Another early start for me, although not quite pre-dawn. As nice as the room is, the pillows are too pillowy for me. Little things, eh.
Oh. And the internet service is crap. The WiFi is great, the internet is great. The connection package is rubbish.
They need to amend the idle-timeout and max-session RADIUS attributes/VSAs. Having to reauthenticate every 60 minutes is a real pain in the arse. Bearing in mind it’s a Class B /29 subnet, the 8190 usable host addresses should be more than enough for DHCP not to be a concern kicking folk off. Sorry. Geek mode kicked in. Apologies!
On with the day…
Got up, downloaded the next 1000 or so photos from yesterday, finish writing & then post the blog.
Next on the agenda, having passed on the opportunity to phone room service for my box of La Colombo Pacific Blend, I wandered through and then out of the Hotel/Casino, crosses the road and bought a McDonalds coffee. Normally one of my “takeaway” favourites in the UK but this must be a different blend. Very bitter.
These two were still in bed when I got back, and Charlie was totally out for the count. Ended up shaking him awake at around 9:30.
Jane was insistent that breakfast today was at Denny’s, conveniently right opposite the hotel. After a 10 minute wait, we were in. Moons over Hammy for me, (egg, cheese & ham toasted sandwich with hash browns), and copious refills of coffee.
From there we sauntered next door to the Venetian. More mooching around this time by a faux canal and gondolas.
Boy there are some weird things for sale in there! “Colon Blow” Cereal, is just one example!
Forgot to mention, last night in Caesars Palace one of the shops was a gallery for a Russian Surrealist artist called Vladimir Kush. Look him up- his work is fantastic! I love the dragonfly riding a motorcycle.
After the Venetian, we wandered back to the hotel, donned our speedos (not really), and headed for the pool. Really nice pool, thankfully some of which was in shade of the 40+ Dev C heat. It as that hot, Almost tea-total Jane knocked back a (strong) 32oz (litre) frozen Margherita!
After a couple of hours, I overheated and we went to get ready to go to Freemont Street, the “bohemian” original casino area of Las Vegas, before the Flamingo area and the Strip were even conceived.
We needed to get there and have tea before 8:20pm so we decided to drive. Off to self park, managed to remember where our car was parked (6C) and went to load up.
And here’s where it goes “tits up”. The car won’t open. Either the remote battery or (more likely) the car battery are dead! Bugger!
I tried to use the emergency key but that won’t budge. Stuck, and under time pressure, we jumped an Uber whist I tried to work out a plan. (We don’t have breakdown cover).
Our driver was really nice, and very informative and helpful. He’s retired and just Uber’s when he wants to pull money to cover his fishing trips!
He told us where to stay around Freemont and where not to go. It’s a bit on the seedy side tbh.
We walked up the touristy “Freemont Street Experience” to be faced with all manner of sights! Charlie didn’t know which way to look!
Street performers, singers, a really fat bloke wearing a g-string, with pink bunny ears on expecting people to drop him cash just for sitting there like a right tool, Elvis and a topless Cherokee Indian squaw, more topless showgirls (with beer bellies, apparently – I didn’t look so wouldn’t know), topless girls, a sixty year old, 4ft10” Wonder Woman, an almost constant smell of weed, a stormtrooper that wanted you to duel him with swords, a man standing on another mans shoulders, homeless people, people pretending to be homeless people (probably), Eddie Murphy on a trolley with his legs strapped up pretending to have no legs. Ok, so not the last one, and maybe I’m too cynical and so not the one before. But you get the gist.
Having run the length of the street and back, we settled on tea at Mickie Finzz. Two for one Tacos for Charlie and I, Clam Chowder for Jane and two “Blue Moon” pints of Dutch courage for me!
Why the flip did we come here, you may ask! Because at 8:20pm, Charlie and I checked in at our designated flight boarding time, and headed up 11 storeys to be shot down a zip line that runs the full length of Freemont Street.
We checked in early to get our white wrist bands, to be told that I wouldn’t be allowed on with my GoPro, which was on a “wristie” (elastic Velcro Strap and plate that you can use when skydiving to film from your wrist).
Bugger that, I thought! Off we went and $9.99 later, I was the proud owner of one of the worst looking, tasteless, tacky, souvenir, fleecy LONG SLEEVED sweatshirts, which I duly donned despite the still 40deg C heat.
Sweating like a glass-blowers arse, we checked in, and I did all manner of distracting things when being suited up for my “flight”. Charlie was ashamed. Just ashamed.
“Sir, lie on the bed, face down and spread your legs”. Not again! We were harnessed up, the “beds” dropped away from us leaving us in a Superman pose (except for my bulbous left wrist that was tucked under my chest, out of sight).
As the doors in front of us fell away to reveal the 11-storey drop below and Freemont Street room stretching into the distance, I pressed the on switch, then the record button, saw the confirmatory flashing rouge light, and whipped my sleeve back just as he pressed the release button. Beat you, you miserable buggers!
I have film of Charlie and I flying down Freemont Street just below the roof line being waved at by the drunks, homeless, strippers, and Eddie Murphy, as we shot by!
I’d got one over on the system! This made for a minor consolation prize, prior to probably having to pay some hideous extortionist to get the Car back up and running, before we leave the day after!
A quick change out of my now sweaty sweatshirt, and another Uber.
Our driver, William is from Kenya. He’s been here for 5 years, likes America, but prefers the UK, although doesn’t fancy snow, and gets confused as to which side of the road to drive when he goes home.
He’s a Chelsea fan and would really rather be taxiing around Stamford Bridge, and have a season ticket, although he was shocked that a Man City season ticket may set someone back $1000 a season. Imagine his surprise when I explained Chelsea tickets were even more!
He was also really nice and we had a laugh. Dropped of at our hotel, I bid him farewell and said I hoped they lost their next competitive match (Charity Shield, against Man City next Sunday).
Back to our hotel having still not seen any of the Strip shows (e.g Bellagio Fountains etc, not that kind of strip show).
Maybe one for tomorrow evening, but only once we have a working vehicle!
Night all!