Well here we are in the Windy City again. Chicago – Frank Sinatra sang about it, the weather gave it its reputation and the Irish, cattle-men and the mob gave it its history. I love the place. Its iron bridges & overhead metro are a constant reminder of industry and power, pounding and clacking out the mantras of past & present moguls, opportunists, industrialists & businessmen. Urban Blues was born here, celebrated every year at the annual Blues Festival.

This is an oportunity to catch up with my daughter. She has moved to a new neighbourhood – West Town.

This morning, jet lag put on the back burner, is spent exploring these streets around Chicago Avenue. Yes please, we go out for breakfast and choose American Breakfast II, which includes the crispy bacon, from Breakfast Club.

Then a wander along Chicago Avenue. Here’s a selection of images from this cosmopolitan, diverse neighbourhood. It feels very similar to East Oxford.

We head for Alcala’s Western Wear. A store with everything a cowboy or a cowgirl needs from lassoes to chaps to hats to buckles to jeans to shirts. Madame from Mexico serves everyone with a huge smile.

It’s Fathers’ Day tomorrow. Amazing how many women were buying a shiny buckle for their man or a mooing hobby-cow for their sons (or daughters).

A leisurely stroll been on the other side of the street takes us home with a new view on to the buildings lining our route.