Sunday, 31 July 2011
you gotta know when to hold 'em, and know when to fold 'em
As its Vegas, we can't tell too many tales of what goes on. However, my gambling was pretty good.
I decided to splurge a full $10 on the slots and started out at the Rio, whilst collecting some tickets for a show.
I worked my way through a variety of low spend machines, winning a dollar or two as I went along. When I found a winning machine, a man popped up from behind it and started singing on a small stage. Only one number, but I wondered if it had been done to distract.
I continued and then a few minutes later a dancing girl wearing not very much popped up on the same stage whilst another started to offer me drinks. I was up to at least $16 by this point, and the machine was making all manner of excited sounds.
In the end, I had to leave, but cashed in my winnings which finally peaked at $18 - thats a full $8 profit for less that half an hour of button pressing.
I returned to the Palazzo and decided to try a similar machine to see if my luck continued.
But No. In less than five minutes my winnings were wiped out and I was down to $2 from my original $10.
I decided to save the $2 for a later gamble.
This played out when we were on our way back from a restaurant. I put the $2 into a machine and pressed the button for what amounted to 3 or 4 goes. On the third go, some lights flashed and the machine went into deep thought for what seemed like a long time.
I'd won again. This time $135. I decide to press the 'print coupon' button and triumphantly cashed the money.
At this point I could say I had gambled successfully in Vegas.
But don't tell anyone.
Saturday, 30 July 2011
in the skyline of signs
From my various dalliances with Vegas, I'd decided that the Venetian was my hotel of preference.
This time we are actually sleeping way up in the sky at the adjoining sister hotel which is called the Palazzo. It's a huge room in what is really the same vast complex and still has the Venetian canal system that runs through the shopping mall. The room is high enough to make eye-contact with the many passing helicopters and our room looks down on many of the hotels including the overly golden Trump towers.
The predecessor of the Venetian for the indoor faux Italian street scenes was the Bellagio, which is the one often shown in 'heist' movies although staying in the simulated daylight or evening of the Venetian works surprisingly well. Look carefully in the picture and you can see the sprinkler system in the sky.
Many people can be a bit snooty about Las Vegas, but as a short break of 2-3 days it is something of a global and slightly bonkers 'one-off'. Suspend certain critical functions when entering this topless pizza other-world.
As we arrived yesterday through the ten story neon signs I was reminded that night-time Las Vegas is where everyone drives with an attitude as if they have just consumed about a dozen Red Bull caffeine drinks, don't yield at crossings and will jump lights and jostle for a one car advantage.
I'm valet parked until we crack the system in this desert town that hides the hours.
Friday, 29 July 2011
Scarlet's Walk as a soundtrack
There's even more mental editing to keep this blog running whilst on vacation and trying to stay to a ten minute per post rule. It'll be impressions more than anything.
I'm travelling fairly backpack light, so the usual paraphernalia of cameras and suchlike technology is mainly back in the UK. Like another desert wandering blogger, iPhone will sometimes suffice.
The trip is also a useful stimulus for the Circle (book three of The Triangle). I've got some great ideas. But they must wait. It's a full time job 'doing it' at the moment, let alone writing about it.
Then there's water. Despite the desert pictures, we have seen some of that too. Stepped in it, crossed it, swam in it. Oh yes.
And last night we drifted out of one kind of desert into another. The type that suddenly switches on as if a giant has carelessly tossed golden jewels across the sand. Too many to count, each one glittering with someone's hopes but in an environment designed to extract more than it places back.
Yes. We are in Vegas. As Tori might say:
and the Jacaranda tree
is telling me
It's not over yet,
just by the way She bends
"if you come breezin' through"
you said "I'll know that it's
you by the taste on my lips,
Bet on the desert's kiss"
See you on the 44th floor.
a hell of a place to lose a cow
We've been out to a place called Rainbow Bridge. My assumptions were that the colours in the rock formations would explain the Rainbow and then the arch formed by the wind erosion would explain the Bridge.
I was therefore delighted when we'd been there for a few minutes, to look into the sky and see a strange rainbow stripe across it. Not like a usual rainbow arch, but instead a straight line showing a spectrum of colours. I did grab a few shots and I'm pleased to say that the colours were also picked out by the camera.
I shall have to puzzle how this works, probably something to do with the bowl shaped canyon that we were peering into and a particular time of day. Or else its the native American gods of the area painting the sky.
The area is part of Bryce canyon, named after Ebenezer Bryce, one of the early mormon settlers who clearly had a sense of humour with his famous quote about the area.
The much earlier settlers, the native american Paite Indians, had a different story for the place. They told that it was a valley where the Legend People (to-when-ang-wa) lived.
They were of many kinds - birds, animals, lizards and such like - but they looked like people. For some reason, the Legend People that lived in that place were bad. Because they were bad, the Coyote turned them all into rocks. You can see them in that place now, some standing, some sitting and some holding on to one another. You can see their faces, with paint on, just as they were before Coyote turned them into rocks.
And as if that wasn't enough, by sitting still, I was then visited by a Raven, another mystical being from the old stories.
The Raven started as a snow white bird, but changed colour to black bringing the elements to mankind. He stole the Sun, Moon and Stars, fresh water and a brand of Fire from where they had been hidden by the mankind-hating Gray Eagle when visiting his lodge to see Gray Eagle's daughter.
The Raven fastened the Sun to the sky and used its light to fly to a far island where he hung the Moon. Then as the Sun set, he arranged the Stars in the sky. Next day, he dropped the fresh Water at a good spot where it became the source for all fresh water.
The Raven still had a brand of Fire in his bill and as he flew on it made his feathers black from the smoke. Eventually it was too hot to hold and he dropped it, where it struck stones and was hidden within them.
That is why, to this day, if you strike two stones together, spaces will fly from them. The Raven's feathers never returned to white.
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Along the valley floor
A South Western style breakfast burrito this morning before we set off towards more of the cowboy country.
We'd slept in a small town (Pop 300) founded by Mormons who’d cut a tough new route through the rocks to open up the southern edge of Utah.
Seeing a picture of the original pioneers lined up in their Sunday best gave little clue to the rugged hardship of the journey they'd all made.
Onward toward the land filmed by John Ford and a part of so many westerns. We stopped at the one time small trading post used as a hotel by John Wayne and many others when filming The Searchers and many other western classics.
Then crossing the border back into Arizona exploring the breathtaking valley floor within the Navajo reservation.
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
Utah around sunrise
Standing by the Utah roadside just around sun-rise.
You can hear the trucks on this high-desert road from miles away as they approach.
The small roadside foliage hides flying critters just waiting to see what's so different about a European as they wait to pounce.
Me, I may be standing by another stretch of black-top in the middle of a desert, but I realise I'm grinning broadly.
weather check in Durango
It's been a strange kind of day. We started in the sunny hills outside of Durango with a plan to go north to a small mining village. The top picture shows the yard of the place where we slept.
But shortly after we started, the sky ahead turned grey, so we revised our plan and headed south west towards the finer weather (by evening we discovered we'd missed flash floods and 3/4inch hailstones)
Instead we wound up in a sunny and hot native American reservation where we followed some of the trails.
Spectacular with views across four US States from around 9000 feet elevation and deep canyons cutting throughout the landscape.
We spotted various generations of pueblo living, from the early years of AD, when the dwellers lived underground in pits, through AD700-800 when they lived in buildings of brick and wattle, and then into the 1200s, when they moved to an intricate way of building brick structures into the cliff faces of the area.
And then, by evening, we'd crossed the spacey alien and surreal landscape from New Mexico into Utah, and found ourselves sitting outdoors during sunset, whilst enjoying a cowboy-style supper.
Monday, 25 July 2011
coffee break
We're reloading the car for today's route to Durango still buzzing from all the news since meeting our Albuquerque friends yesterday.
Before we hit today's new Route 84 we'll drop back into Santa Fe for a last moment on Route 66 and to refuel for the journey.
It's still early morning right now, with already a strong sunlight and blue skies. I'm operating on coffee alone at the moment and will probably hold eating until we get back into the centre of town.
We've already been looking at maps and decided a route which will take us past many Native American sights along the Rio Grande and Rio Chama on the way north-west to Colorado for the next leg of our journey.
Santa Fe
Santa Fe today, which wasn't quite as I'd expected it. I'd anticipated the middle of town to be high rise, but Santa Fe definitely is not. It's a Pueblo revival style of architecture, with most of the buildings around two stories high.
It works well to make a charming centre to the city, which was still sleepily awakening when we arrived in the centre on Sunday morning. We'd started early with coffees 'to go' so that we could be back by 1pm to meet some nearby friends. Not quite our original plan for how to meet, but close enough.
We'd sent them a mail throughout the post, when we left England, because we didn't have the right electronic means of communication. A few mishaps, but we were now all synchronised to meet. It should have been in Albuquerque, but hey.
Sunday, 24 July 2011
mah-waan, mah-waan
We're still heading east and spent part of today on Route 66 spotting many shiny vehicles and a large assortment of Harley motorcycles.
Eventually it was time to head north towards the Rio Grande and the mountains.
All along the route are many signs of the native American Indians and tonight we're staying with the people of the Picuris Pueblo. They settled in the area some 800 years ago as the 'people of a hidden valley'. Nowadays, they are an intrinsic part of the scene around Santa Fe.
Saturday, 23 July 2011
day sky black
The storm clouds that had blackened the sky also cracked with that lightning that goes across the sky instead of up and down.
We could hear gods arguing but no sign of tears. Then suddenly, a silence and minutes later a fierce drumming as the rain kicked for fifteen minutes before a new blue appeared and the sun returned.
Later we saw a weather report with splashes of red heat across most of America. The all-time New York record of 104 was lower than most of the temperatures we'd experienced since being here right up to the thunderstorms.
Getting my kicks
The idea of many of the Main Streets in USA being joined together by the old Route 66 was an interesting one, even if the Superhighways criss- crossing America brought an inevitable end to the old route with the crowded rise of the automobile.
I've travelled part of Route 66 before, but this time am further East, currently in New Mexico, where the road gets its own special signage and every so often there's a strip of it that's been refurbished.
What better place to stop at a brilliant diner and eat a blue plate special from the counter, sitting on one of those spinning stools? And don't forget the milkshake.
Mine's a strawberry.
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