Going To Cleveland

     For well over forty years "Going to Cleveland" has been a family travel ritual that we undertook numerous times a year, as Tom's parents, sister, and other extended family members lived or continue to live in the suburbs contiguous to the city.
    Thus when we said we were "going to Cleveland" it didn't mean we were actually going to Cleveland; it  meant that we were going to visit relatives who lived near, but not in, Cleveland.
       In truth, in all the years I'd  been "going to Cleveland" the most I'd ever seen of the city ― other than one brief, ill-advised foray I vaguely recall one night around Christmas time several decades ago to take our kids ― at the time one toddler and one baby ― to see a Care Bear lights display, or something ― anyway, other than that the most I'd ever seen of downtown Cleveland,

...was an occasional  skyline shot of the city from the car while driving from a visit with the relatives on the east side to a visit with the relatives on the west side, or vice-versa.

     Who knows from whence come the bees we get in our bonnets?
    Though I believe the particular bee that flew into mine and buzzed into my brain the desire to learn what wonders there might be just below that Cleveland skyline,

...arrived last May while I was staying at the Marriott Residence Inn  in the Cleveland suburb of Avon,

...for the wedding of my nephew Jason and his bride Rachel (see post from 5/17/2017).

    Anyway, Tom and I  ended up liking that Marriott so much that I suggested that we return there sometime and, as one does not stay at a hotel unless one has a reason to do so, I deduced a reason for us to go back: The hotel was close to downtown Cleveland; I'd never actually been to downtown Cleveland (except for the Care Bear lights fiasco, which I chose not to count); so why not spend a tourist weekend - actually go to  Cleveland - and stay at the hotel?
      Time passed, summer came and went  and we sort of forgot about the "Go To Cleveland" plan until I revisited  it a few weeks ago and came up with the idea of going in October and calling it a birthday trip - for me - so that in case anybody asked, "Why are you going to Cleveland and staying in a hotel when you have so many relatives there?" I could just say, "It's for my birthday."
      So we left Columbus this past Thursday morning and stopped along the way in the Cleveland exurb (a little farther out than a suburb) of Lorain to visit Tom's 98-year-old father, Charlie,

...who will be 99 in November,

...at his assisted living facility,  Anchor Lodge, a lovely place  on Lake Erie.

    Then after our visit and a stop at Subway for lunch we headed for the suburb of Avon and The Marriott Residence,

...where we found the bright, open, multi-space lobby as neat as we'd remembered it from our last stay,

...and from which we snatched a few "welcome cookies,"

...on our way to our suite on the third floor.

     Our quarters included a living room,

..kitchen,

...complete with all the kitchenly accoutrements,

...bathroom,

..and bedroom.

     The decor of all the rooms was pleasantly minimalist,

...if maybe a tad heavy on the over-stuffed pillows.

     Still we just tossed all the pillows onto the floor and hung out in our sweet suite until it was dinner time.
     For dinner we drove back to Lorain to a cute little family diner located on the lake called Chris' that we've been to several times before,

...where we met Tom's sister Mary Jane.

     The food at Chris' is always good,

...and the prices right.

     Mary Jane ordered an omelet and some beautiful home fries,

...Tom had his favorite, Lake Erie Perch,

...while I had my favorite, the faux Philly Steak Sandwich.

   I say "faux" because this was by no means a real Philly cheese steak, as any native Philadelphian could plainly see. Still it was quite yummy.

     After dinner and a visit to the school at which Mary Jane teaches, Tom and I returned to the Marriott,

...which was all lit up and pretty outside,

...as well as inside.

     Then we settled in for the night, me knowing that the following day I would ― finally ― not be "going to Cleveland,"  but going to Cleveland.
     To be continued...

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