I wasn’t looking forward to visiting Vegas as much as I now know I should have been. I included it on my itinerary mainly because it was ‘there’, in relatively close proximity to the Grand Canyon.
What a city.
I arrived mid afternoon, after the temperature had cooled to 42c. I stayed at the Golden Nugget which isn’t one of the more obscenely extravagant resorts in Vegas, but still felt ludicrous compared to UK hotels, for example, the pool had a water slide which went through a shark tank! My 19th floor room overlooked Fremont Street, and had an objectively quite average (but, after days of washing from a water bottle with a bar of soap which I seem to be allergic to, subjectively brilliant) shower. I rinsed off the layer of dirt which I’d hoped was a tan, filled the bin with ice, and started drinking whilst getting ready to go out.
I started my evening in the Golden Nugget casino. I left without much less than I started with, but I think I made a net profit when the free drinks are factored in. From there I watched the light show in Fremont Street, and then boarded a party bus for a lap of the city. From there I went to the Bellagio, the Venetian, and ended up getting free entry to a pool party at Encore. The bag search to get into this party was the most thorough I’ve ever had, and the guy who got me free entry seemed to think there’d be a problem getting my EpiPens in, but it turned out to be fine. His concern over the adrenaline issue, and the extent that he went to to explain its purposes to the door staff, was actually really helpful because it detracted their attention away from my bottle shaped breasts and allowed my vodka to stay in my bra. I’m very glad that plan worked out because it was $25 (yes, twenty five dollars) for a single and mixer, the robbing bastards.
The pool party was immense, and unlike anything I’ve ever been to before. Officially there was a strict ‘no drugs’ policy but the extent to which this was enforced seemed inversely proportionate to the amount staff were tipped. I was sitting on the edge of a pool fully clothed, and a drunk Norwegian guy fell over and knocked me in. I left soon after, but even at 1am it was so hot that I dried out in half an hour. From there it was back to the Golden Nugget, via Stratosphere, for a tad more gambling.
As I didn’t expect to fall in love with Vegas as much as I did, I didn’t really factor a hangover into my travel plans. At 8am I was in the hotel lobby, still pissed, waiting to get on a bus to Death Valley. Also in the lobby was one of the guys I went to the pool party with, and got an Uber back to the hotel with. He was researching the phone number for the nearest British Embassy, having already called Encore, Bellagio, the Uber driver and half the people we were out with last night to ask if they’d seen his passport. He should have called me, because he gave it to me at the pool party to put in my bag. He clearly had no memory of this and it took a lot of effort to control my urge to exploit that fact for my own amusement, but I managed to because he looked so feeble, worried and hungover.
Although the air conditioned bus to Death Valley was a good environment to sober up in, it didn’t prepare me for the heat outside of it. It was 46c (yes, forty feckin six degrees Celsius) and I realised I made bad choices. At no point during marathon training did I have sweat pouring out of me in the way I did today, but the beauty of the desert made up for it.
I’ve now pitched a tent at the foot of some hills in Bishop, near to some gorgeous hot springs, and ready for an incredibly early night.
Love Emily x
No comments:
Post a Comment