Viva Las Vegas,

My thermometer shows 42º and for the first time in 3 weeks the motorbike and I come below 1000 metres height... On my way I see an exit to the the Colorado River, wellknown for the Grand Canyon and I decide to take a dive into the icecold water. Later on my knickers wave at the steering wheel to dry and it's so hot that not only the water but almost also the underpants evaporate.
The reason that I am crossing this bloody hot desert is Las Vegas City, the worldwide wellknown Mecca for the gamblers among us. 24 hours of entertainment for tourists, the rich and the compulsive gamblers. They come here in large numbers, more than 30 million a year, to find their luck at the thousands of one-armed-bandits and gambling tables that can be found in this gambling paradise.
A plane lands here every 3 minutes and the hotels have a total of more than 100.000 beds.

It's already starting to grow dusk when I come over the last hill and drive into the scorching valley. In front of me is the city with its many kilometres of neon lights ogling in the distance. A magnificent sight. First I look for a camping place and help, in the meantime, an old lady with a ditto old Ford with V8 that she is trying to start while the cooling fluid runs out of every chink of the old wreck. She is as deaf as a post and doesn't understand that the little engine is not to happy. I call a tow service who takes her and her car to the right destination.
A little later I'm stopped myself for driving without a helmet, what seems to be prohibited in this state. I even have to appear in court on the 26th of september ! I can't be bothered because by that time I'll be long gone to somewhere in Mexico.

"we are here to serve and protect you" is the slogan of the police. I have quite a different impression of the police officers here because they are rough, often authoritative and the fine is much more important than the interest of the civilian, who is, in the end, their employer (but they easily choose to forget that). No, they think quite a lot of themselves but I don't. Too bad that is often not much different in our little liberal country.







Las Vegas boulevard, "the Strip" for insiders, is the beating heart of the city. It is a milliards of dollars costing scene of show and glitter, fire-spitting mountains, pirate ships, the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, you name it. World famous artists perform in immense gambling palaces were you easily get lost, being a Dutch rooky. I am going to take a look because I am curious to find out what moves people to come and gamble here. You can lose 1 dollar just as easy as 1 million dollars, the gambling tables make no difference. There will be damn few people that leave here with more money than they came with. The beer tastes fine, but the fruitmachines won't get a penny richer from me.

I always try to look "backstage" and when I walk back to the parking garage late in the evening, I see poor Columbians and other Latin Americans cleaning the streets and clearing up the mess for a few dollars to restore the image of the city in full glory before a new day starts. In spite of the strict legislation and supervising, drugs if offered to me several times on the street. (weren't it the Americans that criticized our drugspolicy so much?)

There is a lot of compulsive gambling, porn, crime and there are even whispers that highplaced government functionaries cooperate in laundering drugs, weapon and mafia money. No, it is not only the honest tourist that brings his money here, this milliard dollar business is far too lucrative for that.
At 4 in the morning I drive back to the camping place. Looking back I realize that Las Vegas is nothing but a cheap whore in a very expensive furcoat, and it is easy to guess what makes a bigger impression on me in the end.

A day later I leave at half past 4 in the morning for probably the hottest day in my life, crossing Dead Valley that is situated almost 100 metres below sea-level, and where the temperature, sun straight over your head, can easily reach 50º.