Leaving Las Vegas... and not for the last time

2008-11-19

I'm sure there is a good bit of Las Vegas. As I sit here at Newark Airport, half way home, I am racking my brains to think what it might be. The past couple of days I've had the delight to attend what turned out to be a rather enjoyable conference (really), and I've spoken with some great people and had a pretty good time. If only I could say that Las Vegas had anything to do with the more pleasurable parts of the trip, but I just can't.

It took me a while to realise what was wrong, then one morning, when I was out for a half hour jog, it dawned on me. I ran past a bunch of twenty-somethings standing outside a casino, and one of them laughed, heartily and out loud. I suddenly thought what a rare phenomenon that was - there's beaming smiles up on the hoardings, and lots of faux-bonhomie around the tables but genuine, friendly laughter is a rarity.

What is it about that place, that man-made rats nest of gaudy and overblown structures, that saps the soul? I genuinely don't know. But there is something unnatural about the whole place. One only has to traverse the length of the canal system in the Venetian, a place where it's never night and never day, to get an idea of this. When I first went, I decided that the canal system would give a pretty fair impression of what US hell would look like - a nothingness that somehow resembles familiar places and ideas, and which never, ever changes. I have since been told that the inside of the Excalibur would be the UK hell, but I haven't yet had that pleasure.

Oh boy, I can't wait to go back.