I spent a lovely week in Las Vegas with TLO, and although he spent most of the daytime working, I lolled about and carried on like I had no care in the world. There was none, for that blip of time. It is uncommon to find myself not doing anything at all, and heaven forbid, during a vacation. But I am glad that this trip came about at a good time during this summer. School is starting to irritate me, not so much about having to attend but all the unexpected changes that screwed up the entire summer calendar. I do not wish to delve into the gory details, but let's just put it this way: if anything moves in my school calendar, and my work schedule, there is a dear price to pay, and a a hefty sum to lose. I could only roll my eyes, sigh and plow along, knowing that this is a momentary inconvenience. Back to the details of the jaunt.
The trip was a quite comfy 45 minute flight on JetBlue from Long Beach. I got to the airport on time, found a sweet parking spot near the terminal and looked in awe as my right rear tire slowly deflated. I did not bother to even scream in panic, I was on my way and did not wish to send myself off in panic. Let the tire deflate, then call someone when I return. Such sweet life.
Las Vegas remains the same. The characters that inhabit the bright nights may come and go, but the spirit lives on. It is still surreal, but a bit fancier than in the past. I have not seen 5 or 6 Dior or Vuitton stores in the same ZIP code anywhere in the country, carrying the same inventory, lording over almost equal floor spaces. Call it excess, but then , was I not standing at the epicenter of excess in all its manifestations? So I decided to plot a different twist to my Vegas week. No gambling for me. I was a born loser on games of cards, coins and such, although a bit courageous and more fortunate on other aspects of chance. One may only drink so much before puking it all out, then doing it again. I have gastric reflux, and drinking to excess is so beneath my diagnosis. So scratch that one off the list. That left me with a few worthwhile pursuits, which come quite naturally. Eating, lounging and shopping.
The lounging part was a no-brainer. We were holed up in the tres grand hotel du jour, with a proper view of the western desert plains, a fierce sunset, and looking down over the awnings of Neiman Marcus. No direct strip view from this end, gladly. That would be much of a cliche, I guess. The room was festive with Warhol prints cast about the paneled walls, and reproduction Picasso from the builder's collection. I am just amazed not so much at the scale of this resort project, but the meticulous attention bestowed on the every detail. The end result was discreetly elegant and lovely, and never gave an impression of superficial gloss. I would not mind coming back, at all. Every detail was well thought, down to the knobs, tile pattens, carpet pile, and tile relief. Walking along the spa corridors was an experience in itself, with the bas relief travertine applications on the walls, the gilded bamboo, artwork and fun touches that reminded one of great finds during travels in exotic places. Casual and cool with an seemingly informed view, but not trendy and shallow.
The pool was not as gorgeous as the one in that other hotel with the ginormous fountain on its front yard, but the cabanas in this hotel were quite charming. The towel service was prompt, there were no nasty fights for lounge chairs, and there were enough for everyone. It did not take me a whole day to get the tan I wanted. I almost felt myself passing out in the desert heat, if not for the indulgent misters propped on the umbrellas all over the poolside. Recipe for disaster: 109 degree weather, sun, and a killer mojito. I survived, luckily, and had a great flawless tan to show for it. The unfortunate part is that the building obscures the late afternoon sun and the last call for a good tan is 4:00 p.m. I guess, after which, you just basically admire however toasty you ended up with the scant sun. Oh, the marvels and curse of fancy architecture.
Next up, the food experience.
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