Viva Las Vegas...
Where do I start....
Well I could talk about the third world problem of rounding up four adult children and their partners after the legal requirement of alcohol and shopping at Gatwick.
I could talk about the ten hour flight (nine and a half hours more than I usually tolerate) and the breakneck taxi ride to the hotel.
I could go on and on about the first sight of Las Vegas, with the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty vying for attention on the skyline.
But let's start with the heat. Having a daughter as a school teacher meant that we had to go to Vegas in August. Now I knew it would be warmer than home (let's face it, anywhere is warmer than here right now) but I wasn't prepared for the 45 degrees dry heat which slapped me round the face as I got off the plane. It was like standing in front of an open oven door when you're turning your roast potatoes (but without the oven gloves) and when the wind started a-blowing, it felt like you were in a hairdryer on the hottest, fastest speed known to man.
But we soon got used to flitting out of the heat and into the sub zero chill of the hotels. These are all works of art in their own right, with each one trying to outdo the other with gaudy spectacle and paraphernalia. I have to admit that when we first walked down the Strip, I was appalled at the sheer lunacy and pretence of the place. It has as much depth as a summer puddle and I spent the first twenty four hours shaking my head in bemusement.
But this is the thing about Vegas. It's actually rather honest, and doesn't even try to pretend to be something it isn't. Once I'd accepted that everything on show was to simply make me happy, I fell in love with the place, and will definitely go back at some point.
Talking of falling in love (see what I did there?) as you all know, the husband and I renewed our vows at The Graceland Chapel with Elvis officiating over the ceremony. Now if I'd had a choice, I might have gone for black leathered, 1969 comeback Elvis, but we had to settle for a white jump-suited, rhinestone version who, like the chapel, had seen better days. But what he lacked in looks, he more than made up for with his comedy and his singing, and the husband and I had the most wonderful time with him surrounded by our children and their partners.
It wasn't so much a holiday, but a complete experience, and so many happy memories have been made. I hope that it shows our children that however old you are, it's fine to admit to the world (and Elvis) that you are still as crazy in love as ever and that it's also acceptable to shimmy down the aisle with Elvis in a most outrageous fashion.
My ramblings don't really allow me to go on too long (don't want you nodding off mid read) so I hope that the pictures give you some idea as to how the week went.
It was pure magic...
Well I could talk about the third world problem of rounding up four adult children and their partners after the legal requirement of alcohol and shopping at Gatwick.
I could talk about the ten hour flight (nine and a half hours more than I usually tolerate) and the breakneck taxi ride to the hotel.
I could go on and on about the first sight of Las Vegas, with the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty vying for attention on the skyline.
But let's start with the heat. Having a daughter as a school teacher meant that we had to go to Vegas in August. Now I knew it would be warmer than home (let's face it, anywhere is warmer than here right now) but I wasn't prepared for the 45 degrees dry heat which slapped me round the face as I got off the plane. It was like standing in front of an open oven door when you're turning your roast potatoes (but without the oven gloves) and when the wind started a-blowing, it felt like you were in a hairdryer on the hottest, fastest speed known to man.
But we soon got used to flitting out of the heat and into the sub zero chill of the hotels. These are all works of art in their own right, with each one trying to outdo the other with gaudy spectacle and paraphernalia. I have to admit that when we first walked down the Strip, I was appalled at the sheer lunacy and pretence of the place. It has as much depth as a summer puddle and I spent the first twenty four hours shaking my head in bemusement.
But this is the thing about Vegas. It's actually rather honest, and doesn't even try to pretend to be something it isn't. Once I'd accepted that everything on show was to simply make me happy, I fell in love with the place, and will definitely go back at some point.
Talking of falling in love (see what I did there?) as you all know, the husband and I renewed our vows at The Graceland Chapel with Elvis officiating over the ceremony. Now if I'd had a choice, I might have gone for black leathered, 1969 comeback Elvis, but we had to settle for a white jump-suited, rhinestone version who, like the chapel, had seen better days. But what he lacked in looks, he more than made up for with his comedy and his singing, and the husband and I had the most wonderful time with him surrounded by our children and their partners.
It wasn't so much a holiday, but a complete experience, and so many happy memories have been made. I hope that it shows our children that however old you are, it's fine to admit to the world (and Elvis) that you are still as crazy in love as ever and that it's also acceptable to shimmy down the aisle with Elvis in a most outrageous fashion.
My ramblings don't really allow me to go on too long (don't want you nodding off mid read) so I hope that the pictures give you some idea as to how the week went.
It was pure magic...
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