Churches of beer and learning β›ͺοΈπŸΊπŸ§‘β€πŸŽ“

From Amish Country, we drove 157 km east to reach the city of Pittsburgh in western Pennsylvania.

Like Minneapolis, Pittsburgh’s “Rust Belt” status is worn with pride throughout the city. Its metalwork heritage is celebrated through the local “Steelers” football team, and some of the city’s 446 (!) bridges have received a colourful facelift in recent years.

Our first stop was Pittsburgh University’s Cathedral of Learning. Built in 1926, this creation is a bizarre combination of a 163 m tall skyscraper, a neo-gothic cathedral and a modern day university. The exterior and interior are such strong contrasts that it’s hard to believe they’re the same building at all.

The Cathedral of Learning also features 31 nationality rooms surrounding the neo-gothic main hall. Each room is themed after a particular nationality or culture at a specific time in history. These rooms are as functional as they are decorative, with many classroom features (such as blackboards or projectors) hidden within historical artefacts. I’d actually visited previously (on a conference in 2012) and thought the building was cool enough to bring Sara back for a second visit. I’m not sure what was better – the infectious enthusiasm of our tour guide this time, or the thrill of being given a large iron key and being left to my own devices on my last visit! Either way, the rooms were really interesting, with lots of hidden symbolism and cool craftsmanship.

Just outside the Cathedral of Learning, we came across a statue of Dippy, the world-famous Diplodocus. I had no idea that the skeleton that used to be housed within London’s Natural History Museum (currently in Coventry) is actually a cast of the original, which is on display inside Pittsburgh’s Carnegie Museum of Natural History. I also love that the original skeleton, the cast, and this statue all share the same benevolent name of “Dippy” that was given in 1907 and has stood the test of time. Not at all confusing!

Statue of Dippy in front of the Carnegie Museum of Natural History

Just over 100 km southeast of Pittsburgh lies Fallingwater; arguably Frank Lloyd Wright‘s most famous building. Wright designed the building as a summer home for the Kaufmanns, a wealthy family from Pittsburgh and the owners of the Kaufmann’s Department Store. Apparently, the construction cost went five times over budget, although this didn’t seem to bother them very much. While a visit to Fallingwater had been high on Sara’s list, I’m normally less of a fan of residential architecture. But I have to admit it didn’t take long before I became pretty envious of the Kaufmann family’s beautiful holiday home!

The building is named for its unique construction directly above a river, which literally flows right through the building. As a result, the sound of falling water can be heard throughout every room in the main building.

We were fortunate enough to visit on a beautifully sunny day, which felt like redemption after our total washout in Oak Park, Chicago. This made the sun terraces extra inviting, which was lucky as we learned they make up nearly half of the building’s total square footage!

We left Fallingwater with a whole 40 minutes of contingency on top of the time needed to drive back to Pittsburgh to return our hire car. However, this time rapidly evaporated when we got stuck behind a slow-moving dumper-truck, hit two sets of roadworks, were slowed by general rush hour traffic, stopped for fuel, and took an unintentional detour across the Allegheny River on our final approach to the rental centre. In the end, we screeched into the car park with a whole 10 minutes left on the clock, and we were very relieved to hand over the keys just before they closed for the day. Although in a generally unhelpful location, the rental centre did happen to be just down the road from the Church Brew Works – a 1902 church-come-brewery, which quickly washed away our hire car stresses.

With the weather still on our side, we spent the rest of the evening on Mt Washington overlooking Pittsburgh’s downtown.

Fortunately for us, the mountain is easily navigated by the Duquesne and Monongahela historic funicular railways, which traverse the incline in a matter of minutes. The former even hosts a museum at its top station where you can see the original hoisting equipment in action as the car runs up and down.

Watching the sun set and the sky turn pinky-blue behind the downtown skyline felt like a fitting end to our final evening in Pittsburgh. Next, we hopped back on an Amtrak train one last time, bound for Philadelphia, the “birthplace of America”.

Acknowledging Independence Day in Chicago

From Indiana Dunes, we drove the remaining 62 km of lake shore to reach Chicago, which completed our mini-road trip around Lake Michigan.

However, less than an hour into the drive, each of our phones sounded an alarm as they received an emergency alert, warning of flash flooding across the greater Chicago area. The rain arrived almost immediately afterwards, and before long it was torrential. There was so much standing water and spray on the interstate that we had to pull off to wait for conditions to improve. Sitting in a Wendy’s restaurant car park, we passed the time by playing many, many rounds of the yes/no game: “I am a country, where am I?”

When the rain finally eased, we continued our journey over local roads to Chicago’s Oak Park – an immaculate neighbourhood packed full of Frank Lloyd Wright-designed houses. The rain was so heavy that we abandoned our initial plan of a walking tour, and instead parked beside each house, read the description from our guide book, and peered out at the houses through the rain.

By mid-afternoon, the flash-flood warnings had turned into genuine floods. Many roads had been closed and we saw so many stranded vehicles that had attempted to ford some of the newly-created urban lakes. We ended up stuck on the wrong side of a series of underpasses, all of which were impassable due to the flood water. With no alternative, we backtracked to the interstate to take the long way around, arriving hours later at our accommodation exhausted and with our nerves wrecked.

What a difference a day makes

The storm had completely blown over by the next day and we were greeted with blazing sunshine and 30 degree temperatures – the city was almost unrecognisable compared to what we had experienced the previous day. In addition to the improvement in weather, the storm had completely cleared the Canadian wildfire smoke that had been plaguing the region in recent days.

We spent the best part of the day following a self-guided walking tour along Chicago’s riverfront and gawking at the seriously impressive skyscrapers from the riverside path. We also learned about two seriously impressive feats of civil engineering…

In the 1850s and 60s, many buildings in central Chicago were raised by nearly 2 metres. This enabled a new sewer system to be constructed beneath the raised street level to combat the low-lying swampy ground that had been responsible for causing multiple deadly epidemics. Despite the project’s almost unbelievable ambitions, the result was a huge success, with most of the buildings receiving little or no damage in the process.

We also learned that the Chicago River had its flow intentionally reversed in the late 1800s due to concerns around Chicago’s clean water supply. This was achieved through the creation of a new canal and a number of locks, into which the river now drains instead of Lake Michigan. At least, it does unless Chicago is experiencing rare and serious flooding, when the flow can be switch-reversed to drain back into Lake Michigan. The last time that happened was 2020…until yesterday – it really was a lot of rain!

I really think they could have found a bigger flag

Just down the road from the river is Millennium Park, home to the Cloud Gate sculpture, aka “The Bean.” This sculpture consists of a smooth and shiny orb-like structure, which appears almost spherical from some angles and an upside-down U-shape from others. Distortions aside, its reflections of Chicago’s skyscrapers played some strange tricks on our eyes as we walked around it.

⚠️ WARNING: Italians might want to skip this section ⚠️

Having never eaten proper Chicago-style pizza before, this was a bit of an education. We picked up a pizza from Giodano’s – a local institution that has been serving up this speciality for nearly 50 years. Chicago-style pizzas are also known as “deep dish” pizzas, owing to their steep sides that allow the cheese, tomato and other ingredients to be stacked to otherwise impractical heights.

We ordered a “Chicago Classic”, whose layers are ordered as follows (from bottom to top):

  1. Dough (pizza base)
  2. Pepperoni
  3. Mozzarella
  4. Mushroom, onions and green peppers
  5. Another thin layer of dough
  6. Tomato sauce
  7. Parmesan

Interestingly, none of us even noticed the secondary super-thin layer of dough which separates the “toppings” from the tomato sauce. I think this was because its texture was soft and stretchy – nothing like the tough (and slightly dry) crust that surrounded the pizza.

Our “medium size” pizza more than fed the four of us for lunch. And despite our relatively restrained topping selection, it was far and away the most indulgent pizza I’ve ever eaten. The pie itself wasn’t much of a looker, but I did love that you can feed a whole family with a single pizza.

And to any Italians that made it this far: don’t worry, our hearts are still with Neapolitan-style pizza!

Independence day (aka the Fourth of July)

We’d read that the quintessential Independence Day experience should involve a parade, a baseball game, and a firework display, so that’s exactly what we set out to do.

We started off by heading out to the residential neighbourhood of Hyde Park, which hosts Chicago’s largest Independence Day parade. Such parades consist of a wide range of local organisations and businesses passing along a closed street with the aid of floats, often separated by marching bands and performing arts groups. One minute, the local high school brass band would be passing us, the next minute we’d find ourselves waving to an insurance company’s float, who would be shortly followed by the county forestry organisation. All in all, it was an incredibly wholesome experience and a great way to immerse ourselves in the party atmosphere.

Following the parade, we enjoyed a free hot dog (courtesy of Trader Joe’s, the local supermarket) while watching some adorable kids performing martial arts and dance demonstrations. It was then time to say goodbye to Helen & Mick, who were flying back to London after spending nearly a month with us on our route from Portland to Chicago. Thank you so much for coming all this way and keeping us company!

That evening, we took the metro to the Guaranteed Rate Field (lol) to watch the Chicago White Sox host the Toronto Blue Jays. This is the second baseball game we’ve attended, and on both occasions we were surprised by how little attention most fans seem to be paying to the action on field. Eating and drinking seemed to be the primary activity, with socialising coming in a close second, leaving little attention left to follow the game. Meanwhile, we were desperately trying to keep up with the action – despite having been previously, our understanding of the rules doesn’t really go much further than, “It’s a bit like rounders, isn’t it?”

The game was followed immediately by an absolutely spectacular firework display. We’d already watched a few displays erupt around the city during the baseball game, but this one blew the others out of the water.


After a slightly disastrous journey to get there, we ended up having an awesome time in Chicago, and it felt like the perfect place to celebrate a national holiday. From here, we boarded the Lake Shore Limited Amtrak service heading east once more to reach Cleveland, Ohio.

(shut the front) Door County

From Milwaukee, we picked up a car and drove north into Door County, a peninsula jutting out into Lake Michigan. This area is known for its natural beauty, as well as being part of greater “dairy county” – Wisconsin is the second largest milk-producing U.S. state, after California.

Weather conditions weren’t the best during our visit for two reasons; first, it rained quite a lot, and second, winds had blown smoke from the forest fires that have been ravishing Canada across a huge area of the Midwest. While this slowed our progress around the peninsula slightly, it did leave us plenty of time to appreciate some of Door County’s man-made attractions.

Trains πŸš‚

On our way to Door County we stopped in Green Bay, the region’s “big city”, which happens to be home to the National Railroad Museum. Now Sara and I both like trains (well, to varying degrees), but we clearly have rivals as this wasn’t even Helen and Mick’s first visit to this museum! It told the story of early rail transportation in the USA, as well as preserving some absolutely pristine locomotives, including “Big Boy” (yes, that’s really its name). We were even allowed to clamber aboard some, pretend to operate the controls, and scare the living daylights out of some other punters who didn’t realise there was anyone in the dark carriage they were entering πŸ‘».

Breweries 🍻

It’s been a while since Sara and I last visited the US, and I swear the breweries weren’t this good or plentiful before. The days of choosing between Coors, Miller and Bud are long gone, and instead brewery menus regularly featured beers inspired by Belgian blondes, Czech pilsners, hoppy IPAs and milk stouts. And the food wasn’t even an afterthought, either. At Copper State Brewing Co in Green Bay, we paired our brews with more delicious fried cheese curds, which went down an absolute treat. Add in some alfresco dining and the semi-regular passings of some nearby freight trains for entertainment, and it added up to a near-perfect meal. Even Mick found a place in his heart for a peanut butter stout alongside his real-ale favourites.

Nature 🌳

A short drive up the coast from Sturgeon Bay (where we were staying) was Cave Point County Park – a protected area right on the edge of Lake Michigan. Here, dense forest meets the lake’s choppy waters at a line of dramatic limestone cliffs. The absence of salt in the air was the only perceivable clue that the lake wasn’t open sea, and I’m sure we didn’t even see the water at its wildest. We stumbled over tree roots along the lakefront path to reach Whitefish Dunes, a totally deserted strip of sand along the lakeshore. The water was way too wild for swimming however, with the riptide signs and shipwreck information panels offering plenty of warnings of the dangers of taking to the water.

It was only on our way back along the cliffs that we noticed some deep cracks in the rock underfoot, many of which went all the way through to the sea beneath. Some were even large enough to lose a dog or a small child through!

Frozen custard 🍦

With Wisconsin being dairy country and all, frozen custard quickly became a regular post-lunch occurrence. In fact, when we were planning this part of the trip, it was clear that frozen custard was a very high priority for Helen and Mick, and who were we to argue?! We visited Zesty’s Frozen Custard which is housed in a 50s-style diner, and the riverside Not Licked Yet. While we loved watching the ducklings and feeding the topiary outside Not Licked Yet, Zesty’s super-creamy custard and rich hot fudge sauce stole the show.

Navigational aids ⛡️

On the east side of the peninsula at Baileys Harbor, we came across two rangelights, which together formed a navigation aid for ships arriving at night.

The rangelights were located 270 m away from each other but at different heights, with the white light shining 5 m above the red light. By aligning the white light directly above the red light, ships could be sure of a safe route in and out of the harbour, even at night. If this sounds familiar, then maybe you’re also a fan of Arthur Ransome’s Swallows and Amazons, in which Captain John and his crew use rangelights to safely enter a harbour in the dark.


Next, it was time to cross the lake to Michigan’s own Gold Coast (its eastern shore), via the historic S.S. Badger ferry.