My brother and I spent the weekend in Las Vegas. Neither of us is richer for it (I’m a terrible gambler and my brother had terrible luck), but we had a fantastic time all the same.
What struck me most peculiar about this Venice, however, was the smell of bitter orange – the Venetian’s signature scent, if my olfactory nerves are still firing correctly. While I’ve never been to the actual Venice, I suspect it doesn’t smell at all like oranges, bitter or otherwise.
All the same, despite that cloying odour every time I entered the building, stepped into an elevator or washed my hair, I have no complaints about our stay.
Because we’re both foodies (which is a polite way of saying my brother and I really like to eat), we were both pretty excited about the seemingly-endless number of restaurants located at our hotel and its conjoined twin, The Palazzo. I particularly enjoyed our meals at Joachim Splichal‘s Pinot Brasserie and David Burke‘s eponymous joint. Both offered impeccable service and top-notch food, in the French and American traditions respectively.
The costumes, the artistry, the acrobatics, the music!
We were so blown away by the spectacle, we saw it a second time. It was that good.
Oh sure, we gambled, too. I mostly stuck to the penny slots – losing the complimentary credits afforded to me by the hotel in a record-setting time.
We also watched a lot of football. Which, I know, seems like a waste of time considering we were in Las Vegas. It was, however, the NFL’s divisional play-offs. (How were we to know three of the four games would be blow-outs and the fourth a surprising yet unsatisfying upset?) Moreover, there was something strangely exciting about watching sports in a city in which you could bet on every play, every point. (It was also a great excuse to sample a variety of American micro-brews; Fat Tire being my favourite.)
Sadly, we left a good many things on our to-see/do list come Sunday night, including a trip to the Hoover Dam. On the plus side, WestJet offers direct flights from Winnipeg, which means my brother and I will undoubtedly find ourselves back there soon enough to clear up some of that unfinished business – and likely catch Cirque’s Love for a third time.