Day 12

Small towns in the Midwest have a comfortingly similar feel. Brick storefronts, quaint parks, a single dash of the golden arches. The big cities, however, do not fit into the same mold. Each shines ( and in some aspects falls short) in its own way. They all possess an industrial, gritty but also partially refined quality, but a huge, distinctive personality awaits visitors to Chicago, Grand Rapids, Minneapolis and Kansas City.

Kansas City is a bite-sized metropolis with a big heart. Jun and I sliced across Main Street and accidentally found ourselves eating lunch at the mall, but even that was filled with natural light and surrounded by grass and fountains. The mercury had struck 100, so we skipped the outdoor activities in favor of a sampling of the icy goods at Boulevard Brewert. Reservations are required for a tour, but a brewer named Sterling was kind enough to offer endless tastes of the taps.

We had good intentions of joining the First Friday art gallery crawl, but instead checked into the allegedly haunted Hotel Savoy, built in the 19th century, and took a nap that turned into a lazy night of pretzels for dinner and The Client for entertainment. In other words: perfection.

There were no paranormal sightings, alas, but the interiors of the hotel were stunning. Old, creaky and ornate. Our bathtub had claw feet and some of the original furniture U.S. presidents have patronized the guestrooms and restaurant, and Harry Houdini was locked in a phonebooth in the lobby by a brazen traveling salesman. He was pissed. I don't blame him.

Haunted, stained glass.