Vegas will win

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Vegas 3 into 1!
It has been a while since I last updated you...and a lot has happened. We arrive at LA airport to meet the ever entertaining high octane Mr Fisher, however we have a small problem, our taxi driver has dropped us at departures. My heart sunk as I thought I had explained it crystal clear that we needed to go to arrivals - Christ I went over this 87.5 times with you nice man with no English.

We immediately fear the worst - a 100 km walk through LAX with the push me pull you fiasco that is manoeuvring your luggage around an airport. We head in through the first set of doors and hope the answer to our question is going to be good..."How far to the Virgin Australia arrival?" "Not far Sir just down the escalator and you will see it there". I could have kissed you lady...you got off lightly with a relieved thank you!!!

Ms Roling decided to empty her bladder and comes out of the bathrooms with the fear of God smacked across her face, "I have lost my passport AND the keys to my suitcase" "WHAT?" "I can't find them". After checking the travel wallet thoroughly the passport is found and so too are the keys (which were accidentally emptied into the bathroom bin while cookie crumbs were emptied out of the handbag).

We make our way to arrivals and meet Mr Fisher, after some quick pleasantries and signing our soul over to the devil we head to our wheels - a bright orange SRT8 with 460 horsepower in the true American away it's all about cubic capacity 6.2 L Hemi.

Mr Fisher takes the first stint...we probably haven't thought this through too well. A man sleep deprived, pumped for Vegas and with the patience of a Judge dealing with Lindsay Lohan.

We attempt to load the GPS unit up with our destination, VEGAS. The GPS unit was, terrible, cumbersome and if I if may be so frank, FUCKN useless. The girl next door voice over comes back with 11 hours travel time...we are not walking there lady we are in an American icon here. I demand better from you.So we scroll through menu after menu and finally find the unit defaults automatically to no freeways. Hmmm I can only but assume Mobil designed this unit ensuring in unsuspecting tourists like us blindly accept the suggested route.

We have now shaved 7 hours off our journey at least we thought we had...
We travel for an hour and Mr Fisher fading fast he needs to rest his weary eyes and fill up on a cholesterol artery blocking burger from Carl's Jnr.
We jump back into the SRT, my turn to drive and I would be lying if I didn't say I was slightly anxious.

We get back on the freeway and tick off the miles, we are making good time I can almost taste my first white Russian (for those of you with your mind in the gutter it's a cocktail). It's been two hours so we switch drivers again.

Thus far we have only received one toot, this belongs to Mr Fisher and one "oh shit you are on the wrong side", this belongs to me.

We are now about 45 minutes from Vegas, the temperature is a blistering 43 degrees and we are all looking forward to getting out of the car, alas we would be in the car for another 4 hours as we get confronted with the mother of all traffic jams.

We crawl along for 4 hours, 3 lanes jammed, packed in the middle of the desert.
We make friendly with a truck driver and he advises us there has been an accident and then there is the guy in the Nissan GTR, he's getting worried as he's getting low on gas. It becomes apparent that we too are now paying the price for 8 hungry mouths, the SRT8 is in need of fuel too.

So drastic measures are placed, we coast in neutral and turn the aircon off in early 40s heat.

We pull off the freeway and swap drivers as Mr Fisher is fading, and needs to get rid the blue gatorade he guzzled. He finds a Joshua tree and marks his territory in the middle of Death Valley to the sounds of toots and cheers.

We rejoin the Freeway and crawl along, we have now been in the car for 8.5 hours, the good news is we will enter the strip at dark which is apparently the best time - kind of goes without saying I guess.

We make our way past the scene that caused all the drama, we find out later there was a massive chemical spill.

We need petrol so pull off at the first available exit to what looks like a mini Vegas to fill the SRT8 and run into our Freeway mate in the Skyline, he made it too only just though.
We blast along the freeway and in the distance we can see the glow on the horizon...she city of sin is just around the corner.

We arrive and Vegas does not disappoint, the place is crazy full with bright lights, people and cars everywhere!

We check in and Mr Fisher has already started his room tab - 3 beers downed by 3 people who have been in a car for 10 hours!

We freshen up and wander around getting our bearings and lose track of time. Ms Roling heads off to bed and Mr Fisher and I grab breakfast - yes it was daylight.
I eventually rise at about 11am sporting a minor hangover...but that's the least of my of my worries.

Today we are doing our Helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon and I just remembered flying and I have an uneasy relaitonship that usually results in me having a relationship with the porcelain god.

So after numerous visits, we are picked up by limo...we are in Vegas people - you didn't really think it would be anything subtle did you.

I'm now stuffed in helicopter and have just been told this is the worst flight of the day to do, it will be bumpy but don't worry choppers can fly through anything. I'm not sure if this is said to reassure or is a matter of fact either way it doesn't do anything for my cold sweat!

The chopper takes off and we head towards one of the 7 great wonders of the world, The Grand Canyon, but before we get there we take in amazing views of the Hoover Dam and Lake Mead. As we approach the Canyon we climb it is quite a theatrical approach. Then it greets you with its sheer size almost mystical like. It is only then the 45 minutes of sweats become worth it, very worth it.

We fly down into the Grand Canyon and land, it's only then we all notice it's hot bloody hot - 43 degrees to be exact.

We disembark the chopper and wander around taking pictures and basically taking it all in. As lunch is part of the trip, we all gather under a mesh like tent and partake in Champagne and a filled roll, an unusual mix....but practical if you will.

Lunch is about 30 minutes, we then board the chopper and head back we take off and head out of the Canyon, as we head over the top of the rim the Chopper drops suddenly...this causes an automatic grab of the seat ahead of me and the base of my seat, I resemble an awkward Michael Jackson pose. I quietly ask myself is this really going to help if the worst happens?

We finish the flight off by cruising over the impressive strip, it even looks epic from above.

That night we head out to a proper restaurant, by that I mean one that serves food not terrible diner food with extra mayo, I guess to be fair Vegas is not know for its culinary expertise.

This sets the scene for a VERY big night in Vegas...so as not to bore you with details - what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But to help you paint by numbers...we experienced huge clubs and another sunrise accompanied with what is becoming an all to familiar feeling...a hangover!

So we are now day 3.

Vegas is starting to eat away at my sole, the bright lights, the offers of girls, drugs and the ever present heat are now all too familiar and have lost their novelty factor.

So we all struggle to the Encore beach party...not a place for a hungover people.
I'll set the scene. Verve champagne , woman in skimpy bikinis and high heals, cocktails and and people far to excited about being in a pool with strangers to not be high!

We endure 2 hours of this and decide...no more!!! We leave and decide a quiet show is in order. The question has been raised...will Browney remain awake?h He now resembles the wreck of a man who has challenged Vegas one too many times! His now famous quote " Fisher we have beaten Vegas two nights in a row and have outlasted this supposedly 24 hour party town" as we sought bars at 5am in the morning.

It is now that Vegas is has a rye smile upon her face, no one can beat Vegas!

After much consultation we decide on Jersey Boys. And yes Mum I stayed awake and I will admit it was actually quite good.

We all head home to pack and eventually get to bed for 11pm- Ms Roling and I have a 3 am wake up call so we can get to the airport for our next destination - New York! And Mr Fisher has the unenviable task of driving the SRT8 back to LA. For all reading this he did make it back in one piece...but 9 Red Bulls and the stereo and wharp nine was required.

So we all leave vowing to be back.

Vegas IS the city of sin, the adult playground in the desert. If you need to escape reality this place will oblige....just remember these simple rules!

Vegas will win

Vegas will win

And what happens in Vegas certainly stays in Vegas!!

Final note: If you would like a good laugh, type "Encore Pool Party" into YouTube and prepare to be amazed.

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Comments

[Peter C.]

Great Reading....don't stop
Hey guys, thoroughly enjoying your holiday with you. I don't care how little time you have to write, you can't stop as it's the best material I have read for some time. I have always had a reluctance to long haul flying and now I know why. I don't think I will ever be able to get into a plane again without thinking of all the farting that will be going on. You've ruined it forever!