Shut up about Barclay Perkins - Back to Amsterdam
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No need to get up too early. Just as well, as I'm feeling a little rough. I blame those two litres I drank yesterday afternoon.
That’s weird. It’s warm. Really quite warm. It must be over 20º C. Yesterday it felt like 5º C. From winter to summer overnight. The trees are still all totally bare. Which seems very odd when it’s this warm.
I plan going to Potbelly for a breakfast sarnie. But have a look on the way for a sit-down option. I go a slightly different way and pass the Peninsula. It has a breakfast for $21. A bit pricey, but I've not had a full breakfast on this trip.
It's pretty nice, but not great value for three eggs, two slices of bacon and sausage and two slices of toast. Plus coffee and orange juice. What the hell. It's just the once.
On the table next to me there's a mother with two young daughters. And grandma, who they call Oma. Must be some German blood in them. The kids are pretty noisy, but I don't mind. I can remember when my lads were like that. I've learned to be pretty tolerant of kids. But not so forgiving of miserable adults who whinge at the slightest kid noise. Don't they remember being children themselves?
Checkout is at noon. My flight is at 16:15. But I don't bugger about. Straight to the airport. Slight confession. Last I checked in after getting back from the pub. I was offered a paid upgrade to business class. Being a few drinks in, my willpower wasn't at its strongest. It wasn't crazily expensive, especially if you factor in . . .
I arrive at O'Hare at 12:40. The formalities of bag drop and security don't take long. It's not much past one when I waltz into the business class lounge.
It's quite nice. Great view of the runway. Loads of sandwiches. And self-service spirits. Time to recoup some of that upgrade spend. In bourbon.
To while the time away, while I nibble on sarnies and slurp on bourbon, I fire up my flippity-flop. Damn. It’s won’t start. Is there something wrong with the battery? I’ve been running it on mains power the whole time. But stupidly stuck the power cord in my check in bag. I decide to take the battery out and reinsert it to see if that helps. Amazingly, it does.
Dolores loaded up the first two series of Taskmaster before I left. Lovely woman that she is. I spark up series 1 episode 1.
I have two standard airport stiffeners: Jamesons and Jack Daniels. Depending on where I am. Both are on offer. It's seems only fair to alternate.
This isn't like being in an airport at all, really. No wonder the wealthy are such cocky, smug bastards. A couple more afternoons like this and I'd be there.
I’m feeling pleasantly mellow when boarding of my flight is announced. I finish off my whiskey, close down my computer and trundle off to the gate. It isn’t far.
Onboard, I take full advantage of the food and booze options made available by my upgrade. And watch some more Taskmaster before stretching out and getting my head down. Literally. A get a few hours of pretty decent sleep. I could get used to this.
I don’t wait long for my bag. Before I know it, a taxi is ploughing through the green polder with me in the back. I arrive home before Dolores leaves for work.
The Peninsula Chicago
108 E Superior St,
Chicago, IL 60611.
Tel: +1 312-337-2888
http://chicago.peninsula.com
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