Day 1: The Eighteen Hour Tour
DISCLAIMER!! My photos are broken. Stupid new Facebook photo layout confusing me. Sorry, all. I'll do my best to get those to you embedded soon. Soon meaning when my tech support isn't sound asleep and when it's not 2:00 in the morning. For now, check them out here.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am indeed in Las Vegas, Nevada and yes indeed I have been awake for more than eighteen straight hours and with only three caffeinated beverages, gods help me. The journey began from my local airport in the land of Cascadia, and Vegas is only a hop skip and a jump from there (especially in comparison to my last vacation flight, a return journey of three terminals and a total of fourteen grueling hours).
The day opened in Cascadia, however, with a slight fiasco. Amidst thoughts of underwear which appear as bits of the constitution for the people reading the body scanners, I was pulled aside so that my over-full carryon could be wanded. Guess who forgot to leave her Swiss Army Knife at home? Insert appropriate facepalm or deaddesk here, please. Did you hurt yourself? No? Good. Moving on.
When said hop skip and turbulent jump were safely over and after finding our rental car, we cruised the strip. What an experience. Being a full supporter of local, small businesses and sustainable goods, Las Vegas felt like a long way from home, and I loved it. The lights, the glamour, even the grit – there’s something so very human about this city, and at the same time something so inaccessible it becomes almost ridiculous. But this is philosophical I-have-no-brain-juices talk. Let’s get to the juicy stuff.
Post-witnessing the hustle and bustle from afar we cruised our way to the Luxor, usually referred to as the “Egyptian” or “Tut” hotel. But once inside, and after seeing the view of it at night lit up, it feels more like something out of the 1994 film Stargate than an Egyptian tomb. Sure there’s a larger than life Sphinx and Anubises, Pharaohs, and hieroglyphics everywhere, but there are also glyphs that are clearly not Egyptian and a few statues that even seem to directly reference the aforementioned film: . I love it. And then there’s the fact that it’s hollow inside, filled up with a veritable city you can look down on from every floor. [insert photo here] There are also some interesting – if slightly unexpected – exhibits here in the hotel, mainly Bodyworks and an exhibit with artifacts from the Titanic: we hope to hit those tomorrow, as the weather is supposed to take a turn for the foul and badass and whip up a thunderstorm.
After checking in and discovering our room – which is only accessible by DIAGONAL elevator, whut?! – we ate terrible buffet food and hit the strip. We strolled our way past Excalibur and New York New York, peeping in to shops (like the four-story tall m&ms store!) and casinos, avoiding the latter for the density of cigarette smoke present, discovering a few gems along the way. Next we marveled at the façade of the Monte Carlo where I nearly stepped off the curb into an idling bus only to turn around and discover a coworker of mine from campus with his girlfriend, both waving enthusiastically. My jaw hit my chest. It was one of the best moments of the day. In retrospect, I wish that I’d been skilled enough to snap a picture of them. After all, I did have the camera out.
Remember those gems I mentioned? Those come next. In one of the many shopping-mall style buildings (the Crystal Shops, I think), we first came across a frames shop (the name escapes me) that was not full of reproductions, oh no. It was instead full to brimming with vintage frames dating from 1910 onward, with their most expensive pieces – at over two thousand bucks a pop – in a fancy safe at the back, the kind with gold and silver scrollwork and old lettering painted on the front. Not only did I get to try on retro frames from the 50s, the salesperson, who was extremely friendly and knowledgeable, showed me to their earliest pieces. Round frames from 1910? That I can try on? Be still, my beating heart!! She then insisted on showing me the WWII aviator frames in the safe, one pair of which she INSISTED I try on. I about fainted I was so excited. If you’re interested, check out their website [link/broken]. But that’s only half the fun. The other shop – which had a store front entirely made of old sewing machines [photo] was AllSaints. Never have I seen a ‘high fashion’ style which so suited my sensibilities, barring only perhaps Skingraft. AllSaints was retro and funky in a fusion, slapped-together with straps and leather and buckles and frogs kind of way, and I quailed at the prices. I think it’s time to hit the goodwill and tear things apart to make them into something chic.
After that slight misadventure we headed to what has become my favorite hotel as of yet – the Bellagio. Speaking of fainting, oh lordie. It’s beautiful. And I mean that in the sincerest way that I possibly can. Not only is there a spectacular ceiling in the lobby a la Portland glass artist Dale Chihuly [photo], there is a garden room. It’s indescribable, almost surreal to find in a place like Vegas. The flowers are real and vibrantly fragrant, there’s a greenhouse which plays home to butterflies, and to top it off there is not only a ferris wheel, there’s a carousel. Neither of which you can ride, sadly, but it’s an incredibly soothing room. Of course the Bellagio is also the hotel which houses Cirque du Soleil’s O, a show we’ll see later this week. I am BESIDE myself. The hotel is also home to the exquisite work of Richard MacDonald, who models his awe-inspiring sculptures off of Cirque performers. Check it out, they’re gorgeous. I’m a particular fan of Blind Faith [photo].
We stuck around to watch the Bellagio’s famous waterworks as well, which was definitely worth it. Next we were off to Paris and the copy of the Eiffel Tower, or, as they call it, the Eiffel Tour. So clever! [/sarcasm]. The ride to the top in the glass-plated, bronze-riveted, vaguely Steamy, triangular elevator was pretty exciting, and the view was beautiful. Now if only I hadn’t accidentally brought the Bellingham wind to the desert with me…
(Also, what is WITH these crazy elevators? Triangular, people!!)
We continued cruising after that, moving down the strip to the Sugar Factory, which broke my will. The walls are lined with photos of celebrities toting their lollipops, and I gave in. They’re just so sparkly…you’ll see what I mean after I get my coveted photo in front of the store.
After that we hit New York New York again, this time for the roller coaster. It was shockingly legit. I had to ride it twice. There was some great anti-gravity (g-force?) action, and I think the photo snapped by the automatic station says it all: [photo/coming soon, when I have a scanner!]
Finally, we hi-tailed it to the Hard Rock café, where we had the best service we received all day and I personally consumed one of the best burgers on the planet (I am convinced) while rocking out to wonders ranging from David Bowie’s China Girl and Queen’s Find Me Somebody to Love to Avenged Sevenfold, Everclear, and Pink.
The last misadventure on the eighteen hour tour was a misplaced tram, but we ended up back in the Luxor eventually, and who really minds a Vegas scenic route? Now it’s far too late, or early, the city is lit up outside the Luxor and the city bounds are distinctly marked where the nothingness of the desert begins. And, while Las Vegas is the city that never sleeps, I can’t quite keep up with that standard. So, for tomorrow, pray for thunder over the Luxor, and I’ll see you at Treasure Island for Cirque’s Mystère.
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