Vegas: 1st attempt.

Settled into our unprecedented two hotel rooms (no roll-away bed or flea-infested mattress for one of us tonight, no sir. Tonight we was kickin' it floral-print style), we put on our least crumpled T-shirts and ventured out into downtown Vegas. The centre of downtown was Fremont Street, covered by a canopy running its full length, and into which was built one long, continuous video display. Every now and again the display would light up playing a custom made show/advert, and the mostly retired-looking crowd would stop walking as one and gaze up at the spectacle. The cynic in me thought it'd be a good opportunity for pickpockets, and I was consciously wary of the few shady characters milling around on the periphery of the throng.

We walked up and down the street in the still baking 37°C heat, soaking up the atmosphere and recycling it into sweat. We were hungry after the drive from Flagstaff, and looked for restaurants as we went. Eventually it became apparent that pretty much all of the usual establishments you'd expect in a tourist town - restaurants, coffee shops, gift shops, hotels - were reached through an associated casino. Sometimes there are signs to them inside the casinos, and sometimes the signs are even helpful.

We ate in the first place we came across after the desperation took hold and then set off to have a look at the Strip by foot. The shuttle bus covering the two mile distance between downtown and the Strip was full, so we decided to walk.

Bad idea.

By the time we reached the Strip, having walked edgily down two miles of slightly seedy wedding chapel-lined boulevard, we were hollow-eyed with fatigue because of the heat. We ducked into the first casino we saw and found a bar at the back of it.

(The inside of the casinos that you have to navigate to find bars, restaurants or whatever are overpowering places, with slot machines blinking, muzak playing and people filling every nook and cranny. Unsurprisingly, the one notionally upmarket casino we went to - the Palms - was the least ostentatious and glittery, presumably because they make their money from 'real' games like blackjack and poker as opposed to slot machines. But more on the Palms later.)

On a stage by the bar, a Philippino band regaled an audience of aging regulars with disco covers. We ordered a round of beers for an eye-watering $17, drank them and got out. The night was still stifling, and after making it a further half mile along the Strip, we gave up and caught the bus back.

We had the next day planned out in advance. Surely this time Vegas would obligingly rock for us.