I'm not sure if I needed a year to be able to physically write about it. Or if I had buried the experience so deep in my subconscious, that it has been lost for the last 12 months.
You can probably already guess that I am not a Vegas fan. This is not a tale of debauchery gone too far and filled with regret. There's no tigers in bathrooms, no crazy monkey stories, no shotgun weddings with Elvis. This is simply the rare tale of one person, ironically underwhelmed by Sin City.
I didn't set out expecting to be impressed.
I was fairly certain before I embarked on the Vegas adventure that this was not my typical voyage du jour and that it was missing from my bucket list for a reason. It was, however, everything I expected it to be. Just not in a good way.
But, I like a party as much as the next person, so off I trekked with my own way too excited company and got ready to get my Vegas on.
Pre-travel disappointment precaution was duly done and I went straight to the top, with luxury rooms booked at the iconic Bellagio.
They were great, despite their ginormous (isn't everything) room capacity, I was greeted by name and had personalised gifts waiting for me in my room. That bit was fab. Had I stayed right there, Vegas might have been right up my street...
I was fairly certain before I embarked on the Vegas adventure that this was not my typical voyage du jour and that it was missing from my bucket list for a reason. It was, however, everything I expected it to be. Just not in a good way.
Pre-travel disappointment precaution was duly done and I went straight to the top, with luxury rooms booked at the iconic Bellagio.
They were great, despite their ginormous (isn't everything) room capacity, I was greeted by name and had personalised gifts waiting for me in my room. That bit was fab. Had I stayed right there, Vegas might have been right up my street...
Unfortunately I didn't. I battled the Strip and all it's feather flouncing can-can dancers with pert bottoms. I battled the swimming pools of Spring Break weekenders, and their high pitched screams. I battled the gold lamé hotel shops, the boredom of slot machines and lasted 5 minutes trying to learn poker. I battled the wince of a fake Eifel Tower, pretend gondolas and fabricated pyramids. Everyday was a battle, but I battled on and made my best efforts to grin and bear it.
Nothing was going to get me to love Vegas. Big, gaudy, garish, overtly fake, incredulously silly, Vegas.
Then I got hungry. Finally, the surprise I needed to survive the longest five days of my life. I certainly didn't anticipate the dining, and the surprise was more than pleasant. Surrounded in bling ker-ching, the one good thing that is big in Sin City is the restaurant scene. Top chefs, top restaurants, top food from every region, every taste. By far my best was José Andrés French and Julian Serrano a the Aria.
My nightly dessert, a double serving of the Bellagio fountains. That, I did love. Every dance, every song, I could have taken in the fountains all evening. In fact, I think I did, all to stay out of the mayhem of casinos.
My nightly dessert, a double serving of the Bellagio fountains. That, I did love. Every dance, every song, I could have taken in the fountains all evening. In fact, I think I did, all to stay out of the mayhem of casinos.
Ocean's 11 this was not. Claire de Lune, did not engulf my every movement.
What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas, they say. I say, keep it all, stories and all. I doubt I will return. That's a fairly safe bet, guaranteed to win.
What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas, they say. I say, keep it all, stories and all. I doubt I will return. That's a fairly safe bet, guaranteed to win.
'Til next time, Pandora.
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