The Vegas Experience: Cold Beer, Dirty Girls...

...and live mud-wrestling. Don'tcha think our hotel was made for us?? And that's before we'd even got to the bikini bull-riding. If you want a laugh, IMAGINE our faces when we arrived here. We were thinking Céline Dion, we got The Eagles' "Hotel California" - you remember that bit "You can check out but you can never leave" ? And that's just the guests - the place is staffed by the supporting cast of "Shaun of the Dead." Brrwwwoooga. But I digress. Yes, dear reader, Rhino75 is BACK!! First of all, thank you so much for all the lovely birthday messages, either blogged, mailed or texted. I love you guys and it made my day. Well, that and the $9.95 all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. No great revelation this, but Vegas is COMPLETELY bonkers. Hotels the size of small towns, tacky attractions by the truckload to lure the punters in, yet at the same time, it's like that movie "Westworld." What I mean by that is that the whole thing has no visible means of support. The place is spotless but you never see anyone cleaning it. The sheer quantity of food on offer - each hotel has at least four restaurants - is mind-boggling, but you never see any delivery trucks. The crime rate is supposed to be low yet you never see a cop. Spooky. The other weird thing - for us - is that the whole thing is designed to fulfill straight men's fantasies - I always suspected I would have a role in a straight man's fantasy some day :). No, what I mean is that there's not much on offer for the pink dollar apart from designer shopping, of which we did our fair share, Mamma Mia and Toni Braxton. That said, it was an EXCELLENT vacation, we had a fantastic time and laughed like drains from the moment we arrived until we got back to Gatwick. And as for the birthday build-up...watch this space for more pics and stories...

The Vegas Experience: Left Luggage

It's official, I am every travel company's worst nightmare. The very first post ever on this blog was about me missing a flight. Not to be outdone, my latest exploits stretched Eurostar customer service to breaking point but the good news is that they came through with flying colours. First of all, I turned up late for my train - with a non-exchangeable non-refundable ticket. Now I say late, but they've let me through later than that before, although 10 minutes before departure is probably cutting it a little fine. Anyway, they very kindly agreed to exchange my ticket at no extra cost. Of course, I get a little lecture, but I do my best wounded Rhino75 look (butch but vulnerable - patent pending) and all goes smoothly. Wonderful. So I check in again, go through passport control, customs, the baggage scans etc. Then - aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhh. I'm JUST about to go through and get on the train when I realise I've left the Barbra tickets at HOME. Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh. What a palaver. But they were troopers. Assured me that (other very stupid) people did this all the time. And took me back through immigration and exchanged my ticket for the second time in an hour in order to give me enough time to go home, pick up tickets while the taxi waited downstairs, and get back to the station. If that isn't service, I don't know what is. The good thing is that it happened on the leg when I was travelling alone. I know only too well from past experience that this kind of thing sends other people's stress levels through the roof, whereas I find it perfectly normal. Pray (I'm not joking!) that we make it to Gatwick on time tomorrow. Bons baisers de Londres.

Crossin' the Pond

Just a reminder that posting may be a little erratic over the next week as I shall be "crossing the pond" to star with Nick in our very own version of "Ocean's Two" This is an historic event for two reasons: Firstly, it's the first time we've gone on holiday together since we were 17. Secondly, on Saturday (my birthday!! - shameless plug) , we will be doing this. If I can remember where I put the tickets. The rest of the time has already been allotted to shopping and cocktails, though I am also on a mission to bet on a secret lucky number for Mr. & Mrs. LOG. Be good.

NOBODY is gonna rain on my parade...

...gottit? So... ('cos I know you've all been on tenterhooks ;D) WE'RE GOING!! Well, we've booked the tickets which is the most important part. And the concert is actually on my birthday, can you imagine?! I wonder if it will be like Flunch, with Barbra and the boys downing tools for a moment to come over with a very large cake for me? We can but hope. Anyway, as luck would have it, I'm going to be in London Monday and Tuesday for work, so Nick and I have decided a Barbra/Cocktails evening is definitely called for. My usual hotel is, however, fully booked, (do they not know who I AM? tsk!) so I'm staying here instead. It looks a little too "blue-rinse brigade" for my liking, but I am looking forward to the marble bathroom. Bon voyage to me!

Viva Las Vegas - Maybe

So, this week's harebrained scheme inspired plan is ... to go to Las Vegas on a gay pilgrimage to see Barbra in concert. As Nick so worryingly put it: "I can't think of anyone but you who might go with me." And you know, he's probably right. But then that's what high school chums are for, isn't it? It's not a done deal yet as we might not be able to get the right dates off work, but doesn't it sound fun? Of course, I've already started planning the itinerary. I really want to go here, if only to eat in the Sir Galahad restaurant and see the "Thunder from Down Under" strip show. Apparently, all the staff speak in cod medieval, and call you "My liege" and so on all the time. In the meantime, I'm going to start cultivating a "George Clooney in Ocean's Eleven" look - no mean feat, given the material I have to work with, but we're not going until November, thank goodness. I shall also be brushing up on my Babs repertoire. Altogether now: "Memories light the corners of my mind, misty watercolour memories of the way we were - Scattered pictures dada dee da dada dee etc." Of course, it could all go horribly wrong... Keep 'em crossed.