Day 3: Whileaway Bookstore Port Douglas.

We are still all mixed up timewise.  I told Frost we were going out to a coffee shop before dinner.
"Dinner?" he squawked.  "We already HAD dinnner."
"No, that was lunch."
"LUNCH?  But if felt like dinner.  What time is it?"
"Its four pm."
"Argh.  I hate jet lag!"

He is happy now.  He and I are sitting down hooked up to the internet for the first time in ages.  The password for the $4 an hour wifi was "lamington".  Frost is watching yogscast for the first time in 3 days.

Today Mum and I did morning yoga at the beach at 8am but the day began three hours earlier when Frost got up to see if it was morning yet.  Going back to bed woke Wren who cried because he had lost "baby dog".  That woke me. I woke Mum.  We were all up by 5.15am.

Olympics
At 6.30am we watched the Olympic Track coverage of Usain Bolt winning the 100 m.  It was LIVE.  The Olympic coverage here puts the NBC coverage to shame.  At all times during UK Daylight, there are 6 channels providing LIVE coverage and replayed highlights of daily events.  At one moment I could flick between table tennis highlights, women's archery finals, the women's marathon, equestrian qualifiers, basketball and something else.  Incredible!

Before we stepped out, we were watching live 400 m hurdles qualifiers and steeplechase.

It is utterly different to watch live.  It makes me keep coming back for more in an active way while the NBC highlights is more like a packaged entertainment where you just sit and stare.

Swimming with a Big Tire
Frost has been loving boogie boarding in the small waves.  The CROCODILE and STINGER RISK signs continue to concern me and I sit on the beach alternating between reading my book, responding to Wren's urgent demands that I jump over waves and scanning the water for saltwater crocodiles or Salties as they are known here.

According to a local whom we met today, they are much more of a problem in recent years because they are not culled and numbers are increasing.

We rented a big inner tractor tube to play on today and Mum and Frost floated over the waves and toppled and splashed a lot.  Another swimmer said to Mum "You get an A for effort."

Wren sulked because he didn't want to come in the deep water but it looked as if we were having fun!

Ordering Burgers
I have been having an awful time trying to order food.  I failed to order the coffee I wanted and then had to get help ordering Burgers for lunch.  Apparently my years in the States have ruined me for Australian Fast Food.

Here are some hints for ordering a burger.  I knew this stuff, I had just forgotten and stumbled in my delivery:

1) Ketchup = Tomato Sauce
2) Fries = Chips
3) Pickle = Gerkin
4) Chips do not come with tomato sauce, you have to order it.
5) Relish is not
6) Root beer is not.  Sarsparilla is close.
7) There is no tax.
8) You do not have to tip everyone.

We have found a very nice Burger Joint called The Bull and another great pie joint.  Urbanspoon is sadly out of date around here.  I shall have to try and catch them up.

Wren says fruit bats have faces like Beezle.  What do you think?

Tomorrow we are taking a boat out to an inner island on the Great Barrier Reef to snorkel and look at fish through the glass bottom of a boat.  Wren, Frost and I are going with Mum.  Mervyn has a sore leg and is going to stay home.  Frost is very excited.  Wren is mostly excited about bats.  He says that Fruit Bats have faces like Beezle.  We are going to watch them fly out tonight at dusk.

It is now an hour from dusk and I must leave this cafe and head back to the house where we left Mum showering, Mervyn watching Olympics and Wren drawing.

We are going to watch birds and have a drink by the harbor.

Till tomorrow.  I hope to hook up the pictures soon.

Day 2: Port Douglas, Queensland, Australia

Day Two Vacation.

Port Douglas, Queensland.

Its 6.36 am and the boys are sitting at the bar in their pajamas eating Milo breakfast cereal.  Due to jet lag, both were asleep by 7pm and so we did quite well to sleep through till 5.37am

We arrived here in the early afternoon and enjoyed a visit to the beach and a swim at the main swimming area on the Port Douglas end of 4 mile beach.  The beach had the usual red and yellow lifeguard flags flying with big warnings posted about LOW RISK of stingers and the advice that crocodiles had been seen.

Crocodiles and stingers are big news up here.  At the pie shop where we had lunch you could buy crocodile pie alongside your beef, chicken vegetable and corn asparagus pies.  At the Sunday Market a store holder told me her friends had fled the river yesterday after a crocodile came after a fish they caught while out on the water in their tinny.

I asked "was it a very big crocodile?" thinking that it was a bit much to flee.

She answered "I didn't get a real idea how big it was but crocodiles are mean things that just want to eat you so they thought they'd get out of there." 

When Mum inquired about the beach warnings, the lifeguards said that while crocodiles are regularly seen swimming up and down this stretch of beach they were not  big problem to swimmers as they 'seldom' attacked people.  The theory is that saltwater crocodiles come into the ocean but feel a bit out of their element and prefer to catch fish and people in rivers and estuaries.  They have the warning up all the time.

Mum told Frost "always make sure there is one swimmer further out than you" on the theory that the crocodile or shark will eat the further out swimmer first.

Frost wore a yellow and black wetsuit and loved swimming.  He was not concerned about crocodile risk.  

Wren was very worried about crocodiles and stingers but forgot as he focused on jumping waves.  He kept up a constant dialogue about jumping a ONE wave or a TWO wave or doing his Keyhole move.

This morning, Sunday, after a walk along the beach in the early early morning, we came home for second breakfast.   Frost swam in the early light while Wren fought imaginary ogres with his wooden axe.   Cyclist peddled up the long flat beach at low tide and Frost pondered whether he could climb a palm tree if he really needed to and how he would get the coconut loose if he could.  Both collected coconuts and checked if they floated.

On the walk home we saw a giant butterfly.

Heading to Australia

Waiting to board our first flight in Seattle

Day One

Our flights from Seattle to Cairns have been spectacularly normal.  No delays, clear skies, civilized co-travelers and standard Qantas civility.  If I was tweeting I would use my 240 characters to say "it all went well."

But the devil is in the details.

More particularly, the Little Devil aka Wren who has been driving Frost and I crazy unless he has the iPad or iPhone and Candy.  At all other times he is invasively bored.  Booooooooored as in:

Putting a water bottle on top of the iPad when Frost is using it.

Kicking the seat in front.

whining loudly "IS IT HALF AN HOUR YET?"

Doing loud mental arithmetic on a loop for 15 minutes "It is 3 hours plus 14 hours it is 17 hours and how many hours it is 3 hours plus the Boss Flight for 14 hours it is 17 hours.. [Me: and the flight from Brisbane to Cairns:] I have DONE THAT… how many hours is it?  20.  BUT I HAVE DONE THAT.. it is 3 hours plus 14 hours…"

Wren did sleep well last night - from about midnight till 7am PST - snuggled with two pillows and a neck pillow (each boy bought one in LAX - I actually bought one for myself first and they both fought over it so I bought another and had none).  Frost slept well too - about the same hours.  The difference was that Wren does not find watching a screen particularly entertaining.  He likes to play with a game - interacting.  He had the iPad for about 3 hours interspersed with epic adventures to the plane bathroom and meals.

The Meals

Frost and I were vegetarians and sadly, there is no kid vegetarian, he did not find the food to his liking.  It was mainly sautéed vegetables in tomato sauce - the same thing for breakfast and dinner but breakfast came with beans and spinach in tomato sauce while dinner was zucchini beans and rice.  Wren liked his but couldn't really eat at midnight and only wanted chips and chocolate for breakfast.

I ate meals about every 4 hours around the clock and enjoyed everything,

Wren now has to pee urgently.

A peaceful moment.  A RARE moment.

Entropy

On long haul flights you have to strike a balance between hydration and urination or ins and outs as they say in hospital.  Supermodels and celebrities asked for their international travel tips invariable go on about the need to drink a lot.  Let me tell you people, they are not traveling in economy class.  They are not seeing economy class bathrooms.

When you are in economy class you are sharing a tiny bathroom with about 50 people.  At the outset of the flight the bathroom is fine.  Its like eating a meal from a tupperware.  Its not luxury but it works fine.  Five hours in its like eating lunch from a tupperware you found in a downtown dumpster.  There are strange damp spots all over, the bowl is smeared like the maw of a well-used Porta-Potty, the sink won't drain so someone else's phlegm and toothpaste froth rises up towards you as you wash your hands (which you feel compelled to do rather vigorously).  The mysterious hole that is supposed to take the used hand-drying serviettes is constipated with the silver flap jammed open so you have to push hard to make it take one more and you keep telling yourself that the wet floor is from people splashing while hand washing at the sink.

And your kids go in barefoot.

The thing is, I don't understand why I have to pee so much if I am really so dehydrated by the cabin pressure and low humidity?  If my body has been leached of liquid, surely my drinking is just topping up?  Why do I have to pee more?  Its just nonsensical.  On the decent into Brisbane I told the kids to hold it, we can go to a real bathroom on the ground.

"Great" Said Frost.

Interview with Frost about airplane toilets:  They are small.  The toilets are too loud.  The cold water won't stay on.  Etcetera.  I don't rank them too highly.

Interview with Wren about airplane toilet. "They are okay."

The Qantas Club

When we arrived in Brisbane, we had an hour to wait in the Domestic Terminal so we went to the Qantas Club where Mum had given us a guest pass.  The haughty lady at the front counter wanted to say "No" we couldn't come in and then said "I guess, even though it is expired" and then realized it was NOT.  She said we could.

For those who don't know, The Qantas Club is an airline club frequented by very frequent flyers, rich people and business people.  It is somewhat hushed, has free newspapers and buffet, internet, posh bathrooms and lots of leather lounge chairs set up for extended waiting in comfort.

Its not a child friendly place, culturally, although the amenities - a toaster that spits out delicious raisin toast, an automated pancake machine, fresh fruit yogurts, biscuits and unlimited juices - keep the kids happy.

Wren is fascinated by the Olympics.  Since he learned about the medals and the winners and the pathos of the losers something has gripped him.  Qantas is one of the Australian Team's Olympic Partners so the lounge was set up with a fake running track around the white 'marble' bar.  

Opining loudly to the hushed Qantas club Lounge "ISN'T IT WEIRD.  THE AUSTRALIANS KNOW ABOUT THE OLYMPICS.  NOW WHO DO WE WANT TO WIN?  DO WE WANT SEATTLE TO WIN OR STRALIA?  IS 'STRALIA WINNING OR SEATTLE? WHY DON'T THEY GIVE THEM TROPHIES? WHY IS THERE NO TROPHY?"

he proceeded to start running laps around the painted track where people were staring at the hi-def live feed from the Velodrome.

I managed to corral him and Frost in a booth and go and retrieve food from the buffet but Wren kept chasing me, perhaps wondering whether I was going to run out on them and leave them in this foreign place to live in vegemite, greek yogurt and biscuits.

Frost started reading the Weekend Australian Olympic Supplement and informed us (loudly) that "CHINA IS WINNING THE OLYMPICS.  THEY ARE BEATING AMERICA"

(Why do my children have to talk so loudly?  Is the ability to whisper some kind of frontal brain development not acquired till later teens?)

I tried to explain that the Olympics were about individual excellence as much as national pride but he was sure its all about the medal tally and spent some time theorizing about how the medal count (of gold, silver, bronze) was used to rank nations.

Wren was jealous of Frost's focus and tried to kick the newspaper out of his hands but kicked the crockery instead and made a great discordant clatter followed by a melodramatic guilty look and "Uh oh!"

We have now been called to the final flight from Brisbane to Cairns.

…

"I wish there was sugar cane!" said Wren, looking out the window at the ocean below.

"That was in Hawaii" said Frost.

A woman in a seat ahead turned round.  "I live in Cairns" she said. "There are fields of sugar cane.  There is a sugar mill."

"YAY!!! WE CAN GET SUGAR CANE!" shouted Wren to Frost, me and the whole plane.

July 4th Party

Frost loves the 4th of July.  The 4th and Halloween are close favorites - he says that the one he prefers "depends on the situation", how much candy is available vs the quantity of Fireworks.

This year we had a party starting at 5pm with BBQ and pies, and fireworks on the basketball court.  The fireworks at home were the small ones, however thanks to Fred and his friend Arlo, the boys had a large arsenal of fireworks from Boom City - the huge fireworks market on an Indian Reservation north of town.

In Seattle, it is illegal to sell fireworks but there are many for sale in neighboring counties where it is legal to set them off.  Frost and Alex bought more 'big ones' this year - not necessarily big in size but in effect - rather than the many small fountains and sparklers which tend to become repetitious over time.

During the afternoon we drank mohitos and ate sausages and salmon with Fred's excellent potato salad.  Some of the guys watched a Sounders Game.

"Seaaaatle, Soundeeerrrrs"  0-0 and Josh says that is an okay outcome.

Later we enjoyed two pies and icecream along with my infamous 14 egg flourless chocolate cake into which we inserted a homemade beeswax candle which (the drunk women) said looked like a big dick.  It did not.  It looked like a candle!

The 14-egg flourless chocolate cake.

I was very proud of it.

Frost was laughing too much to focus on the big candle but
his friends forced him to turn and BLOW IT OUT!

Frost cuts the cake (don't let the knife touch the bottom
or you don't get your wish!) Frost said it didn't matter
if he touched because his wish was for cake and he was
certainly going to get some! (with Nelson and Wren. Photo credit
to Lauren B).

At dusk, around 9pm, we went to an area where fireworks are allowed and let of the two large boxes of them.  Frost and Alex had an order set up but as things emerged they were running around with lighters yelling at everyone.   Another family arrived at the same time with a similar quantity and some older teenagers were set up on the skate rink.

Enemy Suppression!!!!  It shoots
sideways without warning!
Photo:  Tara's dumb phone takes good pictures!!

KA-BOOM (photo credit to Tara K!)

The boys set off fireworks like War Chest, Big Dinger, Main Squeeze, Enemy Suppression, CHAOS, Festival Balls.  Josh's favorite was Enemy Suppression while Frost enjoyed the misfires - when Nelson inserted a mortar ball upside down into the Festival Ball tube and it exploded IN the tube and the roman candles which ricocheted off the fence.  I loved the HUGE box of smoking colored parachutes (19 shots!) which we did in daylight.   All the children ran to catch the red parachutes as they emerged from enemy fire.

Wren (in yellow) runs away once the fuse is lit!!!

Jack and Frost made a Creeper out of boxes and paint and inserted a roman candle in its head.  When it was let off the creeper fell over and everyone yelled and raised their hands - "SUCCESS!"

Frost says it is more fun to set off your own fireworks.

Parachutists open in a puff of colored smoke
as kids run to catch them.  "Look how many
I caught!" said Wren, with a handful of muddled
chutes and string.

Josh is still sniffing from the smoke and I smell like Sulphur.  

Frost said "it was the best 4th of July since the first FOURTH of July."

Wren said "I am very tired and I must go to sleep now."  It was 11pm so he did.  I can still hear the pop and thud of fireworks in the distance.

I am from the UFO

The red, white and blue foil balloons are aloft in Safeway and the girl behind the deli counter is frosting cupcakes to look like hamburgers.  She’s deft with the pastry bag, her hibiscus-tattooed arms hold the bag of red frosting steady as she draws short squiggles of ‘ketchup’ on the chocolate patty.  Wren stands enraptured as she repeats it with yellow ‘mustard’ and then, donning plastic gloves, shakes on the green coconut lettuce as a topping.

“How do you make the lettuce?” he wonders.

“I put green food coloring in the coconut” she explains in a whisper.

"Of course!"  I think.  Friends, be warned, this is my new plan  – pour green frosting on the shaved coconut and make little burger-cupcakes for desert.

Wren turns around and notices the balloons with U.S.A on them. 

“What does that say?”  He asks, trying to make sense of the letters.

“It says USA” I explain.  “America – its for the 4^th of July holiday.”

“WHAT!” he looks shocked.  “I thought USA was the name for a flying saucer!”

“Nope, that’s a UFO.”

“Oh” he says, confused about his nationality.

This is the same kid who was concerned about the ZA on my car earlier.  I explained I had a ZA sticker on my car because I am a South African, a Zuid Afrikan.    He objected:

“But I am NOT a South African and I am in your car.”

“You ARE a South African a bit,” I tested (not yet fully resigned to having American children.)

“I am NOT!  I am AMERICAN” he insisted, watching my face carefully.  “Did you not KNOW that?”

“I did” I said.

“Were you just TEASING?”

I can’t explain it to him. I am not teasing.  It seems a ridiculous thing to have American children.  When I married an American man it was like trying a flavor of icecream I was a bit sceptical of – say rhubarb chocolate mint.  I didn’t think ahead to spawning rhubarb choc-mint kids.  I keep trying to garnish them with foreigness – making sure to register them as Australian’s born overseas, informing them of their South African genealogy and talking about family overseas.

Sadly, my mixed-nationalism is not working.

A few months ago I learned that Frost had told his teacher that I was born in Australia (or perhaps England?).  She invited me to class to talk about the history of the UK and Ireland.  I had to put her off gently and tell her that I was South African and happy to talk about Africa.

A few weeks ago, Frost was learning the geography of Africa (with which I am hopeless beyond the borders of old Apartheid South Africa) and I noticed that Lesotho and Swaziland were mixed up.  I corrected the map but Frost still got it wrong on the test!

Traitor!

Anyway, for those of you not in the USA I should explain the reason for the theme of nationalism.  We are entering the onramp for the next national holiday – 4^th of July or INDEPENDENCE DAY.    Its the day when the television shows us people waving flags, everyone braais (BBQs, barbies) and its supposed to be SUMMER.   I am considering celebrating the Queens Jubilee that Day or calling it UFO Day but regardless,we are having a party.

Frost is planning it with his friend Jack.  He is calling it “Frost’s birthday, July 4^th, beginning of summer party!”  He has asked permission to construct a  big creeper out of cardboard and to blow up its head with fireworks.

He has also asked me to buy a big bag of toy soldiers to melt and destroy with fireworks and to get a few "old barbies and ken guys".

I like the creativity of this plan but since Seattle City Ordinances prohibit fireworks, I am tentative in my support.  How can we have a party and then leave the city limits to let off our “Coconuts and Chrysanthenums” or “Bad Monkeys”.   How can we make a barbie inferno at home without drawing attention to ourselves?

For now, I am going along with it, dreaming of hamburger cupcakes and icy margheritas while the rain of Junuary pours outside and the old daffodils keel over and die.  I shall enjoy the practice of the holiday - if not the colonizing imperative - and plan on August in Australia as a time to ply the kids with Lamingtons and wallabies, parrots and pavlova, and set things to rights in my multi-national world view.

But #!@$!, I forgot, I am supposed to be South African?

Josh recently had his DNA tested with 23andMe and found that his paternal DNA is a long string that is definitively irish.  It has him pegged, right down to his earwax and tendency to freckle.  His maternal DNA is Western European.  I think that explains why he has just bought such a cool car.

In the absence of any information about my DNA (to heal my cultural anomy), I am considering going along with Wren's line and being from "out there" the Unidentified Foreign Object - certainly borne out by recent genealogical research.  We shall have Happy UFO day on July 4th and let Frost wave flags of his own devising as he wages war against plasticity and Minecraft threats.   And I shall be as choc-mint rhubarb as a I can with a pie and cupcakes and some margaritas to smooth it along.  

Queen of Burlesque, Brunch

Imogen, the flamingo from Australia is the new Reigning Queen of Burlesque aka Miss Exotic World 2012.  The flamingos at Seattle Zoo are a stinky lot but Miss Kelly redeemed them for me with all her lovely pink feathers, puppets and elegant disrobing.

I stayed up late.  It was already light.

I remembered to drink lots of water.

I find Vegas messes with my inner clock.  I ate breakfast at midday yesterday and nothing else all day.  There wasn't the sense that it was now time to eat.  Inside its always dark.  Outside is light a hellavu lot of the time.  Very bright.  Very hot.

I am going to try and do better today that means going out and seeking brunch of an inferior quality to yesterday.

The Donut Bar at the Verandah, Four Seasons

My 3rd course at lunch at the Four Seasons

The Tippy Tops of Tall Buildings

Ten am and ninety two degrees in Vegas this morning but I haven't been out of the ambient 74 of the hotel.

I am sitting on the monogrammed carpet of my room leaning back against the king sized bed I had all to myself.  Through the open blinds the pinacles of a faux New York skyline (the New York Hotel) glint in the yellow sky that blushes up to the faintest blue in outer space.   Helicopters circle like small flies over The Strip.

I managed to make a cup of drip coffee in my room - its one of those coffee makers where you stick a coffee 'teabag' into a slot and water drips over it into your cup.  In this case, the only cup offered was one of those white foam ones wrapped in a cup-condom so I stole a cup from yesterday's room service.  Its completely seedy.

So I am now thinking about brunch.

According to my expert advisors, brunch is a big thing in this city.  I am not sure whether my friends are up for a trip to find somewhere but I am quite taken by one that makes donuts to order for you.  Donuts no less.  The alternative is the diner in this hotel which has lots of blue formica and I am not going to vouch for on Urbanspoon.  If I don't get out for my brunch today I am going to have to come back here with Josh and do it.  Even he could be persuaded to get up by 11 for custom donuts, right?

The girlfriends are MIA after last night although I recall Natasha was going to have an 8.30am massage with bamboo sticks or rolling rocks or something else equally ..... er... specialized.


I have been reading in bed and realizing I need a flower in my hair for tonight.  Burlesque girls all wear sequins, figure hugging 40s style dresses no matter how large they are (and some girls are mighty mighty curvy), and hair fascinators.  Burlesque chickies are the fascinator heartland.

Being here, regaining equilibrium without children, has revealed that if I have no responsibilities I like the following:

1. Staying up late
2. wearing high heals
3. being very hot in the sun
4. swimming pools
5. cocktails without bottled cocktail mix
6. 1c slot machines (not 25c ones)
7. reading books in bed with the blinds open
8. having smudged eyeliner all day
9. reading badly written but thoroughly entertaining books that my English Major friends recommend in one lying in.

There are now about eight helicopters out there.

I need a bookshop.

The Tournament of Tease finals are on tonight!   I am already a fan of the Screaming Chicken Theatrical Society - I sat next to one of the performers last night - a girl from Vancouver.  Super excited.  Apparently one of the fans wore (nipple) pasties to the bowling alley so we were warned to dress appropriately.  I have found my skirt from last night but its still smoky.

Vegas Has Me In Its Grip

Its after midnight and I have been up for 21 hours without sleep.  I am sure this is why I lost $6 at the 1c slot machines and I smell like an ashtray.

Seriously, they should stop people smoking in here.  Maybe some people want to smoke and play but other people do NOT want to smoke and the people who don't want to smoke get so they can't breathe.

Its a thick pall out there and I feel like I need to use one of those indian nose teapots to get the smell out of my sinuses.  Even my non-smoking room smells vaguely smoky, probably from the non-smoking refugees being forced to hole up here with their smoke-stenched clothes.

I am going to hang out at the Luxor again tomorrow.  I had the greatest sushi rolls for dinner.  They were from a restaurant called RICE & COMPANY.  The mango and avocado roll was sufficiently good that I want to go back there tomorrow.

Oh, I saw the first burlesque performance tonight.  It was the Legends Night - meaning women who performed burlesque in the 50s, 60s and 70s performed.  Their abilities at this point varied widely but the spirit and the skill they brought entranced the audience and most received standing (and hooting) ovations.

Some are celebrities in alternative culture - one performer *Haji* had been in Faster Pussycat, Kill Kill and other Russ Meyer movies.  All had been fabled performers in the history of burlesque and the world of 'exotic' dance.

106 (Fahrenheit)

This afternoon I went down to the strip.   It was so hot outside that the soles of my shoes became tacky on the asphalt.   When I smiled, my teeth became so dry that my lips stuck to them.

It was so hot outside that my hair, which was wet from the shower, was dry before I had walked 3 blocks.

It was so hot that just one side of me became sunburned waiting for the bus.

It was so hot outside that the plastic frames of my sunglasses burned my face and made a rim of sweat across the bridge of my nose.

It was so hot that I could have burned my finger on the big silver WALK button at the intersection.

It was so hot that the guy a the refreshment stand was selling everyone TWO bottles of water instead of one.

It was great.

The cabbie was Sarajevo said it was the first really hot day of the year.

At the Luxor

That intersection

Its all about the pool

I know we are very Seattle people now, Josh embodies the NW idiom of wearing fleece all year or going out in a t-shirt in winter, but jolly geez, heat is good for the bones.

I think we might have to retire to Florida, or South Africa or Australia.... someplace with a pool and blue skies and helicopters buzzing overhead and slushy margaritas that come in a 24oz cup shaped like a beach babe with a straw out of her head.

I know there's a lot to do in Vegas but I am having trouble leaving the pool.  Seriously, I didn't even NAP despite my early start.  The pool at the Orleans is particularly lovely today, being populated by many burlesque performers and fans.  Tropical tattoos, boys with lovely ginger sideburns, girls with fake flower sin their hair and waists synched into 1940s dresses with thin belts, glossy high heels by the pool (even I!) and a particularly voluptuous girls in a blue sequenced skirt-kini make the pool culture culturally diverse.

I tried one slot machine with one dollar but it whirred and at my money. Natasha and I were a bit disappointed and have vowed to try the 1c machines next.

Kellie has gone out on the Hoover Dam in a boat with alcohol and friends.   If she returns I shall see her tonight.

See if you can make out the lettering on the lifeguard seat

I am now going to catch a city bus to the Luxor to explore and see the Titanic Exhibition.  Apparently, I can touch a piece of the Titanic.