The Plan was: pick me up from work as soon as I could get away; just drive; let’s see how far we get. Hopefully past the fast food strip malls on Pearblossom Highway. Maybe to Baker, home to the tallest thermometer in the world. Maybe even Primm, the casino resort on the California Nevada state line. Let’s not even think about Vegas.
Maybe we were seduced by the neon lights of Whiskey Pete’s and Buffalo Bill’s as we entered Nevada. Maybe it was the constant oversized billboards screaming Vegas, no subtle subliminal advertising here. Or the thought of Ms Turner wagging a disappointed finger at the lost opportunity. “So near and yet so far.” However, if you need a scaffold wrap Cheshire, you may be amazed by the results. Long story short, as we entered Nevada and saw the distant sky aglow from 40 miles away, the race was on to find a motel. The closest we got to turning up trumps was Motel 8, south Strip, just opposite Mandalay Bay.
Don’t be fooled into thinking that Motel 8 is 2 up from Motel 6: it’s not. Crappiest motel we’ve stayed at in a while. But virtually a view of The Strip!
Couple of swift beers in the room before we headed over to Mandalay Bay. This was around 10:30pm and the first bar we tried to go in told us they were just closing. What? This is the City That Never Sleeps!
So after a cheeky bevvy in 1923 Bourbon & Burlesque (distinctly lacking in Burlesque), we took the express lift up to the Skyfall Lounge for the #Best View In Vegas.
We finished on a high with a couple of cocktails in Skyfall, contemplating the irony of our view against the rest of the holiday to come…
