Big day in the burb

IN TRUE Chicago fashion, the old guy at the visitor centre tells me about his weekend, in addition to giving me directions. I'm quickly learning that Chicagoans are hospitable like this, displaying a warmth not often seen in large metropolises. They say their affable nature stems from the working-class roots of eastern and southern European migrants who settled here before World War I.

I am on my way to Oak Park, home of legendary architect Frank Lloyd Wright, who grew up in the northern suburbs of the city. Tour buses run to Wright's home but my friend in the centre tells me the train is both faster and cheaper. So I grab a hot coffee at Intelligentsia cafe in the city's central business district, known as The Loop, and hop on the next El (elevated train) west.

It travels through run-down neighbourhoods such as Cicero, an area with a history of gang crime and where Al Capone set up headquarters in the 1920s.

Outside Oak Park station, the sun smacks against the suburb's rich greenery, as if an oasis sprung from the beaten ground just blocks south.

It's suddenly brighter, with attractive corner shops and bakeries, shoppers and sprightly puppies skipping across manicured parks. The locals are noticeably well-heeled but talkative and welcoming. Oak Park feels familiar, probably because its suburban backdrop appeared in several John Hughes movies during the 1980s, including Home Alone and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. And just like Ferris, there's no question of what I'm going to do today but of what I'm not going to do.

I stroll up to Petersen's Ice Cream parlour, a favourite here since 1931. The shop - complete with art deco facade and neon sign - has won best ice-cream at the Illinois State Fair on numerous occasions. Its selection of old standards alongside such offerings as sherbet, peach, cinnamon and the famous Turtle Sundae (vanilla ice-cream doused in hot fudge and caramel, then topped with pecans) means there's something for everyone. A woman in a vintage apron blends my vanilla shake for what seems an eternity, ensuring the finished product is light and frothy. Her patience pays off: it's in my stomach before I leave.

I wander over to Forest Avenue for the Frank Lloyd Wright home and studio tour, which takes visitors on a behind-the-scenes look at the master architect's family house and office. The street provides a stunning setting, both stately and serene: squirrels bounce over trim lawns, majestic maples arch over the road, touch and then bend back down to the opposite kerb, while window sills step into cosy worlds of families at Thanksgiving.

Set adjacently to long driveways and behind clipped hedges, many of the Victorian houses are preserved in their original pastel colours. But Wright wanted more from a home. He envisaged buildings that were lower to the ground and harmonised with nature. Born in 1867 on farmland in nearby Wisconsin, he loved the outdoors and so Oak Park provided the ideal slate for his vision.