Viva Las Vegas, Indeed

There is much to say about this little swath of desert that has had its fantastic, luxurious habitat pastede on yay. Others have said most of it, so here's a laundry-list of impressions.

( The Bellagio is not quite how it looks in the Oceans Eleven remake. )

We spent much of our days wandering through the other hotels (of which I have taken an infinite number of pictures). There's the obvious differences in theme, of course, but equally fascinating are the different vibes / markets aimed at...which may or may not seem incongruous with said theme. Excalibur looks like a kid's castle play set, but it's clearly aiming for the trashier, frat-tastic demographic. Treasure Island is trying to downplay the pirates thing and replace it with bQQbies. Monte Carlo looks as if it was built to be high-end, but based on the stores inside they're trying for the middlin' market. And then there's the newest places like Aria and Cosmopolitan, which are eschewing themes at all other than "sleek and modernistic".

I was surprised at how many older, skeevier-looking places are still interspersed with the mondo huge resorts. I'd just assumed they'd all been bulldozed in, but not so. Some have been borged by them--e.g., O'Shea's, at which outside bar I left my camera, is actually owned by the Flamingo next door; but you wouldn't know unless you happened to go on a merry backstage quest with a security guy to the Place of Lost And Found which leads you into the guts of the Flamingo--but I think some are still independent.

( People watching. )

This is not a cocktail society. Nearly everything is a stupidtini with flavored vodka. Save your effort and just get cheap frozen daiquiris. Though I made a connection with a bartender, who used to live on 79th and Amsterdam, and I said "here, do me a solid. Make this French 75 you have here on your menu, but give it to me in a champagne flute not a wine glass, and DON'T PUT ICE IN IT." We got on famously. I do not blame him for his employer's weird-ass ideas of what a drink looks like as long as he'll fix it my way on request.

Coffee is weak like most of the US. But there are Starbucks in many of the hotels (though not ours), so you can get something that doesn't taste like brown crayon. Exception: the French bistro in Paris Las Vegas had nice strong coffee.

The Grand Canyon is everything it says on the box. You get a hell of a view flying in by helicopter, I can tell you. I would like to go visit on foot at some point, though. And Lake Mead looks incredibly inviting when it is 115 fucking degrees.

So even when it's well over 100, you jump in the pool, and you're cold when you get out because the wind is usually so strong. Then there's a period of an hour or so where you're staying cool through evaporation (unless you're in direct sunlight, in which case you fry in about 15 minutes). Then it's suddenly too hot to breathe and you jump back in the pool and start all over again. But what really drives you back inside? You get so dried out from the 11% humidity that you feel like your skin is cracking...even when it's still wet from the pool. Terribly odd feeling, this.

We have not visited Fremont St. and the old downtown. Could have today, but opted for a lazy day instead. That's okay.

I have not gambled yet. The games seem to fall into two categories: "for suckers" and "for big-time suckers". Tonight I may try Bond's method on the roulette wheel (back two of 1-12, 13-24, 25-36; they pay 2:1) or I may not. Do you know, the baccarat they play here, you do not get to choose whether to draw another card or not? What bullshit is this?

It's been a really fascinating and fun vacation, but I think I'm ready to come home and get back to my modest city mouse ways.