The Meadow
So, after 1,500 miles, 26 hours driving and just 2 hours sleep each, Nick and Pete reached their destination. The city of sin.
Scholars maintain that the meaning of ‘Las Vegas’ was lost centuries ago but some still claim that it means ‘the meadow’. A place less like a meadow you will never see. Vegas sits in the middle of a desert. It is hot. Not just quite hot, but cripplingly hot. The hot air dries your throat and your eyes so that they hurt and nothing can satiate them except a cold beer and diving into the nearest casino to cool down. The climate forces you to sin, even if you didn’t want to.
Mother Theresa, on a visit here a long time ago, ended up drinking and gambling so much that she had to declare herself bankrupt and join a monastery. Even the corner shops have slot machines. It is almost farcical, if you don’t have enough money for your groceries you can make it up at the slots. Just as the lottery is a tax on the stupid, so the slots are reverse ATMs for the vulnerable. The sin pervades everything and seeps into your very soul.
So you can understand why MT fitted in so well here.
Arriving at the USA hostel in downtown, MT were unloading their car as two squad cars pulled up, the officers leapt out and jumped on two passing African-Americans, who put up a stiff resistance to their unexpected handcuffing. Not knowing whether to be worried about the probity of the neighbourhood, or to be pleased at the police presence, MT entered their home for the next few days and lay down, ready to die.
Except that there was one more mission to be completed. The car had to be returned to the nearest Hertz outlet and there was only half an hour before it closed. So Nick left the hostel to return the car, leaving Pete to make friends with the assortment of odd characters who they were sharing a dorm with. Soon Pete began to get frantic text messages about how Nick could not find Hertz, then about how he didn’t have enough money on him to pay the $660 that were owed, then telling how Nick was running around trying to find a cash point which would accept his card, then more about how Nick could not find the Hertz (again, despite having already been there) and finally the triumphant elation describing Nick’s success and how he had somehow managed to get $300 off (still not sure how that happened but sexual favours is the most likely explanation).
The boys celebrated this success by buying some beers and pizza and then going down to the infamous ‘Strip’ where all the major hotel/casinos are located. The night was spent mainly in Margaritaville, where most of the money saved on the car was expediently blown on frozen Maragritas. On two hours sleep and very little food, MT very quickly became blind drunk and knowledge of the rest of the nights antics has been mainly lost. But suffice to say it was a whir of dancing, drinking, girls and quite possibly some climbing.
MT did, somehow, manage to find their way home and awoke on July 4th, ready to celebrate American Independence (not) in the city they humbly call ‘the meadow’.
