Monday, February 18, 2008

What happens when the sun comes out

Okay so I should have posted a post-script to yesterday's entry because I completely neglected to comment on the spectacular light show that we watched on the lake out the front of Bellagio after the Cirque show. I mean, it's only one of the most famous attractions in Vegas after all!

The Bellagio Fountain

Now that picture of course shows you the fountains and light show from the FRONT of the Hotel, but me and JK didn't want to have to stand in a crowd three people deep in order to appreciate the view. So being the clever chap that he is, JK suggested that we view the spectacle with a glass of champagne, from INSIDE the Bellagio's Fontana bar. They have a beautiful terrace that you can go and stand on, to fully appreciate the enormity of the fountain sprays, set to music (just like fireworks might be). I tell you, after that experience, and the Cirque show, I was on overstimulation-mode. Thanks be to God for the champagne.

[Now we can move to the morning after.....Saturday, Part 1]

Las Vegas is a round-the-clock town, indoors particularly. At any time of day, the croupiers are 'dealing' with patrons at all stages of intoxication, and the bars and restaurants and full of tourists re-fuelling for the next round of partying.

And during the daylight hours outdoors, there isn't much to do on The Strip other than walk around and get a grip on the adult wonderland you've landed in.

So when Saturday morning rolled around, and the sheer scope of the previous evening's Cirque de Soleil show was still seeping in, Gab the Goldfish took a shower and prepared to face Daytime Vegas.

We scrambled aboard 'The Deuce' and rode it to "New York, New York" casino to appreciate their breakfast buffet. The restaurant we went into was in the casino's China Town, so I scooped some BBQ onto my breakfast plate but stopped short of spring rolls and wontons. I have to tell you, BBQ pork for breakfast was pretty darn good. And with my belly full of the rather noxious combination of BBQ pork, orange juice, and filtered coffee, we set off.

JK played the tables for a bit and I wandered around the cheap souvenir shops upstairs. When he'd finished, he tried yet again to convince me to ride the huge roller coaster at the "New York New York" but naturally I didn't budge.

I think you could probably convince me to eat or drink just about anything from any culture around the world. You could talk me into travelling just about anywhere or talking to just about anyone. But don't ask me to pay to sit in a tiny carriage up monstrously high above street level, and then speed around a narrow track at break-neck speed for three torturous minutes. It's just not gonna happen. And so JK had to abandon his idea for the Rollercoaster of Death ride. Too bad, so sad chum.

Then we crossed the road to a cheap souvenir shop to assess the postcard situation. I'm a big postcard person, and am constantly on the lookout for the glitziest, most hollogramic postcards I can find. And if they were going to exist anywhere, it would be Vegas - right? Sadly I was let down on this front. Most of the postcards I found were simple location shots of sparkly night scenes, or daytime location shots of the Casinos. So having selected some of these cards, the cash register lady told us that we could buy postcard stamps in a vending machine at the 7-11 adjacent to her store.

We found the machine and I started ferreting through my purse for the required number of quarters. Then JK, the numbers man, did a quick calculation and stopped me. "How can a 90-cent stamp cost you $1.75?". And sure enough, the machine advertised 90-cent stamps but required you to insert 7 quarters ($1.75). WHAT THE? Another example of Vegas trying to take our money. So we left the 7-11, scratching our heads.

A quick wander through M&M World and Coke Land - or whatever those too emporia were actually called, and then we rocked up at Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum. Fabulous ability to get up close and personal (and even rather grabby) with some celebs. Anyone who tries to tell me that Marilyn Monroe was a US size 14 is a smelly liar. I don't think the dress she was wearing at the museum would have even zipped up on me! But she still looked pretty great. And just seeing the wax figure of Lucille Ball cracked me up.

We wandered past "Treasure Island" casino, and I had a couple of margaritas at their bar where I was pretty much mesmerised by the bartenders who were flipping bottles in the manner of Tom Cruise in "Cocktail" - it was all pretty impressive. But then I was tired and we decided that an afternoon lie-down would be a good idea in preparation for our big night of activities.

Which I will blog about tomorrow bwahahahah (evil laugh).....

1 comment:

glamah16 said...

A size 14 in the 50's and Sixties is not the equvilant of today. All I can say after reading this is I'm going to Vegas next year to see Cher.