Dan & I recently returned from a
quick visit to Las Vegas. For both of us, it was our first time
there.
I have long believed, and continue to
do so, that the key to success in any trip lies in adequate preparation. Planning ahead and researching the options of
any particular place allows the traveler the freedom to enjoy the unexpected
pleasantries and be prepared for the unexpected pitfalls. Once Dan & I had made the decision to
visit Las Vegas, I got to work researching hotels, airlines, restaurants, and
other things to do – of which there are a bewildering series of options.
I have a strong preference for
non-stop flying – even if it involves reasonably increased expense. Imagine my delight when I learned Frontier
Airlines offers modestly priced non-stop flights to Las Vegas. Initially, I had some trepidation about
trying, for me, an untested airline.
Well, I can report that Dan & I were delighted with every aspect of
our Frontier experience. Just be
prepared, as Frontier is a no-frills airline that gets you there, but perks are
extra. We minimized costs by packing the
necessities for our brief trip in one bag, which we checked. We also allowed ourselves one personal item –
a backpack that fit easily underneath a seat and did not incur extra cost. The day before our flight I checked in, found
that Frontier’s website is user
friendly and easy to navigate, selected our seats (at modest additional cost),
and even printed out boarding passes. Frontier’s
counter at Hopkins
Airport is next to Spirit’s, another budget carrier with a very different
track record. While our check in with
Frontier was stress free, there was a line of angry customers at the Spirit
counter, whose flight had been cancelled.
We also noted numerous Spirit cancellations in Vegas.
The contrast between Frontier and
United, which we flew for our return trip, was stark. Originally founded in 1994, Frontier has the
feel of a young, dynamic, growing company.
They understand where the travel market is going and have adjusted
accordingly. The aircraft we took, an
Airbus 321, was just delivered six months ago and although the seats did not
recline and Wi-Fi was not offered, we enjoyed the flight and I was able to
listen to pre-loaded music on my Kindle.
By contrast, United is an oversized dinosaur which can barely move under
its own weight, with planes that appear to have seen better days. And with United having withdrawn from
Cleveland, their lack of non-stop flights to the places I want to go is quickly
making them irrelevant. Our stop in
Chicago reminded me of why I loathe O’Hare airport.
Based on the location, amenities, and
the intersection of price and value, we chose to stay at the Aria hotel. Completed in 2009, the Aria is truly a 21st
Century hotel. Lights, television, air
conditioning, and even draperies are controlled by a dedicated, in-room
iPad. We chose a Strip View room, on
what is billed as the 53rd Floor (actually the 43rd, as
there are no 40-49th floors listed owing to Chinese superstition),
and enjoyed the night sights without being bothered by the night sounds.
The view from our room - day and night.
There were too many restaurants at
the Aria for more than a small sampling.
Naturally, we tried the buffet, which has quite a selection for
breakfast. We also breakfasted at the
Aria Café which was good, but not extraordinary and hardly worth the price. Julian Serrano’s Tapas
restaurant, on the other hand, took us into another world of bold, unusual and
unexpected flavors.
While out walking the Strip, we also
visited our first In-N-Out burger, and were
both left wondering what all the fuss is about.
Certainly In-N-Out is superior to McDonald’s, Five Guys, and Wendy’s but
it’s simply not All That. The fries were
mediocre and easily bested by Rally’s/Checker’s. The milkshakes, however, were quite good.
Las Vegas has experienced explosive
growth over the past few decades.
Comparing photos from then to now reminds of me of James Earl Jones’
line in Field of Dreams about America being “erased like a blackboard, rebuilt
and erased again.” What were once two
lane roads had to be expanded to the point that pedestrians were in danger. So the city built a series of elevated street
crossings. Further, the crossings
include 10 foot barriers with Plexiglas on top to prevent suicide jumps – a reasonable
precaution in a city where many lose their life’s savings at casinos. Neither
Dan nor I gamble. But we did walk
through several casinos and noted the blank, beaten look on the faces of many
there – some who appeared to arrive early in the morning and remain late at
night. Walking the Strip, we saw the quiet
desperation on the faces of many, while scantily clad foreign young women were
ready to literally handcuff male passersby and coerce them into getting their
photograph taken for a fee. What must it
be like for a young person to come to this country in search of freedom, only
to find herself locked into a life of virtual or actual prostitution and
exploitation?
Spending our entire trip within a few
blocks’ radius would have driven us bonkers.
So Dan & I took a day trip to Hoover Dam. Over 80 years old, it remains an engineering
marvel. The size and scale of the dam and support structures is
overwhelming. And despite recent
criticism about the environmental impact, Hoover Dam has literally made large
scale human occupation of the area possible – not just by water management but
by providing electric power to Nevada, Arizona, and parts of Southern
California. It’s no exaggeration to say
that without Hoover Dam, Las Vegas would still be a sleepy town with one gas
station and a few small casinos; a desert stop on the way elsewhere, not a
destination.
The catalyst for our trip was Ricky Martin’s concert at
the Park Theatre. But it turned out to
be the low point. We were expecting at
least a semblance of artistic performance.
Instead we were subjected to a display of self-glorification, narcissism,
and pure ego compounded by auditory assault.
The totally calculated, phony performance began, of course, with Livin’ la Vida Loca, preceded by an old
video clip of Martin lounging in his underwear in a sleazy hotel room, along
with a flash of bare buttocks which sent the audience, largely female and gay
male, into a frenzy. Epileptic inducing
lighting effects and overwhelming amplification – out of proportion to the venue’s
size – only served to beat the audience into submission as they experienced the
musical equivalent of rape. Appropriately,
one of the songs started with the sound of an air-raid siren. As a nod to Vegas, the audience was “treated”
to a terrible rendition of Luck Be a Lady Tonight – which would have had Frank
Sinatra (who was capable of being a perceptive, sensitive musician when he
chose) spinning in his grave. Many in
the audience, who appeared uninterested in the music, occupied themselves by
screaming, shrieking (including one insufferable tart behind me) or mentally
masturbating to Martin’s gyrations or those of his dancers. Equally amusing but also annoying was
Martin’s attempt to curry favor with the women in the audience by feigning
interest in female stage performers – along with the occasional bone thrown to
the many gay males there as when he felt the abs of a male dancer. All the above was a transparent attempt to
distract from the lack of new songs, musical substance, or actual vocal
technique. Martin’s voice, which was
never great but once acceptable, has coarsened to the extent that he would be
eliminated in the first round of The Voice or any equivalent talent show. The streak of dishonesty which ran through
the production was hardly surprising given how long it took Martin to come out
of the closet. Lest the reader believe
the above merely constitutes the ramblings of a disgruntled classical music
aficionado, there were numerous others who left before the concert was over –
including my Puerto Rican husband.
Dan & I had to recover from the
Ricky Martin fiasco. There are a number
of gay clubs in Las Vegas, from the sleazy to the snobby, but we chose to head
to the low-key, friendly Bastille – which has the look and vibe of Cheers. It was a quietly pleasant way to pass our
last night in Vegas.
Despite the brevity of our visit, we
were happy to return home. There truly
is no place like it.
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