Chicago: A city of layers
United States | December 14, 2017
A guide to the birthplace of the skyscraper
Chicago oozes luxury on every level, finds Ella Buchan
I don’t need an app or the toot of a horn to know my ride
has arrived. I can tell by the quickening of the air, the whoosh of wind and
the rhythmic ‘thwop-thwop’ of the rotor blades.
After a windswept photo, I climb aboard a scarlet chopper
for a jaunt through the skies with Chicago Helicopter Experience. While the
Windy City’s steely skyline is impressive from any angle, there are few better
vantage points than 1,500 feet above ground.
Other cities may have taller buildings but Chicago,
birthplace of the skyscraper, still stands spires and shoulders above the rest.
The helicopter zigzags past the twin antennae of the Willis
Tower, hometo vertiginous glass-viewing platform SkyDeck. The city’s
tallest building, it soars like a gleaming king on a board of intricate chess
pieces. Styles range from art deco (333 North Michigan) and modernist (the John
Hancock Building, or ‘Big John’) to the Spanish colonial revival of the Wrigley
Building, its Seville-inspired clock tower telling time by the teal-coloured
Chicago River. From the air, doll-sized walkers, joggers, cyclists and
rollerbladers dot the wide paths around Lake Michigan, while others laze on
beaches and grass.
Chicago knows it’s gorgeous. All that architecture, water
and lush green spaces has earned it the nickname ‘Urbs in Horto’, or city in a
garden.
And it hasn’t let itself go. Maggie Daley Park opened in
2015, replacing an underground parking lot with tennis courts, an outdoor
climbing wall and picnic spots next to Millennium Park’s 25 acres. Spanning the
two parks is Frank Gehry’s BP Pedestrian Bridge, a sinuous squiggle of brushed
stainless steel.
Then there’s the art. The Art Institute’s permanent
collection – world-famous paintings include Grant Wood’s American Gothic,
Picasso’s The Old Guitarist and Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks – is
as dizzying as those buildings, which glint through the glass as I weave
between floors.
LUXE APPEAL
The luxury travel market is taking notice. Bespoke
Experiences, which works with travel agents to tailor exclusive tours, recently
added Chicago to its portfolio.
New hotels include the chic Kimpton Gray, named for the
original Georgia Gray marble in the lobby. Then there’s the city’s first
Conrad, a classically elegant choice for business travellers. This autumn sees
the Viceroy open in the glitzy Gold Coast neighbourhood, while the new Ace
Hotel Chicago caters to moneyed millennials.
There are endless opportunities to splurge. Clients can take
a champagne helicopter tour, shop for Louis Vuitton luggage on Michigan
Avenue’s ‘Magnificent Mile’, or linger over nine impeccable courses at
three-Michelin- starred Grace restaurant.
All this could easily go to a city’s head. Yet the city
oozes down-to-earth, Midwest charm and generosity of spirit.
From my first strides around The Loop (central business
district), face tilted upwards to gawp at the towers, I felt the entire city
wrapping me in a welcoming blanket.
Chicagoans love their city so much, they want to tell you
everything. Take the Chicago Greeters, locals who show visitors around for
free, like a welcome gift. The scheme has been curated by Choose Chicago, the
destination’s official marketing organisation.
My guide, retired businessman David Dresden, takes me to
Wicker Park, oneof Chicago’s oldest neighbourhoods and currently the
hippest. We pass former furniture factories that are now record stores, pho
restaurants and vintage emporiums, before ascending to The 606, a 2.7-mile-long
elevated park on a former
railroad. The paths are bordered by fragrant grasses and wildflowers, and dotted with sculptures. “Ah, Chicago is a great city,” sighs David.
WEIRD AND WONDERFUL
Few are as enthusiastic about their neighbourhood as
Margaret Hicks, who founded Elevated Tours. And few neighbourhoods are as
strange as hers.
The comedian has a passion forthe Pedway, a subterranean networkof
tunnels linking some of The Loop’s famous buildings. She guides me past a
gallery of stained glass underneath Macy’s towards the Marriage Bureau, where
photographer Ed waits patiently to hawk his wedding portraiture.
Margaret is planning to launch a luxury tour with spa
treatments, cocktails and dinner, all without stepping outside.
“Not everyone gets it,” she admits. “But I just love it.
It’s so weird.”
Less niche is a boat tour with the Chicago Architecture
Foundation. The guides are volunteer staff members who know the buildings brick
by brick (or steel rod). I lean back to gaze up at the eclectic parade of
beauties.
Afterwards, I devour oozy burrata (cheese) with a glass of
rosé at Chicago City Winery on the Riverwalk.
Food has always been a big deal in Chicago, though it has
moved beyond deep-dish pizza and hot dogs splodged with mustard.
Now the city twinkles with 35 Michelin stars. One-starred
GreenRiver is tuckedon the 18th floor of a medical building. Not exactly
prepossessing – until I stepout to views that swoosh towards Lake
Michigan. The encyclopedic cocktail menu was designed by the same team as New
York’s Dead Rabbit, regularly rated the world’s best bar. Dishes include
ricotta cavatelli pasta with short rib and morels, self-sauced by a runny
poached egg. I can’t resist trying a Michelin-starred cheeseburger, rare, juicy
and almost truffle-like in its richness.
Proxi, in the West Loop, is chef Andrew Zimmerman’s second
restaurant. His first, Sepia, already has a star. With sharing plates like
tempura elotes (smoked corn fritters) and crisp-fried fish collars with garlic
chilli sauce, I predict another.
Eden, in edgy West Lake, draws crowds keen to taste (and
Instagram) its umami doughnuts with roasted mushroom miso and raclette.
Sepia lighting and scantily-clad staff mean Maple & Ash,
in Gold Coast, feels more like an exclusive nightclub than a restaurant. In
lieu of an amuse-bouche, the waiter pours a citrussy aperitif, stiff with rum.
We opt for the chef’s choice, and the table groans under platters of crab legs,
oysters and wood-fired filet mignon.
The treats keep coming at Buddy Guy’s Legends, owned by the
blues star. “Mr Guy’s on stage right now if you wanna catch him,” drawls the
doorman.
And there he is, 81 years old in a green plaid shirt and
still working the crowd with gravelly, melodic riffs about whiskey and wimmin’.
There’s more music the following evening at Frank Gehry’s
Jay Pritzker Pavilion, where the city hosts free summer concerts. The Grant
Park Orchestra fills the stage, bows and vocal chords poised. Then the symphony
soars from under the honeycombed roof, brimmed with steel ribbons. The notes
hit my skin like shards of ice. Goosebumps. Visitors can pay fora
seat in the stands or simply laze on the grass with a picnic – unwrapping
another gift from this big-hearted city.