Here's the Treasure Island Hotel and Casino. Every night there is a pirate-ship battle out front.
And, oh, yes, there's a lot of heat in Las Vegas. Las Vegas exists on heat. There's sexy ladies wearing just a few feathers and a bit of glitter, and sexy men who are probably wearing the same but I never went to any of the male stripper shows so I don't know how they dress ... or undress. I did go to "Showstoppers" at the Wynn Casino, and I really loved this show. It's how I imagined Las Vegas would be. Show girls and boys, big stage presence, full orchestra, headdresses, feathers, high-heels, lots of singing and dancing, and tunes from Broadway musicals.
However, it's the real Las Vegas heat that I'm talking about. On two of the days I was there, the temperature on the LV Strip reached 110F, one degree less then the all-time heat record. We were warned, via the tv each morning, that seniors must not venture outside, that there were 'cooling stations' and 'drop in' points for cold drinks and air conditioning. The desert fire that had taken out lots of houses the previous week was still burning.
In Vegas, the August heat is so bad that you can't walk more than say two minutes without wishing to be at the South Pole, or sitting on a giant block of ice. It's better to nip in one door of an air-conditioned casino and out the other all the way along The Strip. For those few minutes when you're riding an outdoor escalator or crossing a street bridge, just put up with the heat and don't buy a dollar bottle of water from the bridge vendors; the bottles were found in the trash and filled with tap water.
My visit to the hundred-burro one street town of Oatman was on one of the 110F days. Oatman is right slap-bang-dab in the middle of the desert. The temp inside an Oatman shop, in the shade, read at 114F (45c in kiwi language).
Our tour van had arrived in Oatman a few minutes before noon and we parked in a carpark below the main street. . I was all a-tingle to see the promised 1.15pm gunfight.. I was drenched in sweat within one minute of getting out of the van; I didn't know how long my body could take such heat.
I heard some gunshots and a lot of yelling.
"They must be practising for the gunfight," someone said.
So.... I ate my picnic lunch, got bit by a burro, and all but expired under the sun. .
At 1 pm, our guide admitted he had his timing wrong. The shootout had been at noon, and the next fight wouldn't be until 2.15pm.
Another hour to hang around in that 114 degree heat? None of us could take it, we all put up our hands voting to leave. What a disappointment but, oh, such heaven to be in the air-conditioned van!
When I got back to Vegas, dripping in sweat, I called in to Serendipity3 and had the biggest ice cream sundae I could find on the menu:
But I truly wanted to see a cowboy gunfight....
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Below: temperature clock outside a general store in the El Dorado mine area.
ps: tomorrow i'll tell you the sad tale (tail, hehehe) about my Maverick Morning Horseback Ride. Same bat blog, same bat temperature.
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