Posted: November 6th, 2005 | Author: David | Filed under: Travel | Tags: conference, las vegas, vegas | No Comments »
It’s been a week back from the trip to Las Vegas, so having shaken off the jet lag, I thought I’d commit a few words about it for posterity.
So it’s Friday a couple of weeks ago, and Ulyssa asks me if I’d like to accompany her to Las Vegas for the annual Documentum conference that she’d be attending the following week. Naturally, I didn’t take long to make up my mind that it was a good thing to do. And it was the right thing to do, even if it did mean sacrificing a Bloc Party gig I was due to go to at Brixton Academy.
A week later on the Saturday, I’m up at 5:45am to leave for the trek to Victoria station to meet Ulyssa. Our Virgin Atlantic flight is at 10:45am, and we arrive at Gatwick with a couple hours to kill – time enough to pick up a power charger for my nano. And some baby wipes. Almost missed the flight due to an incorrect gate number (in hindsight, it’s possible we misread it) so running to the correct gate induces a sweaty start to the flight. I’ve not flown this far before. In fact, it’s only the fourth time I’ve ever been in a plane (previous excursions were to Cyprus, Dublin and Bratislava) so I’m a little nervous. And it’s to be a full ten hours and 5,000 miles before we land. I come fully prepared with some new books – Lonely Planet Guide to Las Vegas, Bill Bryson’s Short History of Nearly Everything, Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and a book of Sudoku. We take our seats and prepare for take off.
Soon after, we’re airborne and it’s time for the onboard entertainment to kick in. ‘Land of the Dead‘ and ‘Batman Begins‘ fill the first few hours well – with Ulyssa’s reactions to the first actually being more entertaining than the film itself. Some Sudoku, a cover-to-cover digest of the Lonely Planet Guide, and many hours later we’re flying over Nevada, with Vegas in sight. Our path had been a bit unexpected – flying through UK, out the west coast of Scotland, under Iceland, under Greenland, into Canada through the Hudson Bay, and down into the states through North Dakota. I guess the pilot knew best, but it seemed to me to be a bit of a scenic route.
As we land, the paradox of the landscape is immediate. We’re stuck in the middle of the Nevada desert – with mountains on every stretch of the horizon. We were in what’s known locally as ‘the valley’ – it’s a valley – and the giant hotels of the Strip are instantly recognisable. A cab ride away is our hotel – the Luxor – a giant black pyramid, protected by a replica sphinx out front. Entering the hotel it instantly hits you – a somewhat oppressive cinnamon scent – fake Egyptian artifacts – a hollowed out pyramid harbouring rooms on every wall – sideways moving lifts (‘inclinators’) – wall to wall gambling outlets. We’re here! We’re in Vegas, and the craziness has only just started.
Having showered off the cabin dank and dumped our luggage in our neighbouring rooms, we decide that the best way to combat the imminent jet lag, is to stay up as late as we possibly can, with a view to hitting downtown Fremont Street. Bearing in mind that it’s only 4pm local time – it would already be midnight in London.
Leaving the Luxor, and heading north up the Strip, we wander past the Excalibur – a medieval themed nightmare of a hotel – to New York, New York to grab a bite to eat and to try to take everything in. A wonder over the road takes us to the MGM Grand, and the lion habitat. And it’s time to sit down and reaquaint myself with the rules of Black Jack over a bottle of Amstel light. After losing a measly 5 bucks, we decide that if we’re to make it to Fremont Street, we’d better make a move and catch the monorail up to the Sahara to change for a bus. It’s a long journey that takes us around the back of the strip, and for the first time, the enormity of the place kicks in.
I’m after a shot of the cowboy guy – the one in neon with the waving hand. It’s not long before we find him, except tonight he’s not waving for some reason. Fremont Street wasn’t always covered over. Back in the old days, this area was the heart of downtown Vegas. This was Rat Pack territory, and the casinos were every bit as glamorous as the newly evolving Strip. But not today. The ‘Fremont Street Experience‘ is a neon show on the roof, sponsored by LG, it would seem. We leave downtown having visited an old school casino and been tack hunting at a couple of the many souvineer outlets. I pick up a mug, a pack of used cards from the Flamingo and a casino chip. I’m a happy man. We return to the hotel for about 10pm. We’ve been up about 24 hours solid, and we’re due to register for the conference at 8am.
Monday morning I awake about half an hour before the alarm goes off, after having a surprisingly unbroken sleep. It’s then across to the neighbouring Mandalay Bay to register, and attend the first session of the conference. This would turn out to be the only session we’d attend for that day, having been told that the rest of the sessions that day were invite only. So we were able to go off to a Premium Outlet mall between the Strip and downtown that we’d been tipped off about, with a view to getting back for the Grand Opening in the Expo Hall at 6. This we did, laden with discounted goods including some lovely new shoes.
I’d never been to a conference before, so I’d not really had any frame of reference. But I’ve been to a party before, and I’ve been to an exhibition, so to me the Grand Opening in the Expo Hall was like a combination of the two. Elvis was there. As were three showgirls. And lots of freely running alcohol. As it wound down at 9pm, a friendly barman wanting to finish his supplies landed us with half a pint of wine each, which set us up for heading to the MIXlounge at the top of THEhotel – Mandalay Bay’s newest addition – offering the most amazing view over the strip. We stayed for a couple of drinks before heading back.
Tuesday was pretty hard core. As far as conferences go, I think we were fully conferenced up, and more than ready for the evening entertainment – Documentum-partner-sponsored-events around the immediate vicinity. After realising that one of the business cards we’d picked up at the Grand Opening was in fact a much sought after golden ticket to the partner event at the MIXlounge, we proceeded to the top of THEhotel yet again for more drinks, this time courtesy of Fast, before heading down to the Fujitsu party in a bar at the casino level many floors below, and just enough times for a couple of computerised games of Black Jack before heading back to the hotel room.
Wednesday was again, another day of conference sessions which rounded up earlier due to the main social event of the week taking place that evening – just enough time though for us to squeeze in a trip around the much-overpriced Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay. It’s not a patch on London Aquarium, and at over $15 really wasn’t worth it. But it still killed some time before the buses arrived to take us out to the main event. Documentum had hired out Las Vegas Motor Speedway for the occasion, and it was a few miles out of town. To the onboard soundtrack of “Viva Las Vegas”, we sign our waivers absolving all responsibility of imminent death, and stepped off into what seems to be a small village of marquees, replica motels, bmx shows, life-threatening stunts, fun fair rides and food stalls in the middle of the speedway. Having lost a game of pool to a couple of natives, we’re told that the flying Elvi would be arriving imminently. So outside we go to see around eight Elvises parachuting from the night sky. As the last Elvis glided to earth, fireworks lit up the sky. And as the nacho tent closed, buses pulled up to take us home.
Thursday was the last day of the conference. Coporate hospitality booked hyponist Anthony Cools as the entertainment for the farewell luncheon. Having never seen a live hypnotist before, I was a little intrigued as to how it was all going to work. But work it did, and after five minutes of induction, the self selecting contestants were under his control – and those that weren’t were shown the stage exit. What followed was 45 minutes of possibly the most nervous fun I’ve had in a very long time. The afternoon sessions wound down, and with it emerged the realisation that we only had 24 hours left in Vegas.
We head up to the Stratosphere, and with a bit of encouragement get onto the highest roller coaster in the world at it’s summit. It may be the highest rollercoaster, but at 30mph, it’s not gonna break any speed records. But still – it’s bloody high up there, and a roller coaster is never the most emotionally settling of environments to be in. We left the Stratosphere, and headed to the Riviera for a fine Italian meal.
We’d wanted to see Barry. But Barry was fulled booked, in the cheap seats at least. And we weren’t prepared to pay effectively £90 for a ticket to ironic fun. Instead, Ulyssa got us tickets for Splash – a topless revue at the Riviera. It wasn’t topless in the sleazy lapdancer sense – but topless in the sense that occasionally there’d be a lot of girls on stage naked from the waist upwards, with no huge relevance other than it being where we were. This would be sprinkled with bizarre cuts from the Phantom of the Opera, and a heavily built man who literally flew with the aid of two red satin drapes. We left the Riviera and headed over the road to Circus-Circus before catching a new-to-Vegas double-decker bus to the Bellagio where we hung around for the magical fountain display. The musical selection for the display – Lloyd Webber’s ‘Time To Say Goodbye’ sung by Sarah Brightman – seemed an aptfully cheesy end to the evening. And really, the week. Despite having not to get up for a conference in the morning, we instead had other plans. We were booked on a helicopter for the Grand Canyon, and the taxi was to pick us up from the Luxor at 7.15am.
Having left the room at 6.45, we made it to MacDonalds for a very fast breakfast before getting into the people carrier laid on by Papillon, the helicopter tour company. We were in the air for 8am and at the Canyon by 9am. I’m not going to bother trying to descibe the Grand Canyon here. Here are the photos. It was, as expected, amazing. There was a strange otherworldly feeling of not actually being there. But we were. The 30 minute landing seemed to fly by, and soon enough we were in the air again, headed back to the airport, the hotel, and the end of our Vegas journey.
Our final two hours were killed off in the lounge bar at in the Luxor. We’d wanted to leave our bags with the bellboy and head up to have a look at the Venitian, but the queue for the bellboy was too long. And in any case, we realistically didn’t have the time. Ulyssa went to see King Tutankamun exhibition, while I looked after our luggage. She emerged 15 minutes later, $10 poorer, and with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.
It was, soon enough, time to get the taxi to the airport for the journey home. ‘War Of The Worlds‘ was the in-flight entertainment, after which sleep quickly set in. I awoke with about an hour and a half of the journey to go. It was drizzling in London when we landed. And despite the fun, I was glad to be home.