Sin City here we come

The Anzac contingent - Flashman, Lady P and the Major (Roger, Penny and Tas) and Warren Tammy and Mikayla from NZ, assembled for a surprisingly good breakfast in the airport hotel with decent coffee and as Flashman noticed, cheeky buxom waitresses. As is the tradition in these matters, the car GPS requires a name. So, Betty Sue or some such American name was proposed. However, after she took us around the block in the wrong direction and then had us in the middle of a parking lot when we were actually heading the wrong way on the Freeway, well "Stupid Bitch" just seemed to fit better. Eventually Lady P, ensconced in the back of the Chevy Impala, used her mobile phone and the old fashioned back up paper maps provided by the Major, to get us on the right track to Sin City. We stopped at Barstow for some water and the Kiwis ordered the worst fried something from Popeye takeaway and Lady P hits the wheel while Flashman retires to the back seat in charge of the handbags, maps and importantly, the water and dried fruit/nuts. Just as well too, because ten minutes out of town the Interstate becomes a parking lot. Obviously an accident has shut down the highway and we wait for an hour before resuming the trip. Flashy carefully doles out the nuts and water, while Lady P and the Major discuss how to survive in the Mojave desert in 103 F degree heat that surrounds us. Luckily, Flashy has his Swiss Army pocket knife handy. We hit Las Vegas late in the afternoon and find Joanne and her friend Stephanie in reception of the New York New York Hotel and Casino and the party begins. After wandering around the Casino and sampling some beverages in the recreated New York streetscape, we head down town (in a 10 seat Limo, having now picked up more of Joanne's birthday friends) to the old Vegas and the Freemont Experience, past the charming Elvis Wedding Chapel and through a dodgy area where the motels rent by the hour. The old (original strip) Vegas is pumping with many strange people about, including a number of men in mankinis and a scantily dressed blonde number dressed as an angel - well, an almost naked angel. Cute tattoo as well. Joanne has us on a predetermined tour which leads to, surprise, a cooling beverage at a micro brewery then Slotzilla! That's where you climb to the top of a three story tower, get strapped belly down into a harness and clipped to 100 meters of steel cable running the length of Freemont Street and let loose like flying supermen. Looks great from street level and a real buzz actually doing it. I think the 15 year old (obviously well trained and competent?) staff were amazed that a bunch of older folk such as us, took to it with such aplomb. We survive to hunt down a $16 all you can eat, typically Vegas buffet dinner in one of the original Casinos, "The Golden Nugget". You may be surprised to hear that it was actually reasonable quality food. As Flashy begins to hit the wall of jetlag, we stumble across a nice chap offering to take us back to the New York New York Hotel, which is a considerable distance away. The Major asks "So, who is this guy?" Flashman has no idea, but regains some credibility when the nice man opens the door to his glitzy stretch limo. Beauty! only $10 per head and we make it back to our hotel for, yes, a nightcap. By now it's almost midnight and while the others, including, amazingly, Lady P are still awake, Flashy is a walking zombie. Bed never looked so good.