On route to the capital of sin, we made a few obligatory stops - at the Hoover Dam (very Art Deco retro) and the 'Welcome to Las Vegas' sign (again very retro).We also made a stop at a huge truckers stop where the diner just looked too enticing to pass by.It really was a jukebox-going-silent moment when we walked in with all eyes on us as we sat down amongst the bearded men.When we asked for a couple of menus, the waitress made her way back to the other staff whispering to them whether someone else could serve us, but helpfully indicating that "it's ok, they can speak English".

Well at least we didn't stand out like a sore thumb in Vegas.We'd timed it to be there at the same time as Jo and Andy who were on holiday and was great to share our gambling losses with someone else!Did the obligatory walk up and down The Strip, spent waay too much on old school fruit machines, got interviewed and projected up onto the world's biggest TV screen in retro Fremont Street, scared the bejesus out of ourselves on fairground rides on the roof of an 1,000 ft building, went to see a magic show and generally just had a debauched time.The problem with Vegas though is that it's a bit claustrophobic and Groundhog Day like - you wake up and the blue rinse ladies are already at the slots, you eat junk at the onsite restaurant, scorch yourself in the heat by the pool, go to a casino in the evening and sit alongside the blue rinse ladies, crash to bed at whatever time in the morning only to repeat the same a few hours later.So after a few days, we were ready to move on.