Day 16, Going to Williams
Checking out is very easy in Las Vegas; you turn on the television, go to a menu, select check out and you’re done. Not much left to do here but indulge in the all-you-can-eat breakfast for $9. Real interesting if you see the restaurant’s standard seats are half a meter wide. Take a look around and no explanation is needed. I have never laid eyes on so much excessive fat. This is feeder paradise! Huge battleships of people stuffing their faces with fine foods. Like real gentlemen do, we took a glass of orange juice and some fruit and jogged elegantly to the car.
We didn’t have a map of the area, since we are no longer in California, but in Nevada. So we just drove to the Hoover dam, ugly piece of concrete with some dead workers in it, too much protection around it. What a lousy way to enter Nevada. The road after the dam is nothing you would ever find in Europe: think of a straight asphalt road hundreds of miles long, make it straighter. No! Ever straighter, double the length and you still don’t have a clue. Forget about it. With a tank full of gas, cruise set to 140 km/h and the stereo blasting sixties songs, we were leaving a town full of sinners behind us a quick as possible.
A quick stop in the charming living hippie ghost town ‘Chloride’ provides us with cold drinks and a map. Next stop: Williams, an old town along historic route 66. Only an hour from the grand canyon. This is as far east as we will get. The town was packed with people! Today is rodeo day, so nearly all but the shabby motels have no vacancies. We could take a room with three queen beds, but it would be too big and too expensive. Luckily the Route 66 Motel -creative name- had a cheap clean room with two queen beds. We dumped our car and suitcases and walked around the town. It is full of indian trading stores, we have entered many of those already, frantically searching for gifts. But no luck until now. We will continue our quest, not to return from the promised land empty handed. It will be a fierce struggle, but we will not succumb. Seriously, try and act happy with crappy or no gifts when we get back. Is a route 66 mug okay? As part of the rodeo festival, we watched real cowboy gunfight on the central street. Fun for kids. And me.
Our dinner consisted of two cans of beans and pasta. My pasta had a nice pull away cover, Bart needed a can opener for his beans. The motel’s front desk provided us with one. We have no clue how to use it. After fifteen minutes, Bart managed to torture the little can to such an extent it had enough holes to get the food out. We spent the rest of our evening drinking Tequila and Johnnie Walker Green Label with another local motel owner and a texan, and visiting a redneck party. Because of the rodeo, live bands play everywhere in town. It was great fun to be there. The ‘dress code’ was jeans, large belt, blocked shirt and cowboy hat. Not something one would encounter in The Netherlands. On tomorrow’s agenda is the rodeo and the Grand Canyon.
We didn’t have a map of the area, since we are no longer in California, but in Nevada. So we just drove to the Hoover dam, ugly piece of concrete with some dead workers in it, too much protection around it. What a lousy way to enter Nevada. The road after the dam is nothing you would ever find in Europe: think of a straight asphalt road hundreds of miles long, make it straighter. No! Ever straighter, double the length and you still don’t have a clue. Forget about it. With a tank full of gas, cruise set to 140 km/h and the stereo blasting sixties songs, we were leaving a town full of sinners behind us a quick as possible.
A quick stop in the charming living hippie ghost town ‘Chloride’ provides us with cold drinks and a map. Next stop: Williams, an old town along historic route 66. Only an hour from the grand canyon. This is as far east as we will get. The town was packed with people! Today is rodeo day, so nearly all but the shabby motels have no vacancies. We could take a room with three queen beds, but it would be too big and too expensive. Luckily the Route 66 Motel -creative name- had a cheap clean room with two queen beds. We dumped our car and suitcases and walked around the town. It is full of indian trading stores, we have entered many of those already, frantically searching for gifts. But no luck until now. We will continue our quest, not to return from the promised land empty handed. It will be a fierce struggle, but we will not succumb. Seriously, try and act happy with crappy or no gifts when we get back. Is a route 66 mug okay? As part of the rodeo festival, we watched real cowboy gunfight on the central street. Fun for kids. And me.
Our dinner consisted of two cans of beans and pasta. My pasta had a nice pull away cover, Bart needed a can opener for his beans. The motel’s front desk provided us with one. We have no clue how to use it. After fifteen minutes, Bart managed to torture the little can to such an extent it had enough holes to get the food out. We spent the rest of our evening drinking Tequila and Johnnie Walker Green Label with another local motel owner and a texan, and visiting a redneck party. Because of the rodeo, live bands play everywhere in town. It was great fun to be there. The ‘dress code’ was jeans, large belt, blocked shirt and cowboy hat. Not something one would encounter in The Netherlands. On tomorrow’s agenda is the rodeo and the Grand Canyon.
posted by Branko | 1:33 PM
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