It was a quick trip to Vegas, and while I didn’t take the volume of pictures I usually do, I have a few to share.
The sheer size of the strip has become a cacophony of lights and LED screens, purposely designed to overload you, and seek refuge in the dimly lit casinos, it’s own assualt waiting. The neon and LEDs are traded for dings and chimes and shouts.
It is four and a quarter miles of sensory overload, and it is always on the move.
There is no place to sit on the strip, again encouraging people into the casinos for some kind of respite from the trudge amongst the throngs and the attendant smells of sweaty desert heat.
The only town in the states with more walking is NYC, and even it has subways and buses. Getting up and down the strip is more efficient and often quicker on foot than by what little public transport there is (though the monorail is handy and fast, if expensive).
So why would I subject myself to the rigors of Las Vegas, especially when I don’t gamble (very much)? There are the usual reasons. Shows and food are another draw in Sin City (as are other vices, as you can imagine) as much as the tables and slots. Mostly, for me, it is one of the great people watching cities in the world. Whole dramas play out in lobbies and casinos, both sad and triumphant.
While those affairs play out, you can’t see everything in one day (especially if you spend time letting the chaos of thousands of people wash over you).
This visit I jut looked for a place to explore for the day. Most of my visit was spent around The Flamingo and The Linq Promenade, an open-air pedestrian mall, featuring the Las Vegas High Roller (which I didn’t get a picture of, for some weird reason).
I know it seems incongruous that I, well-known shut-in, would find such enjoyment in such a, mostly, artificial place. Maybe that is what appeals to me. Las Vegas shouldn’t exist (and with environmental changes, it may have trouble staying alive, but of course, money, of which Las Vegas has a lot, will probably find a way). Yet it does. Hidden gardens, scantily clad women, and craps tables all exist in weird harmony.
So the world comes to adult Disneyland, a place in the desert created by removing people from their money. Find the little things and let the weirdness of the completely artificial place of decadance and let it flow (I find shades are a good accompaniment, even if it makes dark casinos difficut navigate). All of humanities foils and foibles dance down the sidewalks of the Las Vegas strip.
Most of the pictures these pictures are from the Flamingo Wildlife Habitat, another place that shouldn’t exist.
I really do love Las Vegas, in limited doses, with all the glitter and gilt. The occasional dance with literal chaos is good for me. The world is still alive. Even when some of it shouldn’t exist.