Archives for category: Las Vegas

From reading this blog you could reasonably expect that the whole of America is ugly and disgusting. There are enormous swathes of it that are, and because I’m a bit of a bastard I find it much easier to be disparaging about these bits rather than concentrate too much on the places in between that mean that I am actually having a remarkably good time on this trip and not just wasting a few months being angry at fat people.

However today I would like to pay tribute to the nice things that we saw on our drive from Las Vegas, through the Sequoia National Forest and up through California. Let’s look at some trees.

Not just any trees either, but really massive trees. In fact, this tree is the biggest known, living tree in the world.

He is about a gazillion metres wide and ten gazillion metres tall.

There are lots of other very big trees in this forest.

Trees with crazy ass roots.

Trees you can make friends with.

Trees you can hide in.

Trees you can drive through.

And when you’ve had enough of trees you can climb to the top of a mountain and sit on a rock and forget that you’re in the filthiest, fattest, most warmongering, socio-economically deluded country in the world.



Las Vegas is horrible. If you read my earlier blog about the cruise we went on, take all the disturbing, ugly, dementedly tacky shit from it and turn it up to ten, you get approximately nowhere near how awful this town is.

Despite knowing that it was full of hookers, off-duty naked British royals and couples getting drunkenly hitched, we had been duped, mostly by George Clooney being so bloody suave and handsome in Ocean’s Eleven, in to thinking that Vegas still retained some glitz, glamour and what a stuck up European like me might quietly describe as ‘class.’ We were wrong. While we had pressed our trousers and skirts in anticipation of partying with supermodels and formula one drivers, the rest of the town was content with rolling around on mobility scooters wearing their pyjamas, smoking cigarettes and clinging to plastic cups filled with a litre of strawberry daiquiri.

But we didn’t let this get us down. We embraced the shit out of it. Because if there’s one thing that Lovisa and I enjoy more than taking the piss out of everything that is wrong in the world, it’s being everything that is wrong in the world.

Here you can see we enjoyed a day out by the canal in Venice. And by “in Venice,” of course I mean “somewhere in the depths of an enormous hotel in the Nevada desert.”

Culture, see?

Of course Vegas does have a culture of its own. It’s called getting off your tits and throwing all your money in a machine or on a table with the drunken belief that you might get some of it back.

We duly got ourselves some $2 margaritas and put these bad boys in to a slot machine.

A combination of alcohol-induced faith, beginners luck and/or button-pushing/handle-pulling skills left us getting almost all the money back out of said machine. They say the house always wins but in this case it was clearly us as we wanted to have a genuine Las Vegas experience and losing $30 to a slot machine is surely the most authentically Vegas thing one can do. Perhaps we should have lost more, had our relationship break down, slept with a prostitute, become unemployed and started begging in the street with a sign claiming we were Vietnam War veterans, but we were just too awesome at pulling that handle.