Thursday, 8 November 2012

Dad and Dave's US Adventure, part 6, bright lights in the middle of the desert

I'd set an alarm so we'd have time to pack our shit and bail out of the hotel early and make our way to Vegas. I woke up before it. Aaron was already up, that fucker has ADD I'm sure. He's running around like a blue arsed fly, I lazily get up, hit the bathroom, drop the kids off, soap up the nuts, throw stuff in my bag, and I'm set. Shit.. "Have you heard from dad yet?" I ask.. "nope, haven't checked on him"

I knock on the adjoining door between rooms.. "Dad.. oi, Lance.. you up?"


"Oi.. you awake?"

*mumbles from the other room*

"fuck it, he'll get up soon enough" I say, and we go about gettin our stuff together. Then the door opens. "Oh I see" I say, he's up, showered, and ready to roll. "Aren't you hilarious, fuckin old cunt".

We jam outta there, I'm driving, earlier we decided we should go to the Getty Museum before heading out of town, get some culture into us. Apparently it's an amazing place, sure it's a little in the wrong direction, but shit, when will I be back here. 
If you noticed I said 'apparently', yeah that's coz when we drove 20 minutes out of our way to go to this amazing place, we were promptly told by a security guard at the main gate that it was shut on Mondays. C You Next Tuesday. . 

Dad's riding shotgun, I'm driving, Fanta pants is in the back, tunes are cranked, we head back up the 405 freeway, hit the 101 east and get involved in LA traffic, nothing too heavy, it's about 10:30am, the freeways over there rely heavily on a numbered system, and it cam be confusing as the 101 turns into the 134, into the 210, (past Rancho Cucamonga, no shit) before we head north on the 15 towards Barstow. 
It's a hot day, the roof is down and we're doing 80-90 miles an hour. From memory the speed limit is 70, but EVERYONE is doing 80-90, and it works. People actually get out of the fast lane when they're just cruising. Take note Aussie pinhead drivers. 

We pull over at Victorville for a piss, water, and I get some beef jerky. Bloody love that stuff. We decide to put the roof up, coz driving all the way to Vegas with the top down would result in some serious sunburn. Air con on, we don't have to yell to talk to each other.. much better, for now. 

Next stop is Barstow. Now for those that have seen Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, you'll know that one of the lines in the movie is "We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold". Great movie, and it's weird when you visit the states and see things you've only seen in movies or read in books. 
Having said that, Barstow is pretty underwhelming. We stopped coz there's an in In-n-Out Burger there. Aaron had been barking at us that we have to go there, they do great burgers, and they're only in California. So we HAVE to have one. 
We pull in, eat, I but dad a T-shirt (way too big) for 9 bucks, we leave. 
Oh, by the way Fanta Pants, In-n-out Burger is now in Nevada, Utah, Arizona and Texas. Burger was ok, chips were pretty good. 

Aaron also suggested that we peel off the main drag and go via the Mojave National Preserve. Somewhere along here, someone needed to shit, maybe it was dad, anyway, we had to stop somewhere. That place was Newberry Springs. Not a terribly remarkable place. Although it is on Route 66, so we got to tick that off the list. Kicks were had. 
 We stop at a roadhouse, there's a sign out the front, like, not a sign from the shop, like a tourist sign. (it's below) Baghdad Cafe'. A roadhouse made famous by the movie Baghdad Cafe. No, I'd never heard of it. Yes, I'd recommend you stop there if you get the chance. There's crap everywhere. Tourists, mainly French (where the movie was popular), leave t shirts, undies, hats etc, signed, and pinned to the wall. (pics below).

We don't stay long, but it was a good sidetrack. 

The GPS on Fanta Pants phone tells us our turn is coming up, time for the Mojave. I didn't really know what to expect to be honest, cactus, rocks, not sure really. It's pretty amazing though. The scenery, do the drive if you get the chance, pretty cool. I'd do it again. 

Soon enough, we're back on the main highway and making tracks for Vegas, shit, I need fuel. Now, something you will discover when you do the drive from LA to Vegas is that it's not the first town over the border in to Nevada. There's a town called Primm, and you can see it from miles away as the sun goes down. Casinos shoot out of the ground everywhere, lights, themed joints advertising cheap food and cheap 'slots'.
Now, when I say that this is the first ton over the border, it's literally built onto the borderline. Nothing on the California side at all. 
We blow through there and head on to the next servo, pull into the Shell, go to fill up, stupid yank servos being pre paid, it's only 6:30pm! How the fuck am I supposed to do the math on gallons? BASTARDS. Fuck it, $20 will get us to sin city.
I walk in to pre pay, and I hear the sounds of pokies. That's right, inside the servo, there are people playing pokies. Fuck me this joint is mental. I'd been to Vegas before, but to be honest it was a complete blur.

It's getting close to 7pm as we roll into Las Vegas Blvd, the top is down on the Mustang, is a balmy night, we HAVE to do a lap of the strip before checking in. We cruise up and back, dads head spinning like a top. It's exactly as I remembered it from 8 years ago, save for a couple of new places.
I booked the accommodation, and I had planned on getting us a 2 bedroom apartment at New York New York Casino, but dad said "why, we're never gunna be in the room" so I changed it to the Excalibur, $37.50 a night per room. That's right, we slummed it. Dad was right, we were never in our rooms. Although a fridge to keep beers cool would have been nice. Still everything else was there..

Fanta Pants and I decide to get out there and get amongst it, dad says he's staying in, he's knackered. First night in Vegas ever, and he says he's staying in, 'tard.

We walk the strip, drink beers, people watch, get our bearings as to what we're gunna do. We end up at the piano bar in New York New York (should have fuckin stayed there in the end), a great place if you've never been, duelling pianos, crowd involvement, it's loud and fun. We happened to make it in there when a wedding party had arrived. All the blokes in kilts, I guess they must have been Spanish or something, anyway..
Two of the blokes in skirts were up there, one on the piano, one singing, and it was pretty obvious they've done this before. The crowd went nuts, they were great.

Drunk, late, we decide to call it a night. We'd had a HUGE day and I don't even know what time it was when we crashed. Not stupid o'clock, but not early.. maybe 1:30-2am?

When we wake up and catch up with dad, he tells us he went out coz he couldn't sleep. I have a feeling he wanted his own space, and I wouldn't be surprised if the old cunt dragged a renter. He's a dirty old bastard.

More later..

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