Las Vegas

Okay, so here's how it works: Mad's covered Sunday through to Monday and Margs catches you up to date on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Day One: Sunday 1
So I lost Truck, my driving companion of the past four years, a hand-sized elephant, somewhere on the floors of Sydney Airport. And that was only the beginning of Rain on Maddy's Parade Day. In the time it took for the train to pick us up at the domestic terminal and shuttle us across to the international terminal, I managed to misplace my ticket and was thus stuck on the wrong side of the gate. Margot had to swoop to my rescue. Then, I didn't have the proper paperwork to receive my boarding pass (I swear on Truck's tiled grave that this was not my fault) and when I remembered my photocopies, I found the lock on my bag was shut fast and no amount of pulling was going to change that. I eventually got a boarding pass and Margot found me a replacement toy and, after being the recipient of a half-arsed pat down (if you want to smuggle anything, stick it in your bra or the bottom of your socks), we got to hop on the plane.
Flight was uneventful. I'd convinced myself that the reason I couldn't open my lock was that I had picked up someone else's bag by mistake so didn't manage any sleep and neither did Margot, who was wedged between me and someone she didn't want to be sitting next to. Then there was the child a few seats in front of us who, on the hour, would scream that she didn't want to (still not sure what she didn't want to do). If only duck-tapping the mouth of another person's child was socially acceptable.
Day 2: Sunday 2
Margot and I made it through customs and passed by all the gun tottin' officers without incident. We had an easy flight to Vegas, where I was relieved to find that my pack was indeed mine, resplendent with ribbons, and that someone had removed the lock – which was obviously defective – saving me the awkward, and rather suspicious, request of a lock-breaking tool. First tipping experience with the shuttle driver went okay, though neither of us could quite work out what exactly we were tipping for.
Finally got to our hotel, the Paris, on the strip, and spent some quality time stretched star-jump style on our double beds. Our rooms are nice, nothing fancy, but we have an actual bathtub, which seems a luxury that shouldn't be wasted. Between us we average four washes a day.
Searched the hotel-provided guide for a cheap meal and came across a Mexican place at the Hard Rock Cafe Hotel, which only had one $ next to it, so we figured it a safe bet. It was, and the food and sangria were giant sized. It gets dark here at 4 pm so at the end of the meal, 7 pm, we were ready to go to bed. Did a quick explore of the Strip: Vegas has a certain grandness to her (it's a gaudy grandness, to be sure) in sheer size if nothing else. It's a very imposing city with its row of towers competing for sky space – but there's a stubborn layer of grime, like the saccharine cigar smoke that's infused itself into her casinos, which, for all their scrubbing, the daily cleaning crew can't mop up. It's a fun place to be, an energetic place, but (and here's my so-not-cool admission) I don't think I could stay here longer than our four nights.
Went to bed early and spent 10 hours lying horizontal. YAY!
Day 3: Monday
We were out of our hotel by 8.30 am the next morning and it seems few people here, other than locals who work, get up that early because we shared the Strip only with the men and women who pick up rubbish and hose the pavement clean of the night before: tidying up after each night is a big production; we even saw women cleaning the escalators. No one, however, bothers with the scores of naked-women cards (no naked-men cards – an issue that should be addressed) littering the pavement, which are passed out by fluro-shirted men who click their cards at you as you walk by. Neither of us have taken up the offers of which there have been many: the two of us must look like card-collecting ladies.
According to our guide the cheapest buffet breakfast was at the Gold Coast, which turned out to be a 5km-round trip, and provided enough food to warrant skipping lunch.
We'd already allocated our first proper day in Vegas as shopping day, so once back at the hotel we got (not very good) directions from the concierge for the two outlet malls in the city. We ended up getting off the first bus and using our compass! to walk the rest of the way.
No luck for me at the first outlet – I was only shoe hunting – but Margot fitted herself out for ridiculously cheap prices. At the last shop of the second outlet I found some shoes for the price of two books and Margot came away with some inexpensive boots too. If only we didn’t have bag-size constraints.
We found a little faux-Paris diner at our hotel for dinner and had pay-per-slice pizza for tea. We then had another jaunt down the Strip to visit a handful of the over-sized hotels. The MGM is supposed to have lions but both times we’ve gone down to see them they haven’t been in their enclosure so we’re beginning to doubt their existence. No wedding bells yet, but we've only been here a day and a half.
Over and out.
Mad xox

Day 3 (Tuesday)
Began the day with a cup of coffee, my first since leaving Australia. Smokers, drug adicts, vampires and fellow uni people will understand the infinite joy contained within that first drink (which was doubled by the fact that American coffee has cream instead of milk, which is ohmigod amazing). So the day started well, and only improved from there. After two days exploring the Strip, I decided to get away from the neon and venture out into the Mojave, deciding that the best way to do this would obviously be via helichopter. We set out from Vegas flying over Boulder City, Lake Mead, the Hoover Dam and a supposedly extinct volcano peopled by Indians, to land at the bottom of the Gand Canyon. It was phenominal. I was sitting up the front of the chopper, which is pretty much all glass and feels like you're flying in a clear bubble.
I've never seen anything like the Mojave. Unlike our deserts (or what I've seen of them anyeay), the land is all rock with big craggy mountain ranges rising up all over the place. And it's epic. I mean incomprehensibly huge. At first there were no artifical landmarks to compare it to, and it all looked pretty managable. Then the pilot pointed out the Hoover Dam (which is by human standards, very big), a tiny little blemish on the dge of Lake Mead. No wonder everything in Las Vegas is so ridiculously oversized (the cocktail glassed come with neck straps to help you hold them, and Mad and I repeatedly failed to finish a single meal shared between us), the city is suffering from an extreme case of little man syndrome.
I was really interested to learn a bit about the area, and here are some fun facts imparted by the pilot: Boulder City was established to house workers building the Hoover Dam in the 1930s. Alcohol and gambling were illegal, as the government wanted the workers to be focus on the job at hand, but the bans only inspired the workers to take their earnings into Las Vegas. The workers squandered their money and were unable to support their wives and children, so the government ended up paying them in half US dollars and half Boulder dollars, which had to be spent in the city. Alcohol remained illegal until the 1960s and gambling is still illegal. 112 workers died building the Hoover Dam.
The Canyon was by far the highlight. We'd been flying over the desert for nearly an hour, when we went over what looked like just another rocky crest and the ground just fel away. The canyon is over a mile deep and has been forged at a rate of two inches every thousand years (you can see all the lines of sediment on the cliffs). It is this huge ancient thing of terrifying beauty, by far the most spectacular thing I've ever seeen, and possibly will ever see. We flew right down to the Canyon floor and had a champagne lunch by the river, where I got to know some of th eother passengers (mostly from the UK and US) They were all very excited about the hot Vegas weather (about 16 degrees) and when I told them it had been in the 40s the week I left home, they couldn't believe it! They wanted to know if our cities just shut down on days like that.
After I got back to Vegas Mads and I went to the Planet Hollywood Hotel to see Hitzville, a Motown revue (and our first Vegas show). We had to wait in about six different queues to get in, which was a pain, but we got free cocktails (yum!) and the show was worth the wait. The theatre was very small, and the performers came out to greet the audience afterwards.
Day 4 (Wednesday)
Vegas is like nothing else you can imagine, Baudrillard would have a field day. One minute you're in Paris, then you cross the street and you're in Ancient Greece, and everything is covered in neon. Cards of naked women litter the footpath, there are vending machines selling porn on the streets and the air reeks of cigar smoke. At first, it's dazzling, but by our final day, Mads and I were desperate for fresh air and natural light, so we braved the public transport system (Mum, if you're reading, I'm kidding, we caught a very safe taxi) to Springs' Reserve, where we were told we would learn about the history of Las Vegas. Upon arrival we discovered that Springs' Reserve is actually the kind of place tourism boards build to torture unfortunate students on school excursions. We saw such thrilling (and rather hilarious displays) including: different types of lawn favoured by Las Vegas home owners, various types of paving favoured by said homeowners, and the different brands of BBQs availible to them (We have photos, don't worry).
Back on the Strip we decided to do something big with our last night, and bought tickets to The Lion King. The show was absolutely spectacular! The characters were all done with puppets (Wildy girls, think back to the Chalk Circle, but imagine something a tad more extravigant) and the ensemble were fantastic (and yes, I cried). I wish I could say the same for the audience. We had to chnage seats at interval because they guy next to Maddy snored through the entire first act (we're talking thunderstorm volume here), then the people behind me in our new seats talked all through the second act. Very irritating!
We're currently on our flight to New Orleans, which I'm super duper excited about (voodoo and vampires and witches, oh my!). Missing everyone back home, especially Mum, Dad, Jo, Rach and the Dustball. Don't worry Mum, we're keeping safe!
Margot xo xo