skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Utah Trip 1: May15-19: Vegas Ain't Pretty
At last, we're launched on our maiden voyage in Albatross. Did not make our 6:00 am target for avoiding LA cross-town traffic, but we managed to traverse I-10 from the ocean to the I-15 in pretty decent time, considering it was rush-hour. Our 14-year-old, never-out-of-the-house cat, was a yowling mess until Barstow, a mewling irritant to Baker, and passed out until we got to Vegas.
This wouldn't normally be high (or even on) our vacation destination list, but Loni had her CBBS (California Blood Bank Society) convention there, so we were committed for 4 nights (arrive Tues, depart Sat.). It was at the Rio, so we had to be close to the Strip/public transportation as we have no toad to get around in. The only option we found was the KOA, formerly the Caesar's RV park. Asphalt Jungle is not just the name of a movie. You know how they give air temperatures and track temps if you're watching a car race? Camping on a parking lot is much the same. Had E&W, but no sewer. Plugged in and turned on the AC. Ahhh. Headed off to the Rio for the reception wine & cheese. Took the "Trolly." Advice: don't. It stops at every casino and . . . sits. It took over an hour to cover the three miles or so and, well golly, that promo brochure for the Trolly was wrong. They don't go to the Rio after all. We hoof it the last mile (did I say it was 98 degrees?). Wine and cheese turned out to be our dinner, which is not a good thing. Trip back was 1 mile of shuttle, 2 miles of walking. Nope, it wasn't any cooler at night. Not a good start. WEDNESDAY: We ballet in & out of the rig's bathroom and off to the Rio (on the local bus this time, called "the Deuce," since they are double deckers) for a freebie breakfast. Deuce time: 50 minutes. At least it's air conditioned. B'fast not worth the trip: muffins & yoghurt. Loni to meetings, me to wander the strip back to the rig. The KOA does have a pool, but it seems you need a passport--not USA-- to partake. The entire poolside that had any shade was taken by German tourists. Our not-so-scientific survey over the course of our trip determined that at least half of the rented RV's on the road were manned by German tourists. They were everywhere! I will say they were unfailingly friendly and upbeat. The exchange rate will do that. Quick plunge, change clothes, and back to the Rio for the first serious freebie-- dinner hosted by Hemacare. Now we're talking: salmon-en-crout and, why yes, I WILL have another glass of wine thankyou. We feel no pain on the shuttle and the Deuce going home. Ah, yes, the Albatross is now "home," with resident housecat and all. THURSDAY: Again, we Nijinsky the facilities, Loni takes advantage of the shore power to dry her hair, and off to the Rio for, hopefully, a better breakfast. Ahhh, now this is freeloading: full British-style breakfast with more choices than a Turkish bazaar. I'm set until dinner. Loni to meetings, and I return to the rig and find . . . . no AC and a hair-noodle on the floor. Oh, that's the cat! Nothing but HOT coming out of the roof air. This is not good in the asphalt jungle.
Tried everything I or the owner's manual could suggest (check fuses, switch to generator, etc. etc.). No joy. Dragon breath. Called Lazy Daze (sorry, but . . . they don't make the thing), Dometic (they make it but only offer recorded phone trees with lists of repair facilities) and seven of the authorized repair places. No one can take us for at least a week, and then they'd have to order parts, get warranty repair authorization, etc. We, of course, have take-it-or-forget-it reservations in Zion and elsewhere, and have to get moving on Saturday. My personal temperature now is not entirely due to the ambient temp. We're just going to have to gut it out and get it fixed AFTER our trip. Good thing I didn't reach a real person at Dometic. Revived the cat with wet washcloths (THAT went over well), turned on the ceiling exhaust fans (moving 101 degree air at least feels better than still 101 degree air) and determined that the cat most likely wouldn't die. Well, actually, I said "you're on your own, cat," and left for the Bellagio where tonight's freeloading would take place, this time hosted by the Red Cross. Very nice restaurant overlooking the big faux-lake where the water and light show goes off every hour or so. Ahhh, more salmon, cooked perfectly, and, well, sure, just keep that wine coming thanks. They even dragged out the chef so we could toast him, and deservedly. A few (or so) glasses later, backdropped by the eau et lumiere outside the window, and we floated home on the Deuce. Cat still with us. What a trooper. Sleep was nearly impossible. I haven't been that hot at night since I was in the Philippines during my Navy days. It did get down to 80 degrees just before dawn. FRIDAY: Kept the cat watered while Loni finished her half-day at the meeting. Not willing to forfeit tonight's KOA fee, we don't leave early, but spend the afternoon in a cool theatre (sorry, cat) watching SpyderMan make an ass of himself. Did you detect that we don't gamble? Back outside, it continues to bake and the weekend traffic is arriving, making an already clogged Strip virtually impossible to travel on. We check on the cat and decide to use a gift certificate we had to the Cheesecake Factory. It was located at Caesar's Forum, a high-end shopping trap. The CF was at the very end of the long shopping mall, where we had to wait a half-hour for a table. Spent it watching the talking statues (utterly incomprehensible) and cruising the adjacent gallery, devoted to the "art" of one man. Think of a cross between Thomas Kincaid and Mexican velvet paintings and you get the idea. The prices were equally incomprehensible. Do people actually buy this stuff? After narrowly avoiding a brawl at the hostess station (somebody thought somebody else was jumping the line, so he decked the other guy's girlfriend!), we got our table, ate a dinner that would feed six people, and still had the guts (literally and figuratively) for key-lime cheesecake. Urp. Last ride on the Deuce back to the rig. Good-bye Vegas, we won't be back soon. NEXT: Zion! Are we camping yet?
This wouldn't normally be high (or even on) our vacation destination list, but Loni had her CBBS (California Blood Bank Society) convention there, so we were committed for 4 nights (arrive Tues, depart Sat.). It was at the Rio, so we had to be close to the Strip/public transportation as we have no toad to get around in. The only option we found was the KOA, formerly the Caesar's RV park. Asphalt Jungle is not just the name of a movie. You know how they give air temperatures and track temps if you're watching a car race? Camping on a parking lot is much the same. Had E&W, but no sewer. Plugged in and turned on the AC. Ahhh. Headed off to the Rio for the reception wine & cheese. Took the "Trolly." Advice: don't. It stops at every casino and . . . sits. It took over an hour to cover the three miles or so and, well golly, that promo brochure for the Trolly was wrong. They don't go to the Rio after all. We hoof it the last mile (did I say it was 98 degrees?). Wine and cheese turned out to be our dinner, which is not a good thing. Trip back was 1 mile of shuttle, 2 miles of walking. Nope, it wasn't any cooler at night. Not a good start. WEDNESDAY: We ballet in & out of the rig's bathroom and off to the Rio (on the local bus this time, called "the Deuce," since they are double deckers) for a freebie breakfast. Deuce time: 50 minutes. At least it's air conditioned. B'fast not worth the trip: muffins & yoghurt. Loni to meetings, me to wander the strip back to the rig. The KOA does have a pool, but it seems you need a passport--not USA-- to partake. The entire poolside that had any shade was taken by German tourists. Our not-so-scientific survey over the course of our trip determined that at least half of the rented RV's on the road were manned by German tourists. They were everywhere! I will say they were unfailingly friendly and upbeat. The exchange rate will do that. Quick plunge, change clothes, and back to the Rio for the first serious freebie-- dinner hosted by Hemacare. Now we're talking: salmon-en-crout and, why yes, I WILL have another glass of wine thankyou. We feel no pain on the shuttle and the Deuce going home. Ah, yes, the Albatross is now "home," with resident housecat and all. THURSDAY: Again, we Nijinsky the facilities, Loni takes advantage of the shore power to dry her hair, and off to the Rio for, hopefully, a better breakfast. Ahhh, now this is freeloading: full British-style breakfast with more choices than a Turkish bazaar. I'm set until dinner. Loni to meetings, and I return to the rig and find . . . . no AC and a hair-noodle on the floor. Oh, that's the cat! Nothing but HOT coming out of the roof air. This is not good in the asphalt jungle.
Tried everything I or the owner's manual could suggest (check fuses, switch to generator, etc. etc.). No joy. Dragon breath. Called Lazy Daze (sorry, but . . . they don't make the thing), Dometic (they make it but only offer recorded phone trees with lists of repair facilities) and seven of the authorized repair places. No one can take us for at least a week, and then they'd have to order parts, get warranty repair authorization, etc. We, of course, have take-it-or-forget-it reservations in Zion and elsewhere, and have to get moving on Saturday. My personal temperature now is not entirely due to the ambient temp. We're just going to have to gut it out and get it fixed AFTER our trip. Good thing I didn't reach a real person at Dometic. Revived the cat with wet washcloths (THAT went over well), turned on the ceiling exhaust fans (moving 101 degree air at least feels better than still 101 degree air) and determined that the cat most likely wouldn't die. Well, actually, I said "you're on your own, cat," and left for the Bellagio where tonight's freeloading would take place, this time hosted by the Red Cross. Very nice restaurant overlooking the big faux-lake where the water and light show goes off every hour or so. Ahhh, more salmon, cooked perfectly, and, well, sure, just keep that wine coming thanks. They even dragged out the chef so we could toast him, and deservedly. A few (or so) glasses later, backdropped by the eau et lumiere outside the window, and we floated home on the Deuce. Cat still with us. What a trooper. Sleep was nearly impossible. I haven't been that hot at night since I was in the Philippines during my Navy days. It did get down to 80 degrees just before dawn. FRIDAY: Kept the cat watered while Loni finished her half-day at the meeting. Not willing to forfeit tonight's KOA fee, we don't leave early, but spend the afternoon in a cool theatre (sorry, cat) watching SpyderMan make an ass of himself. Did you detect that we don't gamble? Back outside, it continues to bake and the weekend traffic is arriving, making an already clogged Strip virtually impossible to travel on. We check on the cat and decide to use a gift certificate we had to the Cheesecake Factory. It was located at Caesar's Forum, a high-end shopping trap. The CF was at the very end of the long shopping mall, where we had to wait a half-hour for a table. Spent it watching the talking statues (utterly incomprehensible) and cruising the adjacent gallery, devoted to the "art" of one man. Think of a cross between Thomas Kincaid and Mexican velvet paintings and you get the idea. The prices were equally incomprehensible. Do people actually buy this stuff? After narrowly avoiding a brawl at the hostess station (somebody thought somebody else was jumping the line, so he decked the other guy's girlfriend!), we got our table, ate a dinner that would feed six people, and still had the guts (literally and figuratively) for key-lime cheesecake. Urp. Last ride on the Deuce back to the rig. Good-bye Vegas, we won't be back soon. NEXT: Zion! Are we camping yet?
No comments:
Post a Comment