America's Wild West

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To Havasu and back
Doug Pickles Westward ho to the Arizona desert and Lake Havasu. Some may remember a tale of a wealthy American business buying London Bridge under the mistaken belief that he was actually buying Tower Bridge. Well, Lake Havasu is where, brick by brick, London Bridge now stands and it was at this strange town in the middle of the desert that the Batchelor Party weekend began.

The atmosphere on the lake as we motor-boated out on Saturday began rather sedately with families picnicking and boats cruising around. However it wasn’t long until we discovered Copper Canyon. If you’ve ever seen footage from videos like “Spring Break Goes Wild” then you’ll have an idea of what we were confronted with. It was reassuring for a sweet innocent Scottish guy like me that even some of the west coast Americans in our group were a little taken aback by the level of hedonism presenting itself. The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze, although I do remember seeing a few guys in the Borat swimsuit and meeting people from almost every corner of the United States. I’ll let the selected photos do the rest of the talking.

After a night spent in a hip bar by the side of the lake, we rose early. Destination: Rehab at the Hard Rock Hotel, Paradise Road, Las Vegas, Nevada. The anticipation before the event was justified. Thousands of beautiful people partying by the pool under the 40 degree sun - it was a cocktail for an amazing afternoon. With our fast beers, tight shorts and milk bottle white bodies we stood out well beside the lean, tattooed dudes and tanned silicone chested ladies. The main activity to be had was people-watching and we did plenty of that. As the alcohol took hold, we proceeded with laughs and high jinx. That evening, over our steak dinner, we tried to piece together our trial of destruction from who did what when, who got thrown out for what and who had a bleeding nose in the pool. In the end it was too difficult, so we hit the Strip instead.

I made it out the other side of the weekend alive, but in terrible shape. The worst part, as I lay nursing my head the next morning was the prospect of another day in that heat with no hotel or pool to chill out in, a 2 hour flight, followed by a 4 hour layover in LA, followed by a 15 hour flight to Sydney. But we continue….

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