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...
Love Love Love
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