A shiny steel and glass heap of faux luxury, false promises, and flagrant imitation, Las Vegas represents the complete opposite of the natural beauty I've been trying to immerse myself in on this road trip. But I had a strange curiosity about just how bad this man-made monstrosity really is. It is awful.
I stayed at The Riviera. It's on the north end of The Strip, the hotel bejeweled spine of Sin City. The casino maze makes it impossible to find the elevators to your room. I think that's the point. The hotel's corridors smell of sweaty desperation constantly being sanitized. It is not a pleasant place.
After booking a room on Expedia, I found out The Riviera charges a mysterious $15 "resort fee." The check-in clerks are pros at dealing with the inevitable outcries. They had a highlighted, plastic-sheathed printout of what they purported to be the Expedia website showing the extra charge. I showed the clerk a screenshot from my phone failing to disclose the sneaky fee but to no avail.
Hiking down The Strip Saturday afternoon proved to be rather strenuous in the 117 degree heat. Of course, the casinos and shopping centers blast plenty of cold air as part of their multi-pronged efforts to engage hapless tourists. Other efforts involve everything from clowns to show girls to water fountains.
As awful as it is, Las Vegas does have some sublime people watching. Peering through the buzzing neon slot machines I saw lots of angry, degraded characters. Where did they come from? What brought them here? No one looked happy. Did they really think coming to Las Vegas would make them feel better?
The hotels' flashy attempts to copy Paris, Italy, New York, a circus, and a pirate ship (among other themes) are laughable when you think about it. They're trying to imitate the inimitable. And all in one place, and to outdo each other. I was glad to leave Sunday morning and head for somewhere real.
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