Chicago. What a wonderful city. I really have to admit I was quite impressed.
Most of you know me. I like nice hotels. It sounds like a bit of a confession and I guess it is. I would prefer the Four Seasons to the Holiday Inn. A nice marble tub to a plastic shower. 500-count Egyptian sheets to scratchy, nasty blankets. Room service over a vending machine.
Is that so wrong?
So, is it any wonder that we spent a night at The Drake? It is one of those historic, iconic hotels that makes you feel good just to pass through the front door (where you are greeted by a monstrous bouquet and an expansive lobby).
We only had time for the girls to order 11 pm room service while we grabbed a drink at Coq D'Or. But that bed was oh so nice. And the lobby. And the friendly concierge. And the flowers. Did I mention the sheets?
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