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At the risk of sounding un-American, I must confess that I had never been to Las Vegas before, nor had I any desire to go. Boy, did that change.
From the moment I entered The Strip — that Alice in Wonderland stretch of neon-lit architectural wonders, boasting 19 of the world’s largest hotels — I knew I’d be hard-pressed to choose between the myriad choices assaulting my senses.
With the long weekend just beginning, I walked into our hotel — the spectacular, red-infused Encore — and knew that my first choice was a winner. The incomparably mellow voice of Frank Sinatra greeted us, leading us to an impeccably appointed room and reminding us to be “Young at Heart.”
Sinatra would approve of these hotel choices also: the magnificent Bellagio, with its breathtaking day-to-night choreographed fountains; the all-suites, palatial Venetian, ranked No. 1 among Las Vegas hotels in Travel + Leisure’s Worlds Best Awards 2010; the very hip Cosmopolitan, with the most eclectic collection of shops in Vegas; and the Four Seasons, for unrivaled elegance within floors 35 to 39 of the famous Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino.
Sinatra-sanctioned restaurants would include: Picasso for French Mediterranean cuisine in a setting of original Pablo Picasso oils and ceramics; Charlie Palmer Steak for succulent, wood-grilled cuts in a clubby atmosphere; Little Buddha Restaurant-Sushi Bar inside Palms Resort; Bradley Ogden at Caesars Palace for farm-fresh American cuisine; Alize French restaurant, with the most dramatic view of The Strip; The Encore’s superb Bartolotta for fish so fresh it practically jumps onto your plate, accompanied by a crazily expensive bill.
We opted for Sinatra, a homage to “ole blue eyes,” also located at the Encore with life-size photos and ongoing Sinatra movies playing over the bar. Excellent choices here include lobster risotto and ossobuco “My Way” Rao’s, the quintessential Italian restaurant known for extraordinary pastas and for celebrating Christmas year-round; the Peppermill Restaurant & Fireside Lounge for breakfasts of 10-egg omelettes and Bloody Marys the size of Big Gulps, all served 24/7.
I’ve never seen such a wacky combination of fake flowering trees, sunken fire pits, waitresses in faux Hooters outfits and pink, purple and blue neon everywhere. You can order breakfast for dinner and dinner for breakfast. Convenient in this town, and I absolutely loved it.
The Eiffel Tower Restaurant on the 11th floor of the tower is great for lunch or dinner. A bit touristy, but what isn’t in Vegas? You’ll capture beautiful views of the Bellagio fountains across the street. Just pretend you’re in the real Paris.
You must wear comfortable shoes to walk The Strip. To circle The Strip is an eight-mile trek, but that doesn’t include the miles and miles of walking inside the hotels, in and around shops and up and across the footbridges. I wish I’d been wearing a pedometer. I’m sure we walked at least 12 miles in one day. Remember, drivers of cars are looking at the sights. Pedestrians are looking at the sights. Neither one is looking out for the other, so be very careful. Many people have been struck by cars while visiting Vegas.
Choosing among the countless shows is tough. We opted for Encore’s “Le Reve,” a spectacular water show. The extravaganza is so overwhelming that you have to remind yourself to focus on the unbelievable gymnastics and dance moves taking place all around you.
Cirque du Soleil’s “Mystère” at Treasure Island was equally dazzling, and you walk out simply shaking your head at how it’s all done. Piped in music — Sinatra again — reminds you of your biggest choice.
To the strains of “High Hopes” and “Luck Be a Lady,” you must decide: to gamble or not to gamble. Gaming tables and slot machines are everywhere — in the casinos, bars, dining area, sidewalks, guest rooms and bathrooms. With Big Brother watching and Sinatra humming “Fools Rush In” in my head, I fed $5 to the slot machine, got back a 25-cent profit and quit.
Remember, it’s a different Vegas today than back in 1956 when Sinatra recorded “Anything Goes.” Today, what happens in Vegas stays on Facebook.
— Judy Crowell is a Noozhawk contributing writer, author, freelance travel writer and part-time Santa Barbara resident. She can be reached at news@noozhawk.com. The opinions expressed are her own.