Wow, what a town! We spent an hour by the pool at our hotel and there was lots of flesh. I mean a stupendous amount of flesh, acres of it, pouring over the top of elasticated shorts, bursting out of both sides of bikini tops, cellulite everywhere we looked. And the owners of the flesh all seemed to be eating ice cream while recovering from their exertions in the pool (or perhaps their exertions in raising their arms to ask for ice cream!).
In the evening, we walked to the Hilton, where Elvis had been in residence for eight years, and caught the monorail downtown and looked at what seemed like hundreds of cranes building a whole new city. The monorail was the highlight of the trip so far for Sam, almost as good as the silly string. We got off at the MGM Grand, where we had dinner in the Rainforest Cafe. The cafe was completely covered in rainforest themes, models of gorillas, lions, butterflies, and snakes, and large tanks full of colorful tropical fish. Although the cafe is completely enclosed on the ground floor of the hotel next to the gaming tables, we could reach out and feel a fine rain falling around the perimeter of the cafe throughout dinner, and every twenty minutes there was a thunderstorm! The MGM Grand is as big as a shopping centre and there are slot machines, gaming tables, and restaurants all over it. We walked back up the strip through crowds of people. Every ten yards or so we passed men in luminous t-shirts that advertized "girls direct to your room in 20 minutes." Very handy if there are three of you and you want to play bridge, I suppose. We caught a taxi back to Circus Circus and on the way cab driver told me exactly what happened to Jimmy Hoffa. We got up early the next morning to head off to Death Valley While Rachel and the kids were getting to the car, I went to check out in the lobby and shared an elevator with a rather tired-looking girl who was probably looking forward to a good day's sleep. I suppose it must have been a hard night's work.
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