using my inside voice |
Central American Travel | August 21, 2009
Two weeks in Antigua = ...
It's been an interesting two weeks.
Our homestay for the two weeks was at a lovely house, Casa de Lorena, with Lorena cooking our meals and taking care of us like all good Mums do. Lorena is actually from Mexico, and during our stay we had the opportunity to taste a variety of Mexican dishes, such as home-made mole enchiladas, unbelievable tomales, cream of tortilla soup (Lorena's own creation), a variety of different salsas and much more. It was all pretty delicious, but of course there were a few dishes that weren't completely to our taste...
On those days it reminded me being 12 years old again, sitting at Mum and Dad's dining room table and choking down chunks of zucchini, trying not to barf, then asking to go to the bathroom so I could spit it in the bin. Okay, maybe in this case that is a slight exaggeration, but there was one particular morning where Luke couldn't muster up the strength to make his way through an entire bowl of porridge, according to Luke it's like eating glue, and Lorena took it incredibly well, insisting that he not force it down.
Learning Spanish was incredibly hard. Spanish is worlds apart from English, with masculino and feminino for everything, and so many versions of the same verb it makes my head spin. For those who don't speak, I will provide an example. The verb,"to have" - Tener - has five versions in Latin American Spanish, in simple present tense alone (it has six versions in Spain...)
There are five more for past tense simple. It is so damn confusing and requires a lot of concentration. I find myself saying about one word every two seconds when speaking to people, and having to ask everyone to repeat what they said at least once. It's challenging, but also really interesting and actually a little bit fun.
I am finally, well and truly, coming to terms with the culture, and have gotten to be quite good at the old market haggle. I asked my Spanish teacher and got some good advice - start at 50% of the initial price, and never pay more than 75%. Though, when I went to an artisan's market the other day, that had fair fixed prices, it was a bit of a relief not to have to go through the process!
On Sunday Luke and I leave Antigua for Xela. It is with mixed feelings that we depart. I'm buzzing about being on the road again, but also a little sad to leave Antigua. What I first thought was a dingy, run-down, chaotic town, I now realise is a funky, cosmopolitan (by Guatemalan standards) and friendly oasis. It was a shock to the senses coming to Guatemala for the first time after shiny, sparkling, organised and English-speaking North America, but I can already see that Central America will hold a special place in my heart.
More soon...
Central American Travel | August 10, 2009
We stepped out of the airport into chaos. It was 8pm, there were crowds of family members, taxi drivers, shuttle drivers, and general peddlers of transport hustling the travelers as they exited. A meagre looking temporary fence was holding them at bay, at least for the moment. I took a deep breath, and a good look around for a sign with my name on it, hoping to see "Bay Oliver" in big, bold, safe letters. Letters that would declared in no uncertain terms that we would be safe, that our shuttle would enfold us in its modest interior, and take us to Antigua post haste.
Alas, there was no sign of the sign. No sign letting me know that without hassle or incident I would be ushered to my pre-arranged, pre-booked accommodations in Antigua for a good, safe, sound night's sleep. Did I mention safe?
As you can see, there is a theme appearing here. That being, fear for my own safety. As a novice Central American traveler, I had spent the past two days silently fretting that upon arrival in Guatemala I would be kidnapped, have all my possessions stolen, be held at knife-point, or some combination of the above. I had been assured there would be someone at the airport holding a sign with my name on it, ready to take Luke and I directly to Anitgua. Alas, there was no such person is sight.
I wandered aimlessly through the throngs of taxi and shuttle drivers hoping one of them was my man, and finally, I saw a short fellow with an A4 piece of paper. Written on it in red biro was "Oliver Bay"... close enough. "That's me!" I practically screamed in his ear (or over his head if truth be told, Guatemalans are certainly not a race known for their height).
This wonderfully sweet guy grabbed our trolley of bags, and with a few phrases of Spanish that were a complete indecipherable to me, took us straight to our shuttle.
The first few days in Antigua were a complete culture shock. Peddlers in the square, tuc tucs everywhere, chicken buses blowing pollution from their exhaust pipes, and cobbled streets that are a menace to anyone without sensible shoes (and even to an uncoordinated few WITH sensible shoes - no names mentioned)... it really was intense, like nothing I'd ever experienced. And, Antigua (according to the lonely planet) would be what Guatemala was like in fantasy-land. Great! If I can't handle the most westernised, English-speaking, safe city in Guatemala, how was I going to cope with the rest???
But, after wandering the streets to find a Spanish school, a few dinners out, and our first trip away (to Lago de Atitlan & the Chichicastenango markets) I think I've finally come to understand and be comfortable with a country that up until a week ago was a complete unknown to me.
The people are tiny, wonderful, generous, persistent and amazing hagglers. Porches and BMW's pass poor women selling their handicrafts, a mojito and a meal will set you back a mere $7 or so, and the countryside is both breathtakingly beautiful in the country, and littered with rubbish on the street-sides. Power lines crowd the streets and the view one moment, and the next you're in the middle of nowhere watching a waterfall, that probably doesn't have a name, and that no-one really cares about, cascade down a mountainside.
I think we're finally settling in, and with three days Spanish School under my belt, I'm feeling more and more confident getting around town and getting what I need done.
We moved in with our host family last night. Lorena is wonderful, with her 1.5-year-old grandson around to keep us entertained. We're the only people staying with her at the moment, and we are literally staying in palatial quarters. Our room has a king-sized bed, a couch, dining table, kitchenette, beautiful bathroom, and really everything you could want. Lorena is soon opening a restaurant, so needles to say, her food is delicious. Plus, our house is inside a compound, with a lush green yard and trees everywhere. We really seem to have lucked out!
At the moment we're at a cafe that makes amazing espresso/Americanos/Lattes, and has wifi! Go Guatemala :)
Time to go and buy some water.
More soon...
North American Travel | August 2, 2009
It was actually a profound relief, in some ways, to get back to Canada. It just feels like home, even though I've only been to Toronto once before on business, and even though I've only really seen the inside of the Sheraton and nothing was familiar, it just feels like Canada again, and for me, for the past three years, Canada has been home.
It wasn't exactly what I was expecting. Many of our Vancouver friends are former Torontarians, and seem to have a love-hate relationship with the city. So, I'd previously written it off as somewhere I didn't need to visit. But, I'm glad I changed my mind.
Toronto is probably awful in winter, and I can see that it doesn't have the natural beauty of Vancouver, but it certainly has it's share of funky cafes, cute streets and a rough and ready urban feel (the 35-day garbage strike that littered the streets with empty coffee cups, soft drink cans and general debris didn't help with this, but we chose to ignore it!)
We wandered Queen Street West, got caught in a massive storm (37mm in 2 hours massive) and had to duck into the nearest cafe. Luckily for us we scored a good one - Java Cafe had $4.75 omelettes and $1.25 coffee! It also tasted great and provided a wonderful perspective from which to watch the downpour. By the time it subsided we were ready to head down the rest of the street.
Queen Street West is literally packed with local designer shops, gorgeous and trendy cafes and people to watch by the dozen. We spent about 45 minutes walking in one direction, came back and had a coffee on the way, then walked home, which literally took us all day. One could easily pass a few days on this street if they wanted to try out more than one cafe and decided to drop a few hundred on Toronto's local couture.
Kensington Market, Chinatown and Yorkville were also on the agenda with daily lunches at different cafes. One particular highlight was Aunties and Uncles cafe just off College Street. The line up we saw on Saturday morning had been enough to tell us it was worth a shot, but we ventured there on Monday instead to avoid some of the crowds, and boy, was it worth it - basil, leek and havarti omlette with a side of dill potato salad and Challah toast anyone?
We had wanted to visit the Toronto Islands for a wander through some of the (apparently) quaint streets, but due to the garbage strike the ferries weren't operating - go figure!
Our last, and probably one of our most anticipated, stops was Montreal. Je taime Montreal...
We visited Montreal last year for two weeks and it truly stole our hearts. So many wonderful restaurants, apportez votre vin (BYO) and that in-your-face attitude that speaks volumes when compared with the overly-attentive style so present in Vancouver, made it one of my favourite cities in the world (so far!)
Given that there was so much build up to this stop, I did wonder whether we would be disappointed ... but no. Montreal has captured our hearts again. We spend most mornings visiting a different area of the city - St Catherine's St (for shopping and coffee), Fairmont St (for bagels, Portuguese chicken and coffee), Jean Talon Markets (for picnic food and ice-creams), The Latin Quarter (for wonderful Turkish Mint Tea), Blvd St Laurent (for Schwartz's smoked meat) and so on. Basically, we walk for a few hours, eat something, then walk back to our B & B, Le Gite.
In the afternoon we chill out, nap, read, surf the net, then around 6.30pm we had to the SAQ (liquor store) search for a likely looking restaurant with "Apportez Votre Vin" in big letters, then tuck in for a good feed.
It really is the life.
Tonight, however, we're living it up like real grown-ups and going to a restaurant that we've heard so much about - Au Pied De Cochon (a pig's foot). We can't even bring our own wine to this one, if that tells you anything about how much we want to go there!
Before that we're going to head to Camelia Sinesis for that Turkish tea I was mentioning, then to Scwartz's for our smoked meat fix. In the afternoon we're heading to Mont Royal for the weekly Sunday Tam Tam session (that's djembe drumming for those non-Quebecers). I just hope it's on today as the weather isn't looking too inviting. It's threatening thunder storms, but I'm going to keep my fingers crossed anyway.
Tomorrow, scarily, is our last day in North America. We have to decide carefully how we're going to spend it, because there are so many wonderful things to do in Montreal (as long as you like eating and drinking!)
Then on August 4th we head to Antigua, Guatemala, for three weeks of Spanish school... this means I may also not be blogging as frequently. It's hard to know what wifi will be like, or how often we might get to internet cafes, but I'm aiming not to be too sporadic.
More soon...
North American Travel | July 30, 2009
After meeting Patti and Steph in Savannah we were lucky enough to be invited to stay with them in New Paltz for a few nights. New Paltz is in the mountains north of New York City (in NY state) and is a picturesque little town with an incredibly funky vibe. You can get 3 delectable tacos for $5, a $1.95 all day breakfast, and pitchers of beer for $5.50 all within two minutes walk of each other. On top of that, there are a load of funky little shops that are practically begging you to open your wallet and purchase a cute little hat, or sherred tie-died dress.
For four nights we stayed with Patti, in her cute house about 15 minutes outside of town. It was a refreshing break, not only from hostels, but also from cities. Luke and I have literally spent the past 1.5 months hopping from city to city, and in New Paltz we finally saw mountains, streams, waterfalls and rolling green fields.
We were initially only going to stay two nights, but after our first day chilling out with Patti and Steph we decided to give Boston a miss and stay on in the country. Lucky for us we did, because on our second night there we went to a BBQ at a friend's place and ended up getting to bed at 3am.
After Luke cooking up a storm on the BBQ (as only male Australians can) and talking the night away with a bunch of new people, we ended up in the dance studio downstairs learning the steps to Michael Jackson's Thriller. Needless to say, at 3am after a few too many glasses of wine, our efforts were fairly dismal, but it was a fun attempt none-the-less. We have video evidence of our sad show somewhere, but I can't seem to get my hands on it at the moment... shame.
The next few days were spent chilling out at various locations around town with both Patti and Steph, partaking in the above-mentioned bargain treats. But, I did manage not to come away with another dress.
On our final night in town we cooked up a storm at Patti's house and had a fire out the back in her firepit. With some Coltrane playing and a few Jameson & Drys it really was a great way to end our stay. It was also our last stay in the USA, as the next evening we hopped a bus to Toronto.
More soon...
North American Travel | July 20, 2009
Washington DC was way cooler than I expected. For some reason I thought it would be ugly and boring. Instead, it was beautiful and interesting. It was even beautiful and interesting after spending the night on a bus from Savannah, with a 2 hour stop at 3am, and a line up of 80 people in front of me to get on the DC bus. Yes, we arrived 3 hours later than intended, but managed to check into the hostel immediately, dump our bags, and head off exploring.
The first day we went to brunch, a well-deserved treat after 17 hours on the road, then headed to the Lincoln monument and the reflection pool thingy. Depsite the milling 1000s it was quite an overwhelming and interesting experience, seeing the words Lincoln spoke at the outset of the civil war and realising the mammoth accomplishment of his reign. By the time we had walked all the way there, all the way through the National Mall, and all the way home, I was almost delirious with tiredness. But, we needed food, so sucked it up and headed to the supermarket, another 20 minute walk away.
The next day we wandered around town, checked out the Holocaust museum and the Whitehouse. It was all very informative, and we ran out of time in the Holocaust museum. One thing I was amazed to see was the level of security at the entrance to each museum. Some simply have metal detectors and check your bags, but at the Holocaust museum they have a full-on bag screening. We also found out, a little too late, that you aren't allowed knives longer than 2.5 inches in the museum. And, sadly for us, Luke had not one, but two, 3.5 inch blades (a Swiss Army knife and an leatherman). God knows why, but he thought it would be useful to carry both around for the day. So, we had to make a quick trip to a likely looking bush and surreptitiously drop them in. Lucky for us they were still there when we went back three hours later.
After DC we headed to Philadelphia. Of course, our first stop was for a Philly Cheesesteak. We must have gone to one of the most famous places in Philadelphia, because there was a line around the corner and it took a good 30 minutes to get the goods (I think there must have been about 60 people in front of us). But, it was worth it. The meaty, cheesy, oniony, bready goodness sure made up for an entire day of not eating due to unpreparedness on the Greyhound!
The next few days we spent wandering round Philly. It's not a very big town, but it's pretty, and we managed to once again find a decent coffee shop (which we went to twice). There are actually lots of museums and what not in Philadelphia, as the city is quite steeped in history, but, being an ignorant pleb, with the attention span of a gnat, I gave those a miss and instead decided to picnic in some parks, drink some vodka pineapples at happy hour, and head out to a pub with some of the hostelers on our last night (yes, once again, we were awake until the wee hours the day before we had to travel somewhere else...)
But, luckily, the trip to NYC from Philadelphia is only two hours, so a drop in the ocean compared to some of our horrific Greyhound overnighters.
We arrived in NYC at our hostel in Harlem around 3pm. We were both starving, and needed food asap. As many know, Harlem used to be quite a dangerous neighbourhood, but is now relatively safe. It does however retain some of it's former grittiness, with an in-your-face attitude and sass coming out the ying yang. I asked a couple of girls who had been at the hostel a while where we should eat, and they suggested heading into town because the neighbourhood was dodgy, with nothing much around. At first I considered it, then I thought, screw that, there must be some food around here somewhere! People in Harlem need pizza at 3pm too! So, Luke and I headed north to 125th St, went east a few blocks, and found the best pizza we had on our entire stay in New York City.
I actually really like Harlem. It sure is lively, with lots of folks hanging out in the streets shooting the breeze, it felt real and alive. It's palpable that what you are seeing is real life in New York, this is how these people live, and this is their neighbourhood. So, we just went with it, eating out at a few places, and frequenting the dodgy deli on the corner for the best BBQ chicken hero I've had. You can't really beat two coffees, a bagel with cream cheese and an egg/cheese/sausage roll for $5 total right???
On our first night in NYC we again somehow managed to get roped into a pub crawl (they really twisted our arms okay?) It was actually a bit of a let down. I guess Wednesday night and pub crawls aren't synonymous. I would rather have stayed chilling out on our hostel's rooftop terrace. It was amazing up there!
The first official NYC day saw us meeting up with some friends from San Fran. That's probably one aspect of our trip that is dramatically different to the camping tour of Europe. On this trip we have met so many people, some of whom we've stayed in contact with and met again in another city, and even other countries (we are hopefully seeing another San Fran buddy in Antigua, Guatemala). After hot dogs in central park and pizza at Ray's near Times Square we hopped a subway to Brooklyn. We were intending to walk over the bridge at sunset, but as we were a little early, we took the opportunity to hang out in a lovely park. The boys threw tennis balls and had nose bleeds and I napped on the astro turf in the shade.
Our walk over the bridge was really amazing. It provided some excellent photo opportunities and was just a nice stroll. We invited the boys back to our place for some pasta and drinks on the rooftop, ending our first very successful day in NYC.
Day two saw me venturing out alone for... SHOPPING. As we all know too well, taking Luke shopping would be about as much fun as sitting on an overnight Greyhound with someone smoking in the toilets... So I headed off alone and had an incredibly successful day. I did plan on removing thing from my backpack to accommodate the new purchases, but so far I have managed to stuff it all in. I'm finding it very hard to part with any of my meager belongings for some reason, so now I just have an even more crowded and heavy backpack.
Day three was a stroll through East Village, Soho, West Village, and Chelsea. We walked High Line, a new urban park that saw a train track converted into recreational space. It's really cool and required some good sitting, eating and resting time to fully appreciate the achievement. East and West Village are really funky areas of NYC, with so many shops, cafes, restaurants and the like. Soho is far more upmarket, with designer stores, fancy gourmet grocers (e.g. Dean and Deluca) and posh looking people stomping around in their 4 inch heeled ankle boots. Chelsea is somewhere in between all that. The highlight for me in Chelsea was the Chelsea market with loads of artisan vendors selling everything from fruit and fish to bread and big bird cupcakes. We purchased our food for the High Line picnic here and I tell no word of a lie when I say that the cherry tomatoes were so sweet, red and delicious I almost vomited from the excitement of it all...
Some sore legs later and we decided on a quiet night in, with deli treats and diggnation.
Our fourth and final day we went in search of a coffee shop in the Financial Disctrict, only to find it closed. Sad. So instead we went again to East Village, followed our noses, and found the second Ninth Street Espresso location (thankfully on Ninth St, so we didn't head too far in the wrong direction). The afternoon involved chilling in central park at one of the free concerts. Lee "Scratch" Perry was performing with dubblestandart on the summer stage. Lee "Scratch" Perry is one of the founding fathers of dub music, but I actually found the set rather dull. It's like they chose a riff, stuck with it for 5 minutes, said a few words about ganja, mary jane, and marijuana, and called it a song.
To make up for the slight disappointment we decided on overpriced Italian Ices, sat on the grass outside and just chilled out for a while. A quick bite to eat in West Village rounded off our stay in NYC, and I have to say, I'm pretty sad to leave. New York is definitely one of my favourite cities so far. I could even imagine living there for a period of time (so long as the rent didn't render me penniless).
Now we're on a bus, on our way to New Paltz (yes, the bus has WIFI!!!) to visit with the two girls we met in Savannah. They were kind enough to invite us up for a visit and who were we to say no?
More soon...
North American Travel | July 9, 2009
So, it's been a bit slow on the old bloggy front, but I have written some articles to tide the hungry crowds over. Our time in New Orleans was interesting, it was not really what I expected in the sense of the city itself, but once we'd found a few bars and some live music I was starting to get the gist. New Orleans is really all about food, drink and music, and I've fairly well summed up what we did for the 6 nights we were there in this article.
One thing that was intensely difficult for me in New Orleans was the weather. I grew up in a country that certainly has it's fair share of heat, but 36 degrees, 80% humidity, and no real breeze to speak of is something I had not bargained for. It is completely stifling, sapping your energy, and making you crave air-conditioning, which is something I generally shun. Our hostel, reviewed here, while moderately disgusting, was also an oasis because our shoddy little cell of a room did have an air-conditioner. So, we spent uncountable hours during the day holed up in its multi-coloured, cramped interior, venturing out closer to sunset to see music, eat food and drink the intoxicatingly strong drinks served up at most bars in NOLA (which stands for New Orleans Louisiana - something I'd never heard before).
One of the highlights was the hours we spent at d.b.a., a jazz bar on Frenchman Street, nursing a few pints of cider and listening to a six-piece bluegrass band (sadly I wrote down the wrong band name upon leaving, so I can't tell you what they were called). The thing that amazed me most were the young people (maybe 25 - 40 year olds) partner dancing to the music. I was almost compelled to get up and try myself, as they mesmerised me with their speedy, neat steps, but alas, my partner dancing skills are not what they should be.
Onto Miami, South Beach, centre for all things ostentatious, over the top, and artificial. The number of fake breasts, tans and hair colours roaming the shores was innumerable. People there seemed to spend all their money on creating an illusion of wealth, prosperity, 'beauty' and the ultimate in a relaxed beach lifestyle, when in actuality they were all bussing tables, serving fries and working at the hostel's front desk. Yes, this is a generality, but South Beach was very far removed from any real lifestyle I can imagine myself having, especially coming from 3 years in Vancouver where Lululemon makes its way into the best restaurants, and goretex is not just tolerated, but embraced.
We were supposed to stay at a hostel that was only 1 block from the beach, but were 'upgraded' to an apartment... 5 blocks further away, with no wifi, no kitchen equipment to speak of, and only two double beds and a table with which to make ourselves at home. Two hours back and forth with the hostel later and we at least had basic kitchen necessities, so we poured ourselves a tumbler of wine and let it be.
Having said all that, the beach was delightful, with crystal clear water, small fish swimming by and some nice white(ish) sand on which to lie our towels. Every day was spent lazing on the beach for a few hours, reading books for a few hours, napping for a few hours, then drinking wine for a few hours. Not much to complain about right? We were also in the heart of the art deco district of South Beach, surrounded by beautiful 1920s - 1940s buildings, painted shades of pastel, white and blue.
Luke and I also had the unique experience of witnessing first-hand a July 4th celebration in America. The crowds at the beach that day were purely ridiculous, drinking booze, swimming, running amok and generally having a blast. In the evening there was a fireworks show on the beach, and this was definitely the highlight of our stay. We arrived at the beach around 8pm with some beers and wine, sat on the sand in the sea breeze and chilled out. It was absolute bliss, I really can't imagine anything better, the beach and wine have to be two of my most favourite things in the entire world, and combining them is the ultimate double-whammy. When the fireworks started I was totally blown away, not because it was the best fireworks display I have ever seen, but because we were so close the impact and the noise enhanced the show incredibly.
After the real fireworks ended, all the revellers started setting off their own small (and actually some not-so-small) poppers. It was insane, things were going off all around us, and not all of them straight up in the air. I can now see why Australia bans the sale of fireworks, it was nuts, we saw people running for their lives from ill-placed crackers. For us it was hilarious and entertaining, seeing fireworks blasting off in all directions. But, I suppose it's not so funny when you're the victim of an erroneously planted skyrocket.
July 5 saw us on an overnight bus to Savannah, Georgia. We were fortunate to be able to check into our Pensione at 10.30am, so we got ourselves some lunch, ate, then promptly fell asleep for the entire afternoon.
Savannah is a beautiful city; imagine oak trees dripping with Spanish Moss, lush parks and squares at every turn and wonderful colonial mansions to ogle. However, Savannah is also incredibly small. So, after about 2 hours of wandering on our first day we had seen most of what the city had to offer. Luke and I aren't big into tours, and other than tours and museums, there isn't all that much to do in Savannah.
We, of course, found a coffee shop in which to while away a few hours, and on our second day a Scottish Pub and a pint (or two) of cider. We also took many photos of all the wonderful houses and squares (apparently there are 24 in the historic district, which is a mighty small area).
We were staying in the carriage house, out the back of the main building of the Pensione, sharing with two girls from New York State. We'd spent a few hours each day chatting with them, and on our last night, as we were planning to make a salad and stay home, we got to chatting again. Over a few glasses of wine we decided to go out with them for the evening and ended up having an amazingly fun night.
First stop was Vincent Van Go Go's for a New York slice. Then, onto a few divey bars around town. The second bar we went to, Club One, is featured in the movie Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. And, with free pool, $4.75 scotch and dry doubles, and a karaoke night happening, we were pretty much set until the call of bed found us at 2.30am. I won my first game of pool EVER, sinking two balls and the eight ball in the space of about 30 seconds. From there on in it was all downhill, but that initial win sure felt good.
As a bonus, we also made two new friends, who have asked us to come and visit them in New Paltz, New York, for a few nights after we finish up in NYC. YAY for spontaneous adventures!
At the moment we are spending a few hours at a coffee shop in Savannah before another overnight bus that will take us to Washington DC for two nights. The bus leaves at 4.40pm and arrives in DC at 5.05am, with a transfer at 2.30am in the morning - good times! We have 1.5 whole baguettes lathered with mayo, chicken, cheese and lettuce to tide us over for lunch, dinner and breakfast, then hopefully we can check in a bit early and wash an entire backpack full of dirty clothes. Ah, the romantic life of a traveler!
As a side note, part of the fun of all this blogging and article writing is hearing what people think about my adventures, opinions, ramblings etc. So, if anyone wants to comment at the bottom of the article, I would love to hear from you! Especially since I'm on the whole other side of the world from many of you :)
More soon...
North American Travel | June 27, 2009
I had heard lots of things about Las Vegas, most of them negative. I'm not a big gambler. As most people know, I've never been willing to live my life on a roll of the dice. In actual fact, I'm the complete opposite of that, organising my life to the nth degree (and sometimes the lives of anyone who happens to be in the vicinity). So, I was definitely not in Vegas for a quick hand of black jack.
All other reports had been of ostentatious architecture, obnoxious crowds of revelers with drinks in glasses resembling the Eiffel Tower, a guitar, a pineapple, or any one of a multitude of over-sized, brightly-coloured plastic shapes, gambling, pokies, bad buffets and bad dress sense.
So, needless to say, my expectations were low.
But, as I hiked from the Greyhound Station in the stifling 40 degree weather, that was so dry my eyelids started sticking to my eyeballs, I had high hopes. Sure, my tongue was as dry as a dessert in the noonday sun, and sure, there was a backpack-shaped sweat mark on my back, but I was not going to be deterred, surely Vegas couldn't be as bad as all that?
We got to the hotel, and after a 30 minute wait in the check-in line, got the keys to our room. It was a palatial suite, two queen beds, a sink, bath, toilet, TV, table and chairs, and even a modestly sized window. I shouldn't really jest, because compared to most of the hostels we'd been staying in, it was paradise. We dumped our bags and went in search of food. We'd been told there was a $20 all-you-can-eat-all-day buffet, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. For the time being we just needed a quick bite of dinner.
Cruising through the retail section of the Stratosphere hotel we were bombarded with tacky tourist souveniers, over-priced handbags and clothes, tacky jewellery and a foodcourt that included Micky D's - all class. We opted for more Mexican - you really can't beat it for value, even in Vegas.
The next day we arose and plunged headlong into the all-you-can-eat-all-day buffet. For $20 it really can't be beat (our meal the night before had cost $20). So, we took our table, had a sip of the ridiculously large juices we were served, and perused our options. I settled on some French Toast, and biscuits (scones for the Aussies) with jam. The French Toast was passable, but since it had been sitting in a bain marie for quite some time, it was also cold. The biscuits were actually delicious, and with a cup of coffee, set my morning off to a good start.
We were both pleasantly surprised with the quality and selection at the buffet, and left overly full (an unavoidable outcome for me when I dabble in the finer arts of buffet dining).
We then hit the streets, and boy oh boy, it was HOT! Once again, my eyes and mouth dried out in an instant, but I soldiered on, reapplied suncream, and made sure to drink lots of water (which was difficult given that water in Vegas tastes a little like baking sode mixed with saline solution).
Stratosphere is a little way down the strip, so we had to walk for about 30 minutes before we encountered anything of note. We were so hot, we decided to seek solace in the Wynn Hotel, and boy did we pick a doosey. The Wynn is magnificent, I was amazed at the granduer of the interior, especially when the exterior appears so plain. It's like something from a movie (and probably does feature in many a movie) and Luke and I revelled in wandering around. I could only imagine being able to afford to stay somewhere so luxurious, but for the time being, the glory of soaking it in as a visitor was enough. One thing I had to do was use the ladies room, I just HAD to see what it felt like to pee in style. And let me say, it felt good. I had never seen a washroom so beautiful, until the next day, when I went to the sister hotel, Encore, and amazingly it's facilities were even more impressive.
After that, we wandered through the Venetian, and I couldn't help but ogle and smile when we entered their replica of Venice. It kinda even felt like Venice (in a really perfected, dark, and air-conditioned kind of way). We wandered all the way up the strip to MGM Grand, and were amazed to see real live lions in an enclosure inside. It seemed a bit cruel to keep those wild animals in a "climate controlled", glass cage, INSIDE. They say the enclosure cost $9 million, but I find that hard to believe, it looked pretty cruddy.
By the time we had finished at MGM we were both knackered, and decided to get the bus back to our hotel. Right about then, a giant storm set in, and gargantuan drops of rain hammered the pavement and us. Everyone was ducking for cover, which I found almost unbelievable given the stifling heat. The rain drops were cool and fresh, and given that Vegas water tasted so bad I was tempted to open my mouth and have a drink. As the water steamed and fizzed on the hot road the smell was unmistakable, transporting me back to hot childhood summers when afternoon storms galloped in unexpectedly to relieve the heat. So, Luke and I stood and got wet, and it felt great.
For those that are unaware, Stratosphere has a giant tower as part of the complex. You can ride a lift 109 stories up and partake in amusement park rides that teeter over the edge of the structure for a mere $12 a piece. I can't think of a better way to spend $12 than to put my life at risk by dangling precariously over the side of a building 900 feet in the air. But, this time around, I gave it a miss. Instead, we watched the sun set over Vegas and the lights of the strip brighten the night sky, reflecting off the clouds, and illuminating the partygoers as if it were day.
The next day was spent in a far more leisurely fashion, relaxing by the pool and doing laundry. What more could you want from a trip to Vegas I ask you? We got suckered in to doing laundry because the machines were free. But, 5 hours, two attempts at washing my clothes, and three attempts at drying them later, I realised that the reason the machines were free was because they sucked. In the end I did come out with clean clothes, but also lost 5 hours of my day trying to complete the task.
We also realised on our second day that the all-you-can-eat-all-day buffet isn't really all it's cracked up to be. After stuffing ourselves silly on the first day, in the excitement of unlimited, already-prepared food, the lustre had somewhat worn off. We began to realise after a while that everything on offer tasted a little the same. The fajitas resembled the pasta, which tasted a little like the roast beef, and somewhat akin to the fried chicken. By the time it came to heading down for dinner it was almost too much to bear. But, I stuffed in one more serving of the lasagne and made my peace with the chocolate brownies.
That night we ventured onto the strip to check out the real Las Vegas, when people come out to party and the scene truly comes to life. Our first stop was to watch the fountain show, giant spurts of wavering water lit up and set to music, in front of the Bellagio. This was one of those times when, even though I knew it was totally uncool, and even though I wanted so badly not to like it, I couldn't keep the cheesy grin off my face. And, given that they chose "Singing in the rain" - a musical classic - as the first song of the evening, I as well and truly sucked in.
Next on the agenda was stopping at one of the dodgy 'convenience'-type stores for a little drinky drink, just because we could. As it turns out, it's not as much fun as you would think being able to drink legally on the street, but we just had to give it a whirl.
By the time we fell into bed at 11.30pm we were absolutely exhausted.
Did I have fun in Vegas? Yes. Would I go back to Vegas? No.
There is just too much waste. The buffet alone would go through enough food to feed at least three times the number of patrons it serves each day. Combine this with the tacky plastic guitar-shaped glasses that get used and thrown out 1000 times a day, all the towels, bathmats, and half-empty mini shampoos that get washed or ditched, and the air-conditioning that is pumped out 24/7 and we really were dealing with a small environmental disaster.
On top of that, there is the gambling, and the tricks and 'deals' the hotels offer to get you to spend, spend, spend. Luke and I were each given $5 free money to use at the slot machines in our hotel (for giving them our email addresses of course - note to self, mark as spam). We did use the money, but the joke's on them, because Luke won $27.34 which we took and ran!
The next morning, as we headed downstairs at 6.15am to get our shuttle to the airport, and I saw the remaining stragglers from last night's gambling efforts, ordering drinks in plastic cups, and smoking their ciggies at the slot machines, I realised that Vegas is actually a really sad place, where more dreams are likely torn to shreds than made come true.
More soon...
Bay's career has been many and varied due to a penchant for traveling the world. After completing a double degree in Business Management and Journalism at the University of Queensland in 2002 she was lucky enough to land herself a job at Brisbane's Quest Community Newspapers. A year of roving reporting brought the epiphany that journalism and Bay didn't jive.
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