40~Viva Las Vegas!

I really must not dilly dally and divulge the last 24 hours... I have blogs half written, two on the brink of a final edit (neglected, sat in the unpublished area of my blog profile sad and waiting for over a fortnight), copious notes in my journal and mind meanderings that must be committed to computer... So I ignore my need to be chronological in order to relay tales of Nevada. I thought I should head to Vegas- logically it is not the place for me. I have been yearning wide open spaces, seeking mountains and lakes. Many people said I probably would not like it. But I felt a pull.

‘It is sometimes wiser to follow the dreams of your heart than the logic of your mind.’

 ~Valerie Steele

Arriving from Portland, Oregon on America's cheapo airline Spirit two nights ago, I knew I was in for a ride. On top of being somewhere so alien and such a contrast to my previous spots of White Rock and a cosy neighbourhood in Portland, I had no set plans after my two nights in Vegas and needed to formulate a plan. Getting plastered and a shot gun wedding was not the answer to this problem, that was all I was sure of.

Apparently travelling to Las Vegas alone is not really the done thing (a few locals I chat too actually raise their eyebrows on hearing this information and one girl wrinkles her nose in what appears to be disapproval verging on possible disgust), although I have to say I have enjoyed myself immensely. I can't confess to falling in to the typical Vegas traditions but I certainly observed them!

Someone had said to me that nobody lives in Vegas. And I guess the crazy world of the strip would make you think that. But in fact there are a hell of a lot of inhabitants- the sheer workforce covering the endless shops, casinos and all that jazz must have homes to go to. I stay out of the way in a lovely airbnb with a very cool couple who have lots of exciting media ventures and projects. (They very kindly give me a ride to the car hire place when I leave and I learn so much about Vegas and the work they do- if I get time I must share some of it...) It seems quite alarming to realise that you are plonked in the bloody middle of the desert in such an extraordinary metropolis. And thank goodness for airbnb- it has really provided an insight for something other than the all consuming strip in Vegas. Staying away from surreal bubble gave me chance to glimpse life beyond. The strip is energetically captivating and magnetising- stepping away feels like you are making an exit out of a topsy turvy world and in turn, into something more genuine.

My host recommends a little park nearby for an early morning run and I head out and am blasted by the desert sun, the desert foliage and ferns, the desert sky. Everything seems huge. Vast blocks and space on the wide roads. People walking in the park in couples (mostly elderly) say hello and all is friendly and lovely. The woman in Walgreens is impressed with my smoothie and nut selection and observes that it looks like I am going to have I high energy day. I hope so, I tell her, I only have one day in Vegas and I want to make the most of it! The positive vibes all before 8am I take as a very good sign. The people here are already lovely. I manage to concoct a plan when I return and head out to catch the bus to the strip. It is sweltering.

The strip is quite something. Energy is high and there are hordes of people and all things Vegas in abundance.

My hosts recommendation is to see Old Vegas. Just hop on The Deuce bus and it takes you down the strip. That in itself is an experience. I love it. It is full and there is commotion and all sorts of people. Freemount area is noticeably calmer. Total different feel and so much more retro.

I consider where to eat and am bemused that the bus driver says the Deuce bus picks us up outside the 'Heart Attack Grill' on the Boulevard. There is laughter on the bus. "I'm serious, folks!" she announces with a chuckle herself. She was not kidding- if you weigh in over 350lbs you eat for free.

Wowser. I am hungry and hope for something different to what seems on offer. Freemount are and this Old Vegas seems as laden down with greasy fast food chains much like the strip. As if by magic, down some street I amble along, I am swept into an AMAZING juice shop with two blokes on a hangover and a gym bunny who pulls up in a fancy car (this 'Grassroots' juice is somewhere that my host has been trying to get to- I learn later that I certainly landed in the part known by the locals). I hydrate with watermelon, strawberries and mint. I find a beautiful Mexican restaurant with nothing fake about it. My waiter is lovely; he wants to visit Portland or Seattle, he has cute glasses and talks about hikes in Zion. He calls me a good girl because I am writing postcards to the family. I feel like I have found somewhere not so plastic, where I can breathe and enjoy. He is surprised I am alone and is particularly attentive and caring in his manner. I thank him when I leave for taking care of me so nicely.

I head to the Post Office around the corner and have an interesting experience. The queue is slow to move and there seems to be a shortage of staff. Seemingly, out of nowhere, there is quite the altercation between an elderly man and a young woman about who was first in the line. It gets quite nasty. He believes her to have an attitude problem because he is black. You said it, is her retort all sassy and aggro. She accuses him of trying to intimidate her but threatens him with her lack of fear as she is one type of bitch he does not want to mess with. I know I do not. I avert my eyes, focusing on the pretty postcards. "What sort of bitch are you?" he asks. She says, "I am a Latino downtown bitch and that there ain't no one that is going to intimidate me." She takes some low blows, cheap shots insulting the pen marks he has on the back of his shirt I can't remember her exact answer but it was related to her ethnicity. The lone staff member steps in from behind the counter with some firm and kindly words. "Now here, you two, stop now. We have already had an arrest in here today and I don't want another."This causes the girl to pipe immediately down with a sugary sweet, sardonic drawl of , 'I am sorry ma'am. I was not aware it was a crime to sit down... But I respect the elderly. Some people just lack manners and have to jump in line....' Blah, blah. She chunters on but her grumbles are quieter. The man is shaking his head in apparent disgust of her lack of ladylike behaviour, I guess.  I am relieved this intervention has worked, although she as I was worried this aggro twosome might decide to resort to fisty cuffs. I didn't really care to see this downtown bitch scratch an elderly man's eyes out or for him to whack her with his cane. She sasses out after he allows her to go first, making un-princesslike remarks. A sarcastic and over the top sweet retort to the Post Office worker who is obliged to ask whether or not any stamps are needed today: "Peachy-keen." She gives a royal flourish and bow, saying a sarcastic, "After you, sir." This is a slight failure as a closing line: she has gone first, not after and then needs to get by.

I ride the bus back down the strip and listen to a ma and pops with their son and his gal regaling last nights adventures. The son is half cut and flirting with the two ladies in front of me (who are rather large and twice his age). They have been providing a commentary on the sights we pass that I am enjoying listening too. And I cannot help exclaim to them as we pass a Wedding Chapel about how nice the bride looked entering it. "She sure does," the lady says with such kindness and with a sweet nod at me. There is raucous laughter and merriment. People chat to each other and make friends momentarily. Everyone is in holiday mode (probably intoxicated) and enjoying what this strip has to offer. No one is on this bus alone. Apart from me. But everyone is having fun and I feel somewhat included.

I decide to go to Venice.

I people watch. There seems to be all sorts of people here. Tourists from all over the shop taking in the spectacles, (partaking in them too, of course and no doubt some will become the spectacle themselves) people living within and around the spectacle of the strip. Topless cabaret; chapels with elvis and gothic themes; vans with 'Girls on Deliver' slogans; two men dressed in diapers and angels wings dancing to club music; endless casinos; people handing out leaflets; outside escalators transporting people across the 8 lines of traffic; shoppers; flesh on display and I guess I could go on... A couple stop to inspect a patch of lush and emerald green grass. It is fake. I am recommended an oxygen bar to feel great- I say I prefer yoga but the principle is great. Breathe deeper and fill your lungs. We generally do not use their capacity and it is amazing how differently you do feel when you breathe a little deeper, I inform the promoter. He grins and nods.

I go on the equivalent of The London Eye, perfectly timed as the sun begins to set:-

I wander till dusk and darkness to see the lights and the wildness that ensues. The throb of the crowds and activity is powerful. But there is always Paris to make you feel close to home.

My wait on the bus stop to get back tonight was just something else. Although just round the corner from Caeser's Palace, I am at a stop where people begin to congregate from work or from their daily adventures. The bus is notoriously late (so I soon learn) and before I know it, I have attracted some bus buddies. A chap with such a bounce sits right beside me. He is kind of goofy but with such a chipper, youthful positivity and energy that he is kind of impossible to ignore. He engages with me immediately and the conversation is hilarious. He says that he thinks I am that actress out of 'Iron Man' and it escalates. He gets people to agree; practically taking a poll. I am massively complimented- especially as I really have not been feeling nice. I am certainly bedraggled, not at all up to scratch with all these dressed up folks on the strip. So out of place and becoming aware as the girls sauntered around, dolled up to the nines. He thinks we should get married, I should get him a role in a film and we could travel the world together. Meanwhile, he is rolling a questionable cigarette using a dollar bill in a somewhat elaborate process in a rather skilled and slick manner. After smoking this, he begins to believe he is Iron Man as he looks at me. "I think I could be! I feel like I am in that movie!" I am laughing a lot but also conscious his actions are against the law (he is also talking about guns, a twin killing their sibling on the Discovery channel and flipping from one controversial and potentially unnerving topic to another). A girl that is Las Vegas born and bred is sat on the other side of him and we are both highly amused; I feel less wary as she must know the score. A nice elderly man named Lloyd takes Iron Man's seat beside me. Iron Man has decided to stand and smoke to not incriminate Pepper as I surely have important movie business to attend to. He asks Lloyd if I could be Pepper. He says, "I don't know who that is but she is beautiful young lady." I CANNOT believe it. This bus shelter lighting must be flattering and the matted sweaty hair at the nape of my neck unseen by these kind people. And although it feels indulgent to soak up their compliments, I decide to because it is so kind. But the most magic thing is the laughter, I am in stitches with Iron Man's chatter. That feels good and maybe is what makes Iron Man see something nice in me. He has been happy to make me and the local gal laugh.

Iron Man disappears- someone is interested in sharing his smoke. The bus finally arrives and I observe all sorts of people. Some potentially very rough and certainly different walks of life. The two ladies in front of me (strangers) have a tender conversation. Initially broached over the strong smelling substance one of them is trying to stifle in her handbag. The other lady has been in Vegas 5 years and her sister is sick. It is hard and she is sad. I see my stop and in the darkness with the lights of the strip far away, I walk through the desert night air and cover a few lonely but lovely blocks and snuggle in to bed. Still smiling. A Las Vegas screensaver playing in my mind.

Utah, next stop. I have a date with Angel's Landing. A vague idea of a loop to hit various National Parks and hikes. Hopefully it will all come together. As I hit the roads in vague terror, taking a wrong turn, ending up on the highway without my GPS and having to get myself on to the strip in a series of double backs and twists and turns. I find my way, first sorting the GPS and hitting Wholefoods as I had the shakes. No food and mild panic in a fancy car. Jitters in Vegas- where is that Oxygen Bar?

I snuggle into the plush seats, drink up the scenery, dare to put the radio on. Liberated by the open roads, the scenery and conquering the highways of Vegas. Once again the car hire people take pity on me and put me in a flash car. I cruise to Utah. The powder blue sky with a few powder puff clouds cast shadows on the desert as I leave. My heart soars and I am humbled, full of gratitude. I am amazed as dusk falls in a whole new world. Colours new.

So being a lone Wolff can have moments of apprehension. But amazing things unfurl too. I relish in it and I love Las Vegas and the heroes within. The people who visit, with warmth and kindness to their fellow holidaymakers, the lone girl riding the bus or sitting in pod; the local people who are proud of their home city and endeavour to help us tourists; the kindly and encouraging car hire guy who loves my last name as a wolf is his second favourite animal (a cheetah is his first); my Iron Man; bus buddies and my wonderful airbnb hosts provided an authenticity, the comfort and a cushion to let me see past all the Vegas sparkle. Glimpse a little of life beyond the strip, to the heart and the lovely hum of an extraordinary glittery spot in our world. Viva Las Vegas!

‘As I started looking, I found more and more.’ ~Valerie Steele