We landed at CVG (Cincinnati's airport) after 10pm. From the beginning of the day, we had crossed three time zones and were now in eastern time zone. Much like the rest of Ohio, Cincinnati's airport is a sad shell of what once was (or perhaps never was). I had a previous post from last year complaining about how terrible CVG is. I do not change that opinion. A pet peeve of mine as a professional pilot is going to airports where there is some sort of detail or procedure that you are just supposed to know. It is not on any chart, but you are simply supposed to know all of its procedures just because . . .
Anyway, CVG is one such airport. The ramp was barely lit and it was nearly impossible to see any of the taxi lines leading toward the gate. After some confusion, the ramp controller was like, "You guys must not be from around here." Nope. To simply exit the airport, we had to go up and down numerous escalators, take a train, and so on. All of this should be unnecessary because CVG is a rotting carcass of itself with barely any flights anymore. It should have 12 gates and be done with it. Anyway, this experience didn't stop at the airport. The hotel didn't tell you which way to go to get to your room. You're just supposed to know.
Since I had such a long layover here, I decided to go for a walk in the morning. Technically, both the airport and hotel are in Kentucky, so I walked across the Roebling Bridge to get to Ohio. When I first saw the bridge, I thought to myself -- Ah, a poor man's Brooklyn Bridge. There was a sign nearby that says this bridge was like a prototype for Brooklyn. I had done a little bit of research before heading out and discovered that anything of interest is closed on Mondays. Pretty much every museum in the city is shut down, but there was very little activity around the downtown area in general. I saw almost no one. It's like a ghost town. But then again, so is the airport. It's a perfect fit. After meandering for a little while, I crossed back across the bridge into Covington, Kentucky, a sadder, more run down version of Cincinnati, which in itself is a sad run down version of itself. It was now lunch time, so I thought I'd do as the Cincinnatians do and try some skyline chili. I stopped at a fast-food-esque place that was descriptively called . . . "Skyline Chili."
Now if you've been following along up to now, you realize that the kind folks of this area insist that you should know how to do things a certain way . . .just because. Skyline Chili is no different and I suspected as much. I googled, "How to eat skyline chili," so as not to give myself away. It is nothing resembling traditional chili that you would get elsewhere in the country. The base is spaghetti and sauce and there are "ways" you order. 2-way, 3-way (with cheese), 4-way (with beans or onions), and 5-way (with everything). I went 4-way with beans. Then per the instructions, one is supposed to drizzle hot sauce on the top, lay your oyster crackers, and then use your fork to cut pieces of the chili. Swirling it like spaghetti is very faux pas! What was my verdict? It's ok. It wasn't bad, but it didn't blow my socks off either -- which is good, because it was cold outside. I spent the rest of the day warming up, burping up skyline chili, and relaxing before flying back to the west coast. I'm sorry, Cincinnati. You tried.
