America: Tucson, AZ and Las Vegas, NV
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
So this is a story of Spring Break unlike any I've ever taken. I once took a Spring Break road trip out this way, also with a guy and a girl (Nick and Sarah). We visited six states and, in addition to visiting Las Vegas, went snow skiing, rented a wave runner, and visited Bryce Canyon, Zion and Capitol Reef National Parks. The difference between that event-packed one and this one was alcohol. You don't do much during the day when you've been drinking all night and so this is the first trip I've ever taken where the bulk of it was spent lying around a hotel. Still, despite how chill the trip was, it did have one very, very notable story, which will be in the next blog. Normally what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but not this time. But until then, here's the rest:
I flew into Tucson, where my cousin Miguel lives. He was working, so I was picked up from the airport by Amanda, who served in Peace Corps with me and now works on a horse ranch there. She picked me up in a pick-up truck while wearing a cowboy hat. I borrowed said hat. And when we went hiking in the Tucson foothills that day, she took this picture that I call "Cacti and the Cuban Cowboy"
Obligatory silloutte shot. Someone hurry up and put me in a cigarette ad!
Amanda contemplating the cacti of the world. Do they know that they so hurt?
The next day I presented at an OASIS conference and talked about the Holocaust and antisemitism in Ukraine. I was introduced by Carol Garrard, co-author of the Bones of Berdichev, whom I later interviewed on camera for my in-progress (amateur) documentary on this topic. This was the piece of paper outside the room.
Presenting. Apparently I talk with my hands a lot.
Miguel and Amanda getting their respective grooves on at a Tucson salsa club that night.
The next day we hopped into Miguel's car to drive 8 hours through the desert to Las Vegas. Somehow Amanda got out of driving. We're still not sure how that happened.
A little bit of mid-trip craziness. Yes, I did put a quarter in that thing.
Crossing the Hoover Dam into Nevada
Vegas, baby! The MGM Grand Hotel
The New York New York hotel. Yes, that is a hotel.
The Ballys and Paris hotels seen through the famous fountains of the Bellagio
The Coyote Ugly bar. We didn't realize how upscale the clubs on the Las Vegas strip were, and it was was the only one that would let us in wearing sneakers. But it had women dancing on the bar, so we didn't mind.
Miguel and I the next night, having dropped $100 each at a Ross to meet Vegas standards. Estillo Cubano!
We so lucked out: next door to our hotel was a Cuban restaurant with great food and better mojitos. We ate there literally every day.
The greatest painting in existance. Picasso, eat your heart out.
We took a break from the partying to head out to Red Rocks with two British guys we met at the Las Vegas Hostel. This is Amanda on the rocks.
Miguel trying a route. He has vowed never to climb rocks again.
Me setting a route. This is not fun to do with a hangover.
We are men. Men is what we are.
The Pussycat Dolls section of Ceasar's Palace. Yes, I did stare. I didn't gamble much: I was $40 up at one point and $20 down at another but, like always, I broke even.
Amanda, me and Miguel with a group we met at the Las Vegas Hostel, going out on our last night in Vegas
Amanda getting a whole lot of man loving...
This is Deonna. She is a prostitute. How do I know? Because after two dances she invited me to her room. Then she explained that this would be paid for. I declined and we kept dancing.
On the way back to Tucson, a tanker overturned, spilling caustic chemicals on I-10. We sat in this traffic jam for three hours. In addition to Amanda reading us excerpts from a romance novel and giving us quizes from a Cosmo, Miguel and I watched Dane Cook on my iPod. It was still a very long three hours.
The next day and my last of the trip. Before my flight, Amanda and I took a afternoon hike up Mt. Lemmon.
I need to walk around with a lighting kit giving me these exact shadows. For once in my life, my skinny self looks buff! Or maybe I'm just getting fat. Must be all the fast food I ate...
Fun trip
I flew into Tucson, where my cousin Miguel lives. He was working, so I was picked up from the airport by Amanda, who served in Peace Corps with me and now works on a horse ranch there. She picked me up in a pick-up truck while wearing a cowboy hat. I borrowed said hat. And when we went hiking in the Tucson foothills that day, she took this picture that I call "Cacti and the Cuban Cowboy"
Obligatory silloutte shot. Someone hurry up and put me in a cigarette ad!
Amanda contemplating the cacti of the world. Do they know that they so hurt?
The next day I presented at an OASIS conference and talked about the Holocaust and antisemitism in Ukraine. I was introduced by Carol Garrard, co-author of the Bones of Berdichev, whom I later interviewed on camera for my in-progress (amateur) documentary on this topic. This was the piece of paper outside the room.
Presenting. Apparently I talk with my hands a lot.
Miguel and Amanda getting their respective grooves on at a Tucson salsa club that night.
The next day we hopped into Miguel's car to drive 8 hours through the desert to Las Vegas. Somehow Amanda got out of driving. We're still not sure how that happened.
A little bit of mid-trip craziness. Yes, I did put a quarter in that thing.
Crossing the Hoover Dam into Nevada
Vegas, baby! The MGM Grand Hotel
The New York New York hotel. Yes, that is a hotel.
The Ballys and Paris hotels seen through the famous fountains of the Bellagio
The Coyote Ugly bar. We didn't realize how upscale the clubs on the Las Vegas strip were, and it was was the only one that would let us in wearing sneakers. But it had women dancing on the bar, so we didn't mind.
Miguel and I the next night, having dropped $100 each at a Ross to meet Vegas standards. Estillo Cubano!
We so lucked out: next door to our hotel was a Cuban restaurant with great food and better mojitos. We ate there literally every day.
The greatest painting in existance. Picasso, eat your heart out.
We took a break from the partying to head out to Red Rocks with two British guys we met at the Las Vegas Hostel. This is Amanda on the rocks.
Miguel trying a route. He has vowed never to climb rocks again.
Me setting a route. This is not fun to do with a hangover.
We are men. Men is what we are.
The Pussycat Dolls section of Ceasar's Palace. Yes, I did stare. I didn't gamble much: I was $40 up at one point and $20 down at another but, like always, I broke even.
Amanda, me and Miguel with a group we met at the Las Vegas Hostel, going out on our last night in Vegas
Amanda getting a whole lot of man loving...
This is Deonna. She is a prostitute. How do I know? Because after two dances she invited me to her room. Then she explained that this would be paid for. I declined and we kept dancing.
On the way back to Tucson, a tanker overturned, spilling caustic chemicals on I-10. We sat in this traffic jam for three hours. In addition to Amanda reading us excerpts from a romance novel and giving us quizes from a Cosmo, Miguel and I watched Dane Cook on my iPod. It was still a very long three hours.
The next day and my last of the trip. Before my flight, Amanda and I took a afternoon hike up Mt. Lemmon.
I need to walk around with a lighting kit giving me these exact shadows. For once in my life, my skinny self looks buff! Or maybe I'm just getting fat. Must be all the fast food I ate...
Fun trip
posted by Daniel Reynolds Riveiro at 7:58 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home