Wednsday 23rd December 2009
When Jan and I were planning this trip Las Vegas was always the first place we both knew we wanted to come. He had been before; this is my first time. I had always thoguth we would see it together.
Now I am here without Jan, it is going to be tough.
Immediatley you arrive in the airport, it feels like nowhere else. They have slot machines and gambling in the baggage reclaim area, along with large screens advertising Cirque de Soleil and Cher in Concert.
Outside there are enough neon lights and huge plasma screens to make Blackpool look gaudy. And I love a bit of neon.
We had booked rooms at the Luxor: the big, black pyramid of a hotel. When it was built it was one of the largets hotels in Vegas, now it is dwarfed by others around it. We decided not to waste the reservation, so here I am.
You can tell it is a luxurious room, as it has a table and arm chairs to sit on. No sitting on the bed to watch TV in this room.
Inside the hotel it is noisey, like a family of five demented children on the tube can be noisey. Everything wants your attention at the same time and insists that you join in with the fun.
It also has that feel of New Year's Eve, that you have to be having a fantastically exciting time right now, with everyone else.
I know that I will get used to it. Ironically it reminds me of Cairo (the real Egyptian city) which I found really difficult at first but ended up loving. But this one is going to be tough.
I know Jan is missing me just as much as I miss him.
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Pumpkin Pecan Pancakes
Wednesday 23rd December 2009
A whole restaurant devoted to omlettes! In fact not an omlette restaurant but an omlette "parlour", which made me think there would be lace curtains and chintz, or at least tea served on best china.
In the end it was more barn than parlour, and I did not even have omlettes, going for pumpkin pecan pancakes instead. They sounded so American it would be impossible to eat them anywhere else. And I think I tipped the waiter more than I would have because his name was Jesse.
It has been one of those transition days, as I was waiting for the time to get the shuttle bus to airport to catch my flight to Las Vegas. So I spent the day walking around Santa Monica and Venice.
The Venice canals are impressively quiet. Even the 'For Sale" notices warn you to not disturb the occupants. They must be sleeping late. You can tell it is a good neighbourhood as they have notices urging you to protect the ducks from processed bread.
I did not try and get much done today - just walking along the beach and paddling in the ocean. Then I thought a picture of me sitting looking cool and pensive on the beach would be good.
But I forgot how much frantic dashing too and fro goes into pictures like this. First I had to try and work out again how the timer on the camera works. Then it took about 5 goes to get the camera pointing in the right direction.
You can see the footprints where I was sprinting back to be in position and try to listen carefully for the click of the shutter.
A whole restaurant devoted to omlettes! In fact not an omlette restaurant but an omlette "parlour", which made me think there would be lace curtains and chintz, or at least tea served on best china.
In the end it was more barn than parlour, and I did not even have omlettes, going for pumpkin pecan pancakes instead. They sounded so American it would be impossible to eat them anywhere else. And I think I tipped the waiter more than I would have because his name was Jesse.
It has been one of those transition days, as I was waiting for the time to get the shuttle bus to airport to catch my flight to Las Vegas. So I spent the day walking around Santa Monica and Venice.
The Venice canals are impressively quiet. Even the 'For Sale" notices warn you to not disturb the occupants. They must be sleeping late. You can tell it is a good neighbourhood as they have notices urging you to protect the ducks from processed bread.
I did not try and get much done today - just walking along the beach and paddling in the ocean. Then I thought a picture of me sitting looking cool and pensive on the beach would be good.
But I forgot how much frantic dashing too and fro goes into pictures like this. First I had to try and work out again how the timer on the camera works. Then it took about 5 goes to get the camera pointing in the right direction.
You can see the footprints where I was sprinting back to be in position and try to listen carefully for the click of the shutter.
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