank Gehry-designed amphitheatre with its graceful cross-hatch canopy, the blooming Pritzker garden, the shiny, bean-shaped Cloud Gate sculpture, the twin boxes of Crown Fountain, the iconic skyscrapers in the background.
It seemed, at that moment, only fitting to have that view from what is now the country's second-largest art museum. New York's Met is bigger.

Chicago is bursting with civic pride, with well-tended parks, a clean lake and a stunning skyline.

It has made heroes of its famous architects: Louis Sullivan, Frank Lloyd Wright, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and the man President Obama quoted in a recent speech, planner and architect Daniel Burnham, who said: “Make no little plans.''

There's nothing little about the Art Institute's new wing.

Matinee magic

I tore away from all that grandeur and went to the Goodman Theatre, one of many playhouses in the Loop's revitalised theatre district.

I wanted to catch the Saturday matinee of Rebecca Gilman's ensemble drama The Crowd You're in With, the kind of leisurely indulgence — a whole afternoon at the theatre — that seems impossible unless you're far, far from home.

Following up a play with dinner and the symphony was more indulgent, even when the concert (the Grant Park Orchestra playing Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition) is free.

With Mussorgsky in mind, I stopped for a bite at Russian Tea Time, a throwback of a restaurant right off Michigan Avenue.

An hour before the concert started, I was among the first dozen people in line outside the Harris Theatre, which is tucked away at the north end of Millennium Park.

The Grant Park Orchestra rehearses and plays in the park every summer for ten weeks, with open rehearsals, special guests and full concerts in the Harris Theatre and at the outdoor Jay Pritzker Pavilion.

Seated in the first balcony, I let the music wash over me, thrilled with my art-packed day.

But it wasn't over yet. I hoofed it up to Navy Pier to catch the 10.15pm fireworks from the marina on the pier's south side.

The pyrotechnics get shot off every Wednesday and Saturday night — and they didn't disappoint.

My feet were aching but I made one last stop: at a restaurant, where old photos of famous and once-famous clientele lined every wall and booth and I happily tucked into a burger amid the hubbub, before catching the train to O'Hare.

The next morning, I headed back into the city to visit my friends in Uptown, a neighbourhood on the north side.

The day unspooled as a luxuriously unscheduled one. We walked to Andersonville, the city's one-time Swedish enclave, which was having its annual Midsommarfest block party.

Music blared from several stages and the pavements were packed with taco-eating pedestrians.

We ducked into Erickson's Delicatessen, an old-fashioned deli selling pickled herring, tubes of caviar and Danish candies, an exotic refuge from the heat and crowds.

Later, we took the greyhound to the local dog park, Puptown. It's at the north tip of Lincoln Park, the lovely swath of green stretching more than 5 miles along Lake Michigan's shore.

Home-made dinner, ice-cream and good conversation followed; then my friends drove me back to my hotel.

Bustle and buzz

On my last day in town, I visited Wicker Park, where clubs and restaurants are full of bustle and youth and energy at night.

During the day, the Sun's blaze flattered the carved-stone architecture, tidy houses, boutiques and bakeries.

At the neighbourhood's eponymous park, a quartet of women in matching black leggings practised yoga on the grass and local workers lunched in the sun.

In The Crowd You're in With on Saturday, a character had mentioned that she worked at the Polish Museum of America — it had piqued my interest.

Polish and shine

Just a few blocks from Wicker Park's gentrified quarters, near a highway overpass, is a red brick building that the museum shares with the Polish Roman Catholic Union.

Inside, there's a collection of Pope John Paul II memorabilia, mannequins modelling traditional Polish outfits, weapons and cases of military uniforms.

Many displays are centred around notable Polish immigrants, including the Polish glass-blowers who sailed to Jamestown and sent glassworks back to England: the Virginia colony's first industry.

Some display cases bear plaques with names of local groups and individuals who supported the museum.

Those plaques, in their low-key way, reminded me that Chicago — like all cities — isn't just about buildings, parks and stunning vistas.

It's the people: the immigrant waves that shape neighbourhoods, the residents making use of all the city offers, my friends who are making it a home.

That thought, after my last-minute three-day getaway, made it a little less frustrating to discover that while I was gone, the deer had eaten all my lettuce plants.

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— Information courtesy: The Holiday Lounge by Dnata. Ph: 04 4380454