Leaving Las Vegas

Flying on the red eye tonight from Las Vegas. I had four days in this crazy place on the premise of a best mate’s 50th birthday that never got to happen during the pandemic, and was swiftly thrown together for this past weekend.

Las Vegas really is a nuclear attack on the senses. Some of the things you see, and some of things you can’t un-see are disturbingly funny.

We holed ourselves up at the Cosmopolitan Hotel, which is nicely situ in the middle of the strip, although the hotels make it nigh impossible to leave here, but with 26 restaurants, infinite bars including the iconic Chandelier Bar, plus a handful of secret speakeasy’s made it almost not worth spilling out onto the weed-whiffing streets outside.

The gambling wasn’t particularly successful, although I did learn that Craps is a more enjoyable way to lose money than Black Jack. I don’t understand Poker, although thousands are here competing in the World Series of Poker, and the place was also bulging with hockey fans who witnessed the Golden Knights win the first game of the Stanley Cup on Saturday night.

We ate well, which was pretty much a given, with Beauty & Essex, Scarpetta and Momofuku, which were all in the Cosmopolitan, my favourites.

Saturday night we went off piste and had dinner at the historic Golden Steer, which reminded me of an old school gangster-storied Chicago steakhouse. Pre-drinks were in The Mint Tavern up the street where we walked into a mind-bending world of a swing-dancing class. Now that was a rich mix of oddities!

So, a four and bit hour flight to Philadelphia, then a couple of bleary-eyed hours at the airport before a morning flight back to Bermuda and bed.