West Coast USA – Day 12 (sob, over half way)

Phew! What a relief!

Having only gone to bed at midnight, I was up for 3am. Can’t sleep for three reasons:

I don’t sleep, generally
I’m itchy as feck. Think they use bio washing powder here, which doesn’t agree with my delicate, fair skin!
I’m mithered about the car & battery situation (lack of!)

So I spend an hour reading the manual for our car, and how to unlock it manually. Then I read the small print on the hire agreement. We definitely have “24h mechanical breakdown” cover.

Googling their website, although I can’t find a definition of said cover, I do find their description of “Roadside Assistance Protection” which specifically covers key failures, lockouts and jump starts.

Cool. I decide to get up, get dressed and sort this before anyone else is even up. Wandering through the casino however, I’m reminded that this is a 24×7 environment,and some folk sleep less than me!

I get to Aisle 6A on Floor 6 of Self Park, at the Mirage Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada and double check that the emergency key really didn’t work. It didn’t.

I call Alamo Roadside assistance and the lady I spoke to confirmed that it was likely just a battery drop out and she could get someone there within 20 minutes to jump start the car. Fabulous!

“That’ll be a minimum charge of $75 dollars sir. Ok to proceed?”. No, not without a fight, on principle if nothing else. Explaining the 24h breakdown, she rebuffed this. “Yes yo do, sir, but that’s for major stuff. It’s extra to cover the little bits like this”.

Ok. Let’s get on with this and I’ll have to argue the point later. We’ve done nothing wrong. The car battery has probably wilted in this heat, and I wouldn’t blame it. It’s just before 5am and it’s 36deg C!

So, we agreed to disagree and that she would send someone to sort it, and I would argue when I drop off the car.

Less than 25 minutes later a short Hispanic lad turns up in his orange “Pop-A-Lock” van, and he also confirms I’m not being daft, and the emergency key is in a state of emergency, having catastrophically failed to carry out its one job.

He got a small wedge, and slid that into the passenger window rubber. He then got a bigger wedge which created a gap, down which he put a glorified coat hook. In less than a minute, the car was unlocked. Quite scary really!

Now the car was open, up with the bonnet and the portable power pack was connected and another 30 seconds later and I’m in a fully functioning car! Woohoo!

The guy said he felt it was likely that it was a heat-induced drop-out and to run the car for a half hour to get some charge back. His reaction to our next stop being Death Valley didn’t fill me with confidence though.

After he left, I spend the next 45 minutes driving up and down the Strip as the sun rose, charging the battery.

Having parked up again in Aisle 6A on Floor 6 of Self Park, at the Mirage Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada (the lady from Alamo required my location to this exacting standard, so who am I to let those slip), I returned to our room, and eventually nodded back off for an hour.

We finally got out of the room at around 10:45 (Charlie being fast asleep again ‘til around 10am), and headed back to Denny’s for breakfast. Why not, we’re on us hols!

A walk up the North Strip up to the relatively new and stylish Wynn Encore, and the across to what turned out to be another Trafford Centre. (*Shoulders slump*).

Charlie decided to spend his holiday money on another pair of black Nike trainers to go with his other three pairs. Meanwhile I began falling asleep stood up. Absolutely knackered.

We made it back to the room just in time for me to lie down and fall asleep properly. Jane and Charlie ducked out from my snoring and went to the pool for an hour or so.

After the obligatory second shower of the day, we walked down to South Strip, where we had tea at the Planet Hollywood Cafe.

Ribs for Charlie, served on a miniature ‘pub beer garden bench’ (no idea why), two staters for Jane, and a Kobe beef Burger for me. All very nice, and washed down with a pint of “Bad Beat – Bluffing isn’t Weisse”.

Jane, who is “Queen of the Full Fat” insisted we called in and had a look around the Coca Cola store, where a souvenir tee-shirt was purchased. Very fitting.