A question of self-image

I couldn't leave Las Vegas without addressing an issue that has always nagged away at me, i.e. the question of self-image. This is without doubt an astonishingly shallow place and there is no pretense that it might be any other way. So, in a world of glamour and excitement, how do I see myself?

I've never really had a terribly high sense of self-image, even when I was slim and had all of my hair (and yes, both of those things were once true...). And I admit that one side effect of this trip is that I really must do something about the former when I get home (the latter, alas, is beyond redemption). However, I generally have the decency not to flaunt my lack of conditioning. Yet I find myself surrounded by people who are grossly overweight, or amazingly inappropriately dressed or, in some particularly frightening cases, both.

On the other hand, the young lady wearing a bikini top, and a rather small one at that, whom I encountered whilst drinking coffee in Luxor (the casino) looked like something out of a Beach Boys video or Baywatch. People like that, whilst very attractive to look at, make me want to hide.

Unfortunately for Americans, the population is tending towards more of the former group rather than the latter. Lest the rest of the world mock though, don't forget that the British and, more surprisingly perhaps, Australians, are racing towards mass obesity as quickly, if not more so. At least Americans and Australians actively celebrate the cult of beauty, because we British don't. Perhaps it's the climate, perhaps the sense of suspicion amongst British men in particular of anything with connotations of 'making an effort'.

Well, I've decided that it's high time that I exited the fat race, so I'm going to try and make some changes to my lifestyle. Wish me well in the months to come, I'm going to need all of the help I can get...

Viva Las Vegas?

Indeed, welcome to quite possibly the most surreal place anywhere on Earth, where the temperature peaked today at 106 degrees fahrenheit (that's 41 degrees celsius for those of you that prefer it that way).

It has to be admitted that, after the comparatively gentle charms of Luxembourg, Mumbai, Ho Chi Minh City, Seoul, Kyoto, Rotorua, Auckland and Nadi, this has all come as something of a sensory overload, especially given that, thanks to the International Date Line, I got to experience Monday night in both Nadi and Las Vegas (don't try this at home, so to speak...).

However, inspired by the view from my 26th floor window overlooking the famous Strip, I did venture out into the stifling heat to see if Sin City is as described in the brochure. The good news is that it is just as excitingly weird as they say it is, with replicas of the Eiffel Tower and the Sphinx, an entire hotel and casino decorated in the style of a medieval English castle, or New York, or ancient Egypt, if that's what you fancy.

It's also astonishingly tacky, with people trying to thrust cards into your hand bearing pictures of scantily clad and pneumatically breasted young women who want to 'entertain' you for a price (prostitution is illegal here in Clark County, Nevada, yet there are 117 pages of 'entertainers' in the local Yellow Pages!).

Of course, the main feature here is gambling. My first sight on getting off my flight at the airport was a gate lounge filled with slot machines - lots of them. I suspect that if you took them away, the terminal buildings could be two-thirds of their current size and still handle the passengers that flood into the city. Slot machines are everywhere and if, like me, you are staying in a casino hotel (Palms, and, if you have broadband, you must see their website www.palms.com, check out the fantasy suites!), you arrive at the front entrance to be confronted by a sea of slot machines and, hidden somewhere far away, reception.

My problem is this, I don't gamble. I was trained as a mathematician (not a very good one I admit, but...) and I understand the odds, which are against me. This tends to take the fun out of it, if truth be told. What makes it worse is that the people playing slot machines always seem so miserable. They tend to look poor (as though they really can't afford to do this) and you sense that they're waiting for the miracle that never comes. It depresses the hell out of me, let me tell you...

And yet, I'm not one of those who would ban gambling, or tighten restrictions on it. If people want to gamble, they should be willing to accept the consequences of their own actions.

I have been known, on very rare occasions, to play roulette. I am possibly the world's least adventurous player, I admit, as I tend towards low stakes, high percentage choices but what can I say, I have fairly conservative personal morals (and yet I'm very liberal in terms of the moral values I apply towards others, go figure...).

But for now, I must leave you in order to prowl the night and, more importantly, grab a bite to eat...