I had been looking forward to Vegas for ages. I’d heard it was Disneyland for grownups, a place where any pleasure is available at any time of the day.
The plane took blinking ages, I’m a chap that can’t sit down, can’t watch TV and can’t play computer games. I always have to be doing something, so 11 hours sat on a plane didn’t play nicely with my body and mind. Luckily James Martin had prepared me an awful lunch.
As always there was a manic rush to get off the plane, being a cool trendy guy I thought I’d chill and take my time.
I shouldn’t have done.
Greeting me in the Las Vegas airport was a MIGHTY QUEUE OF HELL, it was the immigration queue…and I was at the back. Another two hours of joy…gosh they take their time. They have guns though so you don’t moan. Obama is on a constant loop on a telly saying welcome to the USA so that passes the time.
By this time I wasn’t in the best of moods and it was time for the thing I detest most in life. The lowest form of life on the planet, like a slug that resists salt and light. Car rental people. Pushy car rental people.
I may have been a bit overly rude to the poor chap, but I was in no mental shape to be upsold to. He said I’d be miserable in a small car, I said I like misery and would cry in his face if he carried on pushing me.
So! Solpediene all dissolved in a $4 bottle of water from the car hire place, sat at the helm of a mighty car beast (‘economy size’ my bottom, lying car hire bastard man) I was ready to tackle vegas.
The drive to the MGM Grand wasn’t that bad as soon as you realise that the strip is just mental and pedestrians rule. Another queue at check in, but the codeine from the Solpadeine was kicking in and I was in much higher spirits. The up-sell to ‘a room with art on the wall’ for $15 a night tickled my fancy and I handed over my worn, tired credit card.
I adored the MGM Grand. The hotel was crazy, a mental city built to never let you out. Full of chaps from all walks of life, beautiful trendy clubby club club goers, tourists, locals, and my favourites…addicted gamblers, fag in hand pressing the spin button on the slot machine without even looking. We left early one day to go to the grand canyon, about 6am, and they were still there!
I adored the pool most of all. We attempted it the first afternoon at 3pm but it was too trendy and packed full of beautiful people that made me too self conscious.
We went back about 10am the next day and it was gorgeous. Quiet, palm trees, SOOOO many pools. This was just before they switched on the trendy music, I spent about 3 hours in the lazy river with my trendy man beer just bobbing along…I have never been in a pool before where they let you take your drink in..I know, I havent lived.
Las Vegas Strip
‘The strip’ (I’m a cool traveller type now so can refer to it as such) is mental. During the day it’s a baking furness of decadence. Majestic epic hotel cities entrap you with their glorious air conditioning and hide their exit so you can never leave.
Nipping to the next hotel along is actually a 30 minute trek. We missed out on SOOOO much of Vegas, basically because it was just too bloody hot to get anywhere…I’m not just a wimp, this was serious heat, there was a heat wave when we were there, it hit the high 48 degreesers. We basically gave up until the evening.
Which is when it really becomes mental. I’m talking biscuit level mental.
Your senses are bombarded. Flashing flashers, smokey smokes and Jean Michel Jarre lazers. Sounds, sounds from everywhere. From the clubs, the bars, the casinos and the lady pushing her children to sing & dance in the street to make money (they worked bloody hard, they were at it for about 5 hours).
It’s so busy! We were hoping to try one of the famous buffets at Caesars Palace or the Bellagio, we’d been looking at the youtube videos for months prior to the trip (there are more depressing ways of spending your evenings, don’t judge me), getting stomachs ready for the food onslaught… Turns out the waiting times for these buffets are about 4 hours!
As you can imagine we didn’t have any buffets.
The best food we had was a trip to Eggslut. Not heard of it? Oh my Joseph it’s epic. All the range on the West Coast, Brioche stuffed with buttery scrambled eggs with chives, atop caramelized onions and a cheese slice, then a dribble of Sriracha mayo. – I’ll do additional content on the eggslut, I must bring you more eggslut content.
So that’s all I have to say about it really. I didn’t like it, but didn’t hate it. It’s just one of those things you have to see. Actually I did win $80 from $1 so it paid for the upgrade to the ‘room with art on the walls’.
It’s a mental, mental place with rules of its own. It’s like nowhere I’ve been. If I was loaded, seriously loaded I would adore it here.
I’d get chunky cigars, throw money away in the casinos, drink epic amounts of frozen cocktails and be seriously comfortable.
This place is built for comfort and decadence, but you need to bring your pennies.
I’d go back, but I’d stay in the hotel and sun bathe, slowly getting fat and intoxicated without leaving the resort…maybe at Christmas.