Not so Sin City

After the slight detour to the Hoover Dam, which delayed us through the twilight hours, we continued on into the dark to the bright lights of Las Vegas. 

Ah Vegas. Sin City. The destination of many a wild dream and even wilder realities. What is there possibly left to say about this crazy city that hasn't already been said? And it might seem to some of you who know me, that maybe I'm not the best suited tourist to experience the thrills and spills of Las Vegas. 

For the uninitiated amongst you readers, I am a person who enjoys somewhat smaller-scale thrills. I'm not the all-night party princess, lining up shots with wild women, buying mind-altering substances from a penguin in a tuxedo, picking up dudes and whiskey at the bar or smoking cigars with the high-rollers at the tables. If those are the stories you're after, I suggest renting 'The Hangover' because my Vegas had none of that.

It was however, no less exciting in my eyes. 

Vegas for me was about variety. Variety in every sense of the word. These are my veritable highlights of Vegas... 

1) Food

Possibly first on many of my lists. You can find anything your taste buds desire in this town. (Except, I discovered in m&m's World, the superior crispy m&m. Apparently the USA is not ready for this taste sensation. My heart goes out to them in these hard times.) My personal favourite was the mighty buffet. Not the highest end of the dining scale, but I'm not a girl of expensive tastes. I just loved having such a spread. Nothing is as classy as a plate adorned with a spoonful each of mac 'n' cheese, oriental noodles, pizza, spicy veg and salad (my nod to healthy eating at the all-you-can-eat buffet). But the cherry on top was the dessert display. Such a selection, and all in miniature form. I was in heaven. A merging of two favourites. Everything looks more delicious if it's a quarter its normal size. You have not lived until you have attempted to shove a entire mini tiramisu into your mouth. (For the record, my attempt was successful. This isn't amateur hour.) 

2) The Bellagio fountains 

They are famous the world over. You've probably seen them in films or television shows. But nothing quite prepares you for the live experience. You stand there, jostling for your spot on the wall for the show, wondering what the big deal is with some water. You start to think that you're a tad old to be watching dancing fountains. And then every thought in your mind is drowned by the voracious jets of water shooting skywards before you. Even the smell of the water and the cool mist creeping towards you adds to the atmosphere. The movement of the water is so perfectly timed with the music that it is nothing short of magical. We were treated to 'Time to Say Goodbye' by Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli. The sentiments of the song were magnified by the thundering water. Every beat is choreographed to tweak your emotions and by the time the final crescendo came, my heart was ready to burst out of my chest. I felt as though I'd been emotionally exhausted and uplifted simultaneously. That is the powerful beauty of simply water and music. 

3) V - The Ultimate Variety Show

After much debate, stemming from too much entertainment choice, we settled on getting tickets for the V show. This town was once built on the staple of the Variety show and so I felt I owed it to the ghosts of entertainers past to adhere to that tradition. What a show and what a spectacle. Within five minutes of taking my seat I was audibly gasping, and if I was a cartoon character my eyes would have been popping out on stalks. The first act of two men balancing on each other was astonishing. How one grown man can hold himself vertically, upside down, with his hand on another man's head, I'll never know! From then on the acts never let up on the action. Magicians, a contortionist making me peek out through the gaps in my fingers, high-speed drumming, an impressionist and two beautiful skaters swirling each other about on a platform the size of a trampette. I left the auditorium in exhilarated shock, and with a new dream to join the circus. 

4) Gambling 

Ok, so I indulged in one vice during my time in Sin City. But I still held on to my naturally prudent and mindful ethos. Dad went to roll with the big boys whilst my brother and I searched for a suitable place to lose our dollars. We bypassed the lure of 'The Sound of Music' slot machines (how do you solve a problem like gambling?) and found our holy grail of the 25c stake video roulette. Settling down to serious business, we carefully placed our chips. My investment of a whole $5 bill meant I was playing to win. Every time we reaped a profit on a spin, I would panic and shout "Collect! Collect!". Fortunately my brother is made of tougher stuff. He wasn't settling for that. We were to play on for greater gains. Unfortunately, we didn't play on for long. As soon as the single complimentary Bud arrived, (I didn't take up the free drink offer; I didn't want to be in the debt of the casino already) we had lost our initial stake. But we reinvested. After a long fought battle I walked away from the table (computer) with $1 more than I started with. Take that Las Vegas! 

Las Vegas is as crazy and colourful as all the stories paint it as. My experience there may not have been a neon-spattered abstract, but I like to think of it as the sky-high, vividly imaginative but fragile Chihuly piece that we admired at the Bellagio, and I enjoyed every colourful minute. Surely that's what matters. 

Now, what to blow that $1 on...

Dam! It's just a load of concrete right?

Back on the road, the end of the Wild West was in sight. There was just one shining beacon of a city to visit in the middle of the desert first.

But before that we would have to pass across our last time zone boundary. And that line between Arizona and Nevada runs through one of the largest engineering feats in the land. As the sun was sinking lower on the horizon, we arrived at the Hoover Dam. We had seen the signposts for it and decided it would be worth a quick stop. And, on yet another occasion on this journey, I'm thankful we made that last minute call.

I must admit the Hoover Dam was never high on my list of must-see sights on this trip. It wasn't that I had an aversion to the idea of visiting it; it was just that it had only been in my peripheral thoughts as it existing. Not that I want to offend the structure, but in my mind I had an image of concrete. Of a man-made, functional mass of industrial achievement.

And boy, I wasn't wrong. But much to my surprise, I felt that it had a quietly calming beauty radiating from its physical strength and presence. The fading light cast a warm glow over the surrounding canyon sides overlooking us from all angles. Even the miles of electricity cables creeping across the countryside like cobwebs attached to towering steel pylon giants protruding diagonally from the hills looked like a work of art. I simply couldn't get my head around how the engineers and brave workers of the 1930s constructed such a marvel.

The industrial intricacies sit in a certain harmony with the natural wonder of the Colorado River. The river feeding down from the created Lake Mead sat in absolute stillness. The surface reflected the surrounding colours of the canyon just as any mirror would; the colours as deep in reflection as they were many feet above, bathed in sunlight.

Even with the few other tourists left at the late hour, there was a feeling of awe in the air as we gazed upon the ethereal sight of the view of the water intake towers standing proud just before the Colorado meets the Dam. Like a scientific diagram, their cylindrical shapes are attached by rigid barriers to the curvature of the Dam itself. But yet they have a real beauty in their monochrome design, especially as the pattern is doubled in the crystal clear reflection in the waters they appear to wade through.

The word incredible is used so flippantly these days, I feel that I should find another word, but I can't as it fits so perfectly.

Standing on top of the Hoover Dam is truly an incredible sight.

The pie and drive of a lifetime!

We were really on it now. Route 66 had us hanging on its every curve. We'd fallen hook, line and sinker for the romance of the historic mother road.

Every road sign called out as a photo opportunity.
Every passing mile offered an achingly beautiful view of the Arizona landscape.
Every stop we made caused a well-fought argument over who took the wheel next.

One stop we made was in Williams, Arizona. A small town most famous for claiming to be the Southern gateway to the Grand Canyon. In my opinion its greatest fame should come from the old-home styled diner on the corner. The twee lace curtains and pie sign in the window was magnetic enough to pull us in. The splendid array of mouth-wateringly decadent pies staring at me from the glass case was a truly beautiful sight. I was in love. Pies of every type and every flavour. I still feel lucky to have made it out of there alive. Each slice of pie was as big as my face, so with our age of austerity in mind, we settled on a lemon meringue slice and a traditional apple pie to share between the three of us. And my oh my, what delicious pies!

Later that day, en route to Las Vegas, we decided to make a detour to the town of Oatman, Arizona. It was said to be a one-horse, gold-rush town. Or rather, a one-burro town. Several of these donkey like creatures roamed the dusty Main Street, dodging the bullets from the Western shoot-outs held at high noon (and, as it turns out, 2pm and 3.30pm; tourists are pretty demanding!). The sat-nav said it was only 22 miles away, but a reired couple from Nevada we spoke to over our motel buffet breakfast had warned us that it would be about an hour's drive.

Pah! I scoffed at the idea. What route were they taking? These long straight roads were a breeze.  I let Dad take the wheel as I imagined rolling into Oatman in less than half an hour. Yet we had only travelled a few miles when the route took on an altogether more English trait, and the reason for our breakfast buddies' extended journey time became apparent.

The road turned into a mountain racetrack. There were more twists and turns than a murder mystery and every other turn was sandwiched between a giant face of orange rock on one side and a 50 foot drop to sparse, desert scrubland the other. And it was genuinely breathtaking. The views all around us were vintage cowboy country. To be honest we'd been driving through similar landscape, yet we still weren't tired of it. The road was another beast altogether. I insisted Dad had a rest from driving on the return leg, and I can truly say that it was the best drive of my life. I may only have been driving a Kia, but easing it around the corners and revving up the winding hills was a real thrill.

Manoeuvering hairpin bends bordering steep ravine drops added time on to the journey, but the bulk of the time was spent stopping every few miles to take pictures. With such incredible scenery and a ridiculously exciting road like that to drive through it, we were like kids in a candy shop. Or should that be, for the second time that day, kids in a pie shop?

Talk about a work of art...

Somewhere in the Arizona desert, on the way to Flagstaff, we made a detour into the Petrified Forest. The lure of tales and photos of the neighbouring Painted Desert was too much to pass up. And seriously, I'm not sure anyone should pass this place up if they are in the vicinity.

We entered at the northern entrance, consulted the helpful assistant in the otherwise deserted tourist information centre, and then headed off on the first hairpin bend of the road through the desert. And it's no exaggeration to say that it took over an hour to navigate the first few miles.

The reason for this slow pace was the numerous vantage points pulling us over at the side of the road. Every single signposted vista offered an amazing and unique view of the incredible Painted Desert. The hills, plains and other-worldly shapes of rock shaping the landscape are simply mesmerising. The northern area of the desert glows with a varying scale of red hues. The undulating pock marks on a otherwise flat terrain, stretch for miles to the horizon. As you watch the red dust touching the electric blue sky, it's easy to feel this land must've been designed.

Continuing on the winding road, we visited the Painted Desert Inn to learn the history of the area. Then, as we headed towards the southern part of the desert, we crossed the old Route 66; a road that has been left for nature to reclaim.

The features of the landscape drastically changed in the southern desert. The so-called teepee structures loomed above us in spectacular fashion. Rings of different colour sediment showcase the layers involved in this land.  They reach up to the endless blue sky like an offering to the universe. This stunning sight could be mistaken for the set of an alien habitat.

Rounding the next corner we came across the Blue Mesa. This unbelievably structured area offers the most exciting walk through these rock monsters. Again, I felt as though I could be walking amongst the terrain more akin to a lunar landscape. Completely alone, we wandered, surrounded by hundreds of shades of blue and grey, seemingly closing in on us from all sides. All sides except the great expanse of breathtaking blue sky above us that is.

I feel this was one of the most humblingly beautiful places I've been fortunate enough to visit. I never realised such an array of colours and shapes could work together so boldly, but at the same time in such detail. Keep all your galleries and art shows. This is the best, most strikingly emotive painting I could ever imagine. And it's all there for us to live through.