Our trip did not start in Tucson, Arizona. Sadly, we had to fly to Las Vegas because all the German alcoholics and gamblers seem to fly to Vegas. And since there are more of those in Germany than SurfSmurfs flights to Vegas are ridiculously cheap. When you look around on the plane it makes you wonder about what a miserable nation you come from. Even if you pay double, my advice: Fly to wherever you want to get to directly, avoid Vegas.
Of course, Vegas is the place for you if you like being handed pictures of underaged prostitutes walking through town with your wife in your arm. Or if you are interested in empty faces you kind of want to slap and ask: anybody home? Or if you want to meet Donald Trump (he came the next day). But it’ll probably be hard to slap him.
Vegas is shiny and stinky, people come like flies, and we are no exception. This makes me angry. We don’t want to support this atrocity. All we can do now is spend as little money as possible. A hunger strike seems like the best option.
Next day, sunrise. We are out of there. Straight to the Crand Canyon. Running through hordes of Asian selfie stick warriors straight to the edge. Just before I jump to get away from this man made madness I open my eyes and breath. Heaven and hell, so close. Who the fu** needs Vegas?