Las Vegas II: Viva Las Vegas...

So, in no particular order I have managed to piece together the rest of the week in Las Vegas.  Mostly.
Naturally, day 2 is spent lounging by the pool, comparing respective hangovers and trying our hardest to suck it all in adequately (nobody can deny this - I was doing it and I saw everyone else at it too.  By the end of the week no-one cares and everything is hanging out, spilling over and burnt...)  The pool at the MGM is pretty fantastic though, and we commandeer a group of sun loungers to laze on for most of the day whilst sipping yardsticks of slushy rum cocktails.  Oh, it's a tough life!  Although it's only day 2 in Vegas and already I can feel  my budget spiralling out of control.  $20 per day this is not.  Try $20 per DRINK. Yep, I'm paying the equivalent of a full day in Central America for one cocktail here.  Time to transfer some more money.  Immediately....

Night 2 turns out to be an outrageous evening of nonsense.  What begins as an evening of "quiet" gambling soon turns in to an all-night session of drinking, inappropriate behaviour (though really, there is no such thing in Vegas...) and scaling a 10-foot wall outside Caesar's Palace (whilst trying not to flash body-parts).  It's a long story, and one that ended at 7am in the food court of The MGM with a $70 pizza and a sing-song.  Obviously.

So needless to say, another lazy day follows, lounging by the pool drinking.  A couple of the boys have already overdone it in the sun and are ridiculously red (Brits abroad...), so we're all going to look a treat at when we head out tonight.  It's Friday night, and although every night is party night in Vegas, the weekend usually brings in a bigger crowd.   While walking though New York New York, me and Ursula meet a club promoter who gets us all on the guest list for Tryst at the Wynn. After a pre-drinking session in one of the suites (at $20 a drink, pre-drinking is a pre-requisite...though to be fair, it's a pre-requisite in most nights out), we realise that it will take at least 5 taxis to get us all there.  So instead, we decide to go extravagant and book a stretch Hummer, in a charming shade of hot pink.  I feel like a 12 year old girl.  Or like i'm on a hen weekend.  But it actually works out per person than a taxi, and we all arrive together, so it's entirely justified.

Tryst is (as you'd expect), jam-packed with fake tans, silicon, tight dresses and decadence, but for all its ridiculous extravagance, is really good fun.  Stu has been appointed as my wing-man for evening, but aside from a rugby player I've never heard of (and who all the boys are practically masturbating over), Tryst isn't exactly overrun with attractive men.  Mostly creeps with overly shiny and pointy shoes.  Shame.

So while the rest of us head back to the MGM for a late night munch, an episode of Khloe and Lamar (this was probably just me and Urs...) and a sleep, a few of the boys decide to check out a strip club.  This would have gone largely unnoticed had Stu not turned up at 8am brandishing a bunch of roses (which were actually carnations), therefore arousing suspicion.  Over the course of the week, we manage to eke out the details of the "night of the strip club", and it turns out that one of the boys spent in excess of $300 on "private dances" (make of that what you will...)  $300...?!  Whatever he got, I would have done it for half that. Just sayin'.

We're now half way through the week, and thankfully momentum is still strong. Ok, so we're all a little tired, but drinking through the pain.  We only have to make it through 4 more nights (relatively) unscathed.  Can it be done? Probably not...

Las Vegas I: What Happens in Vegas...

What happens in Vegas....
Well, unfortunately for the other 12 people I was lucky enough to share this trip with, what happens in Vegas is given a healthy dollop of artistic license- and then blogged about by me.
Of course there are certain things that should probably never be mentioned again. Like the hundreds of dollars spent on strippers. Or the wads of cash floundered on gambling. And I should probably keep quiet about the almost-wedding. But i'm not going to. So, welcome to the no-holds barred, kiss-and-tell version of Las Vegas...




I arrive in Vegas (in one piece, no less!), after a 6 hour bus journey from LA. Quite literally everyone I have spoken to has been aghast and recoiled in horror when I tell them that I'm taking the Greyhounnd - apparently, buses in America are the domain of oddities and social lepers; to be avoided by anyone who values personal space, hygiene and not being sexually harassed. Luckily, I forfeited all of these luxuries a long time ago, so the journey is a doddle.
I arrive a couple of hours before everyone else touches down (pretty much everyone else is flying in from Scotland) and make my way to the MGM Grand, where we are staying. Painfully aware of just how ridiculous I look with my backpack on, I rock up to reception and check in as quickly as possible. But getting to our room is another mission altogether. The MGM (like every other hotel in Vegas), is massive. Truly colossal. It takes me 20 minutes to negotiate my way from the main entrance, through the casino (oh how convenient...) and up to our room. The scale of everything is unimaginably big; what initially appears to be a short distance is actually deceptively long. And of course, it doesn't help that there are a variety of distractions (food-courts, shops, casinos etc) everywhere you turn. What begins as a 5 minute jaunt to buy a bottle of water can easily digress in to a 2 hour stint in the blackjack table...

So, our first night in Vegas is a real mixture. Once everyone has arrived, we head out to Margaritaville, a bar and restaurant at the Flamingo Casino, about a 45 minute walk up the strip from the MGM. After some food (the biggest bowl of nachos I've ever seen in my life-hello obesity!)and drinks,we descend on the casino and I try out some gambling for the first time. I'm being broken in gently on the roulette table, and walk away $20 better off (ok, so I'm hardly a high roller), but for my first foray in to the seedy and addictive world of gambling, I'm pretty chuffed.
While me and Ursula hang around the casino till silly o'clock in the morning (we've played our "loser card" and decide not to go to a nightclub), everyone else does us proud by getting spectacularly drunk and going to Surrender nightclub. Not only do they meet Max from cheesy boy-band The Wanted (I'm glad you came etc etc), but one of our trusty reprobates is so wasted that he has to be taken home in a wheelchair. (Usually I prefer to protect the innocent and don't mention names. But it was Ross. Ross Thompson. Oh dear.)

I'm only a tad gutted that I missed out on this night, but certainly make up for it over the course of the week. Which is where it all becomes a bit of a blur.

So consider this an aperatif to the juicy stuff, as a try to piece together my hazy memory from the the rest of a crazy week in Vegas...

Los Angeles: Everybody goes to Hollywood...

After a fairly hilarious flight from Guatemala to LAX via Tampa (the flight attendants warn us that should the plane run in to difficulty, it's vitally important to check our hair is looking good...), I finally arrive in Los Angeles. I'm booked in to the Hollywood Youth Hostel, right on H'Wood Boulevard and leading on to the Walk of Fame. It's a little rough round the edges (some filthy wee beast steals my towel... their funeral!) but for $16 a night, it's the cheapest in town (that isn't in Compton or Inglewood), and the location is pretty hard to beat! Although despite the prestige attached to "Hollywood", there are a lots of freaks and creeps kicking about the Boulevard. In no other city can I recall seeing so many people having full-on conversations (and arguments!) with themselves. It's colourful to say the least...
After a an epic snooze, I head to the laundry room to wash my large and smelly collection of clothes, and there I meet two Dutch girls, Emilie and Maggie. They're heading to LACMA (art museum) later on, so we make plans to go together. It's about a 15 minute bus ride away, and most definitely worth a visit. It's exactly the type of gallery I like; packed full of modern art and with some really nice Warhol, Licthenstein and Koons pieces.
So after out very cultural evening, we decide it's definitely a night to hit a club and check out the LA nightlife. Along with Lilia, a Russian girl who's in the process of moving here, the four of us decide to check out Sunset Strip, and more specifically The Viper Room (was once owned by Johnny Depp, and was where River Phoenix died from a drugs overdose back in the 90's). I'm looking a bit rough (very non-LA), so am a bit apprehensive that the bouncers are going to take one look at me and say "Beat It!" But luckily, "scruffy" pretty much sums up the rest of the clientele, so we fit right in. And even better, it's really not that expensive, so we have a good night listening to the house band and having a few drinks before the doors close. Criminally early. We attempt to find another club, but sadly everywhere is ridiculously expensive (and a wee bit pretentious), so we call it a night and head back.

I'm very lucky to have met Emilie and Maggie, because the 3 of us have similar interests, and very similar (crude) senses of humour. So I actually end up spending the rest of my time in LA with them...and we are startlingly productive! In amongst A LOT of shopping (vintage and otherwise), we manage to squeeze in a trip to the Getty Museuem (lots of classical art and amazing views of the city), a day out at a Long Beach Flea Market(cue a chorus of "Compton, Long Beach, Inglewooood"), a day of hanging out with the hipsters at Venice (the Camden of Los Angeles), some Down Town Mexican food, A day of Santa Monica shopping and dinner (Emilie swears she saw Natasha Bedingfield here...), a visit to the Grammy museum (sooo worth a trip!), and even some drinks at the very fancy Redbury Hotel in Hollywood. So it's an all-round action-packed week of adventure in Los Angeles. We manage to get around mostly ok using the public transport system ($5 per day unlimited travel) despite it being a little unreliable at times. Generally this wouldn't be a problem in any European city, but LA is so vast and spread out that walking anywhere can almost be impossible. This was discovered the hard way, when we had no choice but to wait at the side of the road, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, for a bus that was over an hour late. A sensible idea would definitely be to rent a car!




After 5 nights in sunny LA, it's time to pack up my rucksack once again and say bye to Emilie and Maggie. They are heading back to Holland, and I'm doing the unthinkable; something that no normal American has ever done before. I'm going to Las Vegas....using the Greyhound Bus. A week of sin in the sun with a ton of friends from Scotland. What could possibly go wrong...?

Antigua and Semuc Champey: A Little Bit of Heaven on Earth...

The rest of the week in Guatemala is a mixture of productive and relaxed - well, eventually relaxed! After 2 nights of hostel-induced insomnia (not even my blissed out morning yoga classes can perk me up from this!)me, Sylvia and Melvin (who has bravely arrived on a chicken bus from Nicaragua...30 hours of torture!) decide to move hostel. Surely we can't find anywhere worse...?

Well, amazingly, we do! So after an even worse sleep (with every exhalation I am convinced my bed is going to collapse...), we head back to our original hostel, tails firmly between legs. The grass isn't always greener and all that.... In spite of tiredness, I manage to successfully complete my week-long yoga classes, and definitely feel better for it. Although there are ladies in the class who must be at least 70 who are putting me to shame. Mind you, there's definitely something more-than-a-bit disturbing about seeing a spandex-clad septuagenarian easing in to the splits!

And if you thought a week of yoga was just too much fun, we managed to pack a lot more excitement in to Antigua, using it as a "base" for further afield adventures. One afternoon, we explore the next village round the other side of the volcano. Another, a group of us head to San Lorenzo El Tejar hot springs, a short chicken bus ride away. It might be broad daylight and close by to the city, but (as standard) we've been told to travel in a group and not to stay after 5pm, in case of armed robberies. Either that or bring machetes. (Seriously - the guide book suggests we invest in some hardcore ammo!)
On Thursdays, a market runs at Chichicastenanago, a town a few hours away by chicken bus, so me and Sylvia decide to brave the erratic driving and INSANE roads and head to the market. It's definitely time to shop! The market itself is pretty good, and I manage to pick up a few bargains (a hammock for a tenner...? Yes please!), but definitely the most interesting part was the journey back. When thick black smoke started billowing out from under the bus. Even-less reassuring was when all the locals could do was laugh. We clearly missed the punchline to this joke, but luckily made it back to Antigua unscathed and in a post-market glow, delighted with our new purchases.
Before I leave for my next (and final) stop in Guatemala, me, Sylvia, Melvin, Sofia, Olivier, and Meghan (the same group that went to the hot springs together) decide to climb Volcan Pacaya, which overlooks Guate city. It's actually one of the easier hikes, and we're up and back down in a few hours. And as an added bonus, at the top we stop off and toast marshamallows on the hot earth. The volcano only erupted a few years ago (eeek), but the views form the top are incredible and well worth the park entrance and guide fee. In fact, this is probably one of my favourite days in Antigua, as we finish off the day with a nice meal and a chilled game of cards and a few wines (rock and roll!).

The following day, I have to say my farewells to the others - they are heading to Lago d'Atitlan, and I'm off to Semuc Champey, which boasts natural limestone bridges and tiered turquoise-water lagoons and pools. I'm gutted to be saying my goodbyes already, especially to Sylvia, who I've spent the past 2 weeks with. But we part safe in the knowledge that I'm Holland-bound as soon as possible :-) Luckily though, I ahve managed to secure a pretty cheap deal to get to Semuc - the 7 hour journey there, including 2 nights accommodation is just under $20. Ok, so the accommodation is an "eco-lodge" (usually code for "shit-hole"), but I'm not planning on spending too much time indoors, so the standard doesn't really phase me. It is pretty remote though, so as a bit of forward-planning, I stock up on food before we set off so that I don't have to eat in the hostel's over-priced restaurant while I'm there. This would seem like the logical thing to do...

But it isn't. Oh no. We arrive around midnight, and my bed is essentially a mattress in the floor of an attic, which is fine. But the place is home to a few cats, so I'm awoken around 3 am but one of the little fuckers munching its way through every morsel of food I've brought. Bread, tomatoes, cheese - everything. So that's that plan scuppered then!

The following day, despite a wet and rainy start (it's very humid here, and prone to hot, wet showers), me Yuri (a Japanese girl) and Caspar (a Scottish guy - really! in remote Guatemala!) all head down the winding dirt track to Semuc. And we are absolutely not disappointed. It's an absolutely stunning example of natural beauty - rockpools, waterfalls, and limestone ridges, set among dense and beautiful forest and misty hills. Truly breathtaking and well worth the effort to get there.




After a bit of swimming and a hike up to the mirador, we leave Semuc (buying some locally made chocolate from a little girl on the way) and head back to the hostel. Luckily, the only thing the cat didn't touch was my wine. Well, since we are in the middle of nowhere...

I leave Semuc a couple of days later, after having explored the nearby town of Lanquin. It's back to Antigua for a night, before I take my flight out of Guatemala city to Los Angeles. Very much excited for a change of scenery. And of course, some cleb-spotting in Hollywood...