36 hours in Las Vegas

February 12th, 2007 · No Comments

After a brief flight – I think it took longer to get from our parking garage, from one terminal to another, through security, and through the shuttle ride across the tarmac to our plane than it did to actually fly to Las Vegas – we arrived in time for dinner and checked in to our sleek room in the West Wing of the MGM Grand. We decided on the Grand Wok after scoping out a number of dining choices, some of which weren’t really choices (“Wait, are those numbers the prices or some sort of three-digit code number?”). I seem to remember a whole lot more buffet and a whole lot less Wolfgang Puck when I was here in ’97, but maybe that was just the circle we were traveling in.

After dinner, we tried out a few of the casino’s bars, walked over to New York New York, and called it a night. We spent the bulk of Saturday exploring the Strip, subjecting ourselves to the sensory overload of the series of surprisingly detailed theme park approximations of half a dozen cultures of the world, plus a few decoration schemes we really couldn’t place. A lot of things had changed since I’d last been there ten years before: some familiar places gone, more new casinos, and a different atmosphere altogether, with more families and just more people, if that’s possible. Another sad change: no more actual jackpots coming out of the machines, no more need for those plastic cups we collected from every casino we visited last time. Just the recorded sound of cascading change, and a barcoded ticket showing how much you’ve won when you decide to cash out. And cash out we did, twice with a profit: I won $50 on a 25ยข slot, and Aimee won $13 on a video poker machine. We didn’t gamble much, and never hit the tables, which was probably wise.

The Venetian

As we visited each casino, we tried to take a picture in front of the most garish, wacky thing we could find; halfway through, though, we started having a hard time finding something that qualified at each new place, maybe because some places were a little classier…or more likely because our standards had been so blown by the giant golden horses, towering “Greek sculptures,” and animatronic pigs we’d already seen.

Animatronic pig

At the Bellagio

Caesars Palace

Courtesy of Mark and Katie, we enjoyed a really, really nice dinner at Aureole, though the wine list, which came to us on a handheld HP tablet computer with stylus, was fully searchable and sortable but still totally impenetrable. We ordered by the glass and received no more visits from the sommelier. After dinner, we headed from Mandalay Bay up the Strip to the Mirage on the monorail, another new and welcome addition since my last visit. We arrived in time to take our (great) seats for “Love,” the Cirque du Soleil show that Aimee’s parents gave us for my birthday, and watched as the theater filled up by showtime. Ushers in Union Jack suits sported accents that didn’t match the home cities listed on their name tags, but no matter. The show started, and I was enthralled – I’d never been to a Cirque show before, and I guess I still haven’t, technically. About 35 minutes in, just as the four mop-topped skaters were doing their half-pipe stunts to the tune of “Help” while another acrobat flew around on a platform high above the stage, the music stopped, and a voice came on over the loudspeakers, talking about a fire alarm. I couldn’t hear it it first, as it wasn’t utilizing the killer Cirque du Soleil sound system, and the flashing lights, well, that could have been part of the show, as well. The skaters did a few more runs, the sound of their inline wheels on the halfpipe oddly audible now that the music was gone, and then skated off. Eventually, we heard a few staff in the rafters talk to the acrobat near the ceiling, and they slowly lowered a ladder to him. We sat around for a few minutes, were told the show would be starting up any minute by one of the cast, and waited. That’s when the sprinklers started going off, on the other side of the theater, soaking everybody in a couple of sections, and the stage as well. Our “English” usher said “Oh hell no” and ran up the stairs. It was pretty clear the show wasn’t going to start again, and we headed out for the lobby, where we were told the show was cancelled and that our tickets would be refunded.

Looking at the track list of the CD, we saw the show through track 11 of 26, so somewhere just under half, I guess. It was disappointing, missing what was to be more enjoyable and amazing stuff, with the sonically amazing music pumped in through the sound system and speakers in our headrests and all of that, but what was more unsettling was the unfinished nature of it, the fact that it had no closure. We didn’t see it through to the end, and we didn’t get to show our appreciation; we were watching, watching, watching, and then all of the sudden, it was over, no applause, no conclusion, just a guy climbing slowly down from the ceiling on a flimsy ladder. Maybe we’ll be back in Vegas in another ten years and we’ll catch the rest of the show.

We spent the rest of the evening wandering down the Strip, checking out a few bars and doing a little gambling (and spotting Dr. J. at Caesars). We were a little too late for the Bellagio fountain show, but we’d caught it that afternoon, so all we missed were the lights. Another monorail ride back, and we were ready to hit the hay. The trip home in the morning was uneventful, and we were back in time for the normal Sunday activities: a long run, grocery shopping, catching up on stuff. It doesn’t seem like a lot of time to be somewhere, but I think it was the perfect amount.

Harrahs

More photos here.

Tags: Travel