Breakfast and the Bean

On Sunday morning we met up with friends David and Megan for brunch. David is a friend of mine since middle school, though recently it seems that we've mainly been talking to and seeing each other only during major life events (wedding, wedding, divorce, wedding). So it was a nice change to have another excuse for getting together. I'd only met his wife Megan at their wedding (and Mike had never met her), so it was fun to get to know her a little better -- she's fantastic.

After a delicious breakfast at a cafe called West Egg (Mike picked what our waiter told us was the most popular dish, a version of eggs Benedict with turkey and avocado; worth the half-hour wait), we walked over to Millennium Park.
There was an orchestra concert or rehearsal (we weren't quite sure which) starting up at the pavilion as we walked by. It provided a nice soundtrack for the afternoon!

We wandered through the gardens. It's always neat to see green space and tons of flowers in the midst of the tall buildings of a city. (Chicago in general had flowers everywhere, though, especially gorgeous tulips. The flowers must have been especially hardy given how chilly it was.)

But the best part was the sculpture called Cloud Gate, informally known as the Bean. It's polished silver (stainless steel), and it reflects the cityscape from all sides.

And even more fun, it reflects all the people approaching it! It's a game to try to find yourself in it. (And of course, it's an awesome photo opportunity. And you know how much I love the photo opportunity.)

There's a different view from every angle, and you can even go underneath it. It curves in to create a kaleidescope effect. Cool, but very disorienting.


Another big attraction in the park is the face fountains. This is one of them; it has a twin facing it about 30 feet away. In between is a wading area, where kids (and a handful of adults) were enjoying the water. It was the warmest day we had on our visit (mostly we were bundled up in layers and jackets), and one of the first nice spring days for Chicagoans, who had been socked with a cold, snowy, gray winter.

From a distance you can't see the faces, and the fountains aren't very attractive -- they just look like big rectangles covered in mesh. But the faces are oddly compelling. They change about every five minutes; we overhead someone saying that there were thousands of them. This one looked like a young boy; the one before it was an old man, and there were abstract patterns after this one was done. They blink, they smile, and (as shown here), they spit.

It was a lovely way to end our trip; after the walk, we caught the train to the airport and an early flight home.