Waking up in Las Vegas
Waking up very early in Las Vegas is more precise this morning. My body clock and my eyes are not in tally at all.
I was 14 hours late arriving into Las Vegas yesterday after the plane was hit by lightning on it’s journey into New York’s JFK, thus meaning an unexpected and irritating stopover at this funky hotel at the airport.
This West Coast work jaunt was a regular fixture on the calendar before Covid. We used to use Las Vegas as a resting spot, before going on to California. Vegas is no place to rest of course and this time around we came here even earlier, or at least were meant to, to meet with a new client all day yesterday.
When I finally hit the pillow, after being nudged awake by a colleague at the downstairs bar, I’d been up for 25 hours.
I’m staying at the Bellagio, which is a client’s property, and famed for it’s fountains. The rooms are a little tired, and of course the whole place is vast. Surprisingly mask wearing is compulsory here, even though it’s very fair to say Las Vegas is well and truly open.
I’m watching the football at the moment in the hotel room, very relaxed in the knowledge that those Addicks have already won before the weekend has started.
Some Vegas type R&R this weekend with a full day of meetings on Monday and then we fly to Los Angeles on Tuesday morning.
I’m in the U.S. for a month now ending up in Sarasota at Christmas. I hope Santa can find me.