Cruising past Caesars Palace and the Eiffel Tower we suddenly realised the monstrosity of Vegas. With neon lights flashing every which-way you look, the Bellagio's water fountain spraying up 80meters into the air performing for the folks on the street and a police bike booking a young man on a motorbike in the middle of The Strip, there wasn't a shortage of things too ooh and ahh at.
We found New York, New York and pulled into what would be our home for the next 3 nights.
Checking in, we found we were walking through the "streets of New York" towards the Chrysler Elevator. New York pizza, pretzels and a particularly intimidating looking steak house lined the cobbled path upon which we ambled. I couldn't recall cobbled streets in New York, but perhaps had I have taken the time to chisel away the century old chewing-gum and gollies coating the pavement I may have.
Left at the Starbucks and right at the burger bar, and finally we were at the elevator. We dumped bags, dolled up a bit (Especially the boys - I was still sporting Sorels) and then it was out to the adult-candyland.
More or less immediately after leaving the front door of the hotel we found ourselves walking along the Brooklyn Bridge towards the statue of Liberty before coming down to the ground level of The Strip.
We soon learnt that looking around in appreciative awe was impossible as we were flocked by street hawkers flicking tickets at us and being told by a giant black man that we could 'eat a filet mignon off a naked lady'. As tempting as that was, we pressed on to Bubba Gumps, where we had one of our most average meals of the trip. An entire restaurant dedicated to Forest Gump is quite ample but having one of the staff asking people in the queue Forest Gump quiz questions is more than enough. I loved the film when I was younger and used to watch it quite frequently with my brother, but some of these people in the line knew all the answers. Which was somewhat frustrating because I knew that although they could recall what street Lieutenant Dan lived on, majority of them didn't know what language Australians commonly spoke.
The smoke from The Strip and our hotels casino was upsetting my asthma a bit, and having not brought my inhaler with me from the hotel, I thought I'd just pop into a CVS and see if I was even able to get Ventolin over the counter, although I didn't like my chances. I was accurate in my prediction, a script was indeed required. However, the pharmacist quickly informed me there were some pills for $12 I could purchase without a script which would take 30-45minutes to kick in. Deciding to leave it (I had Ventolin and preventer back at the hotel) but out of sick curiosity, I thought I'd see how much Ventolin was. So for those who don't know I'll put this in perspective; In Australia Ventolin is about $13 (Doesn't require a script), England £7 (Requires a script), and in the land of the free, merry ol' US of A, it is $52!! Had a good laugh at that, much to the pharmacists confusion.
Post pharmacy visit we resumed our Strip wanderings, slipping into Planet Hollywood. Brewskis in hand, we wandered around this casino, catching glimpses of girls dancing in next to nothing on the tables. We pressed onto Paris, aptly marked with an almighty Eiffel tower out the front, putting Park Road's somewhat to shame. The main difference between Paris and Planet Hollywood was everything in Paris had a 'Le' in front of it, eg. Le Casino, Le Cafe, Le Hotdog, Le Lavotories etc. Not overly impressed, we found a tunnel which connected to Bally's, and headed towards that so as to avoid the chilly wind of The Strip. Spotting an Oxygen Bar at the end of the tunnel, Robert and I were excited at the novelty and readily parted with our $10 for 10 minutes of "oxygen" and vibrating plastic octopuses, wire head massages and electro-muscle relaxer pads, for a full sense of harmony.
I'm not a fan of the electric pads at the best of times, but Robert told me turning it up to its highest setting was a hilarious way to induce involuntary spasms all the way down your arms. Foolishly I did as he said, despite hating the use of the TENS machine back home, and found an unpleasant lack of limb control. After 8 minutes of being "relaxed" and inhaling flower scented oxygen, I was quite ready to move on to less healthy activities, as was Robert. I removed my hospital tube and attempted to removed my electric-charged pads, only to find mini-shocks firing through my thumbs. Crying out, good ol Uncle Bobby turned off the impulses via the device, telling me I should really do that before I try to remove it. Thankful, I proceeded to remove the pads, only to have the Oxygen Bar lady come over and tell me I had to turn the pads off before I took them off, and she pressed a button, restarting the impulses, sending shocks down through my thumbs once more, making me look like a gibbering, double-thumbed, hitchhiking freak, complete with crazed head-massage hair.
We pressed on into the belly of the casino and purchased more drinks. The water show at Bellagio was due to start shortly, so we headed across The Strip to watch. Huge jets of water burst up into the air in time with the music which played. The illusion was somewhat spoiled with the heavily chlorine scented spray reaching us. We entered the Bellagio, which was as impressive as the others, but without the girls dancing on the tables, which added a pinch of class. We found a club which appeared to be quite happening inside the casino and headed on over to there. Robert got in, as did Clint and Flood... But I wasn't dressed well enough (NB: Might just add here that I had redone my hair, by this stage!)!! Apparently jeans and sensible water-proof boots aren't appropriate for a night out in Vegas! Fair enough, I suppose. After all, we had decided the first night would be a recce to see what we could and could not get away with (clothes, shoes, street drinking, indoor smoking etc). We pressed onto Caesars Palace, which had many amazing shops, including some affordable ones! I picked up a dress so as not to get caught out the following evening!
We meandered on into Cosmopolitan and had another couple of drinks then called it a night, so we could make the most of the next day, which included a helicopter flight into the Grand Canyon. Three of us were all still recovering from the dizzy heights of Rio's Carnaval and international flights, which left the exception of Clint who flew his Aussie battler flag high and proud and kicked on into the evening to make the most of his Vegas experience. We later found out that after leaving us he left the Cosmo an hopped in a limousine which he cruised up and down the Strip in for a good time! Like a boss!!
At 5am Robert's alarm went off and in his state of semi-consciousness he phoned the helicopter tour people to book us into the flight later that day... It was a less than victorious phone call as I heard him say to the lady on the other end "Oh sorry, I've screwed all of that up, I just woke up". I later found out the lady was extremely helpful and patient with Robert after many "Ok, sir, that's ok sir, thank you sir"'s and "Sir, that's not the reference number I'm after". Eventually everything worked out, Robert hung up and fell back asleep.
And then 3 and a half hours later, Clint got home!
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