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| Planes flying over the rental car place near LAX |
Bag packed and weighing a whopping 17.7kg, we fortified
ourselves with several glasses of wine and delicious fish and chips at
Christchurch airport before boarding the first plane. Some 14 hours later, we
landed in LAX, cramped, dishevelled, and having had very little sleep.
After melting for what seemed like hours in the line for
Customs, where the air conditioning had conveniently decided to die in the
middle of a scorching LA morning, finally we were free and set loose upon
America.
Our rental car was big, luxurious, and, thankfully, had
excellent air conditioning. After driving around in circles trying to follow
the instructions we’d been given, we eventually decided to just plug in our
Vegas address in the GPS and go with its flow. Dubbing her ‘Betty Sue’, she
soon led us on our way.
We’d barely gone a few blocks before we saw our first
incidence of LA crime. Two very young looking lads were being led away in handcuffs
from a rather flash car that I suspect they didn’t own.
The city of Los Angeles is massive. It took hours just to
make it out of the city and on our way through the desert. By this time, night
had fallen. All that could be seen in any direction were two bright snakes
spanning five lanes each – one red, heading for Vegas in front of us, and the
other white, going back the way we’d come.
Stopping for something to eat should have been a simple
thing, but the freeway is confusing. After googling what the best burgers were
thereabouts, Betty Sue led us on another merry circle to Tommy’s Original in Barstow
(or Bakersfield, I never did quite figure out where she’d taken us). Their
chilli burgers were all that was promised – but their ‘medium’ drinks came in
such a huge bucket-like cup that I only filled mine a quarter full to get a
normal sized portion of coke!
On the road again, and we were on our final jaunt to Vegas.
Lights appeared in the distance, and our excitement grew.
Glittering, shiny… small? This wasn’t Vegas at all! But instead Primm, which we
dubbed ‘mini-Vegas’. Or teaser-Vegas, perhaps. Soon enough though, we came upon
Vegas proper.
Words cannot describe the sense of overwhelmed awe that the
first sight of Vegas inspires. The sheer size, lights and movement of
everything is like a rollercoaster for the senses. For a sheltered gal from
Christchurch, the decadence and in-your-face money of the place was almost
obscene. My first thought was that it’s Disneyland for grown-ups.
Betty Sue led us on what seemed like a wild goose chase,
trying to find out how to get to the valet parking at our hotel, Bally’s. The
usual route in, which we’d researched, was closed for roadworks. But eventually
we made it.
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| Our hotel, Bally's |
The valet was incredibly rude, and we were incredibly tired
and not disposed to feel charitable towards whatever had happened in his day to
make him such a grump. My first introduction to a tippable service was that
this time, we weren’t going to tip at all.
Eventually though, we ended up checked in, reunited with our
luggage, and able to brush our teeth – which I’d been hanging out to do for
hours by that stage.
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| The Conservatory in Bellagio |
Shortly we ended up in conversation with a couple of lovely
guys from Arizona, John and Jim, who were having a boys’ weekend in Vegas; and
another guy (whose name I’ve forgotten) who was telling us all about the suite
he got upgraded to, and also invited us to a party in said suite. It was a real
novelty having our accent be the strange one!
The sun was well and truly up by the time we finally retired
for the night. And after snatching only a couple of hours of sleep, it was time
to grab Vegas with both hands and see what she had to offer us.
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