Las Vegas- Nov.28/07- Perfect!

We bounced out of bed quite early Wednesday morning, eager to begin our first full day. Had a bit of coffee, checked e-mail, and proceeded down to breakfast.

Lynora had planned our route/transportation already so we walked over to MGM Grand, bought a monorail day pass and rode to the Sahara, where we hopped in a cab for the last bit of the jaunt to the Las Vegas Premium Outlets outdoor mall for the early Christmas Canadian shopper consumerism extravaganza. (Mostly Len, she's kind of terrifying when she's looking for deals.)

Best part was being accosted by an initially pleasant Israeli skin care product vendor, who did a Dead Sea salt scrub demo on me at the outdoor kiosk while Lynora was spending money somewhere. By the time she came out to meet me, once-charming salesman was glaring at my feet, brutally exposed by Capri pants and Birkenstocks, and telling me how much help they needed. "But I come from a place that has a real winter" was my only defense. Well that, and the fact that I really don't care how crusty my feet are, as long as they don't hurt. He then proceeded to apply some miracle rejuvenating facelift product on my inner arm, which promptly broke into a rash, and then argued that it couldn't be a rash because the product was hypo-allergenic. He also made some not-so-flattering remarks about by facial pores, which I rebutted by exclaiming "I'm turning forty! I'm still OK..." We started to try and get away, but he kept dropping his prices ("Just for you ladies! For today only!") until Lynora broke down and purchased me a salt scrub and some milk & honey body butter. I think she considered it payment for release. God, it was funny.

Spent a couple of hours there, got a lot of Christmas shopping done- for the kids (The Children's Place, Carter's) the spouses (Eddie Bauer, Banana Republic), and the parents (Van Heusen's).

Heavily laden with our spoils, we took a cab back to the hotel. Our dinner reservation was at 5:15, so we changed and preened, and went to the "Bar at Times Square" for a (really) quick beer. An aside- quite impressive, the variety of good offerings on tap in LV. At Times Square, Pilsner Urquell, the aforementioned Dos Equis at Gonzalez y Gonzalez, even Spaten Hefeweizen at a kiosk at MGM Grand. Anyhow, we guzzled up some Czech goodness before hopping back on the monorail to head to Treasure Island and the Venetian.

Splitting up in the interests of time management, Len ran to TI to pick up the show tickets, and I navigated my way through the casinos at the Venetian to find Bouchon. I waited at the bar for her, and was advised to try a Chimay draught- Wow. Wicked good job, Belgian monks. When Lynora breathlessly rushed in, the helpful bartender suggested a (1614?1645?)- something dark and stout-y looking which tasted deceptively lighter.

Once seated, we perused the menu after Len ordered the red wine- she had a complex justification protocol which escapes me at the moment (clarify in the comments if you can!) She was close to having the chicken again (she went with Mike last November), but we both ended up going with chalkboard specials. For her - butcher's cut of beef with mashed potatoes and seasonal veg. (sounds humble, doesn't it?) I chose the scallops with toasted barley, butternut squash and Swiss chard- I tell you, the memory of that first taste will stay with me forever. It brought tears to my eyes, it was that perfect. The scallops were crispy, tender, flavourful without excessive seasoning, and the barley, squash and greens were the ideal accompaniment. Once the initial shock had worn off, we exchanged tastes. Lynora's beef was melt-in-your-mouth, the potatoes simple and mousse-like. The most memorable meal I've ever had. We shared profiteroles for dessert, wolfing them down as we realized we were running a bit late.

Tore across the street to Treasure Island and the Mystere theatre. The show had just started as an usher guided us to our seats, close to the stage on the right side. We totally lost ourselves in the spectacle.



What a fantastic show. The bungee trapeze artists dove within eight feet of our heads. Breathtaking.

Hard to come down from supper and Cirque. On the way out of the theatre, we were handed free drink coupons for Kahunaville, a "I can't believe I'm in this kind of place" tacky tropical bar. There was a laughably stereotypic "flair bartender" show- in a cringe-worthy Tom Cruise circa 1988 sort of way. But you have to admit, there is some skill involved in those manipulations. Our drinks were of the slurpee-machine variety, Len handed me the Pina Colada, keeping the strawberry daquiri for herself, smart girl. They were both eye-crossingly sweet and I blame them for how I felt Wednesday (not the beers which came later.) We weaved through TI and made our way over to Bellagio. The decor was dazzling.

Glass floral ceilings

Gently glowing (the tree too)

More Christmas splendour

Chocolate fountain at Jean-Philippe Patisserie. Lynora was highly disturbed not knowing the downstream applications of said chocolate. I'm sure it's not wasted, honey.

Making our way back to the monorail, we caught a fountain show choreographed to "It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas" and stood on the sidewalk with goofy little grins on our faces, as jaded passersby totally ignored the fun and pushed past us. Cretins.

So we did manage to get back to our hotel, and back to Times Square, as we promised the bartenders earlier, for more Pilsners. The place was packed and as the piano players were starting to "duel", we found seats along the outside of the bar and listened in. The guys beside us engaged my sister in conversation, bought us a few drinks, and left, so we took our beers, skirted the entrance line-up and wormed our way to the crowd at the pianos. Strangely, a bunch of stagette-party girls from Alberta(!) were the major disturbers in attendance. Sadly, the piano guys used that as an excuse to play a charming version of a totally non-compelling Paul Brandt song. Please don't ask me which one.

In the thick of the crowd, we (ie. Len) engaged a few more men people in conversation, the upshot of which was that we didn't pay for a single drink the entire time we were there. And we were there late. The piano guys were great, classic sing-alongs I remember them doing included "Back in Black"(funny), "Sweet Child of Mine"(funnier) and something by Elton John (probably) and some Beatles (but that may be a fanciful recollection.) Again, Len- a little help in the comments may clear the picture.