| Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas Pt.1
Budweiser with Tequila chasers beneath a
Greek flag hung upside down and a massive
screen showing baseball, just like we do in
England. Baseball, what a pointless sport, a
kind of cricket with the aim of running around
in the dirt back to where you started, played
in pyjamas by portly Hispanics with draught
excluder moustaches. I asked the Barman what
makes this an English pub and after about 3
minutes of gob-open thinking he pointed at
a dartboard in the corner. Time to go. Where
do we find the American dream around here?
There were two suggestions from boozing
locals, the first being to visit a winery, which
the Norwegian (being a connoisseur of all
things alcoholic) sniffed at. Wrong kind of
terrior, apparently. The second suggestion was
to take a budget flight to Vegas. We’d had quite
enough budget flying, thank you very much,
and looked at a map. It didn’t look far and we
had a Mustang. An early night would be the
sensible thing to do, so we sat drinking Bud
until the small hours and got what felt like
30 seconds sleep before throwing luggage
into the boot, taking care not to crush the
Norwegian’s Cowboy hat.
America is a big place. The less charming
Americans tell you that England (The UK/
London/Scotland/Great Britain, it’s all the same
to them) will fit 12 times into their lunch box.
With the Norwegian at the helm we bounded
down the Pacific Coast Highway, a beautiful
road, and before turning inland we stopped at
a pretty beach, accessed by crossing a broken
fence and a railway track. The Norwegian had a
swim. I had a paddle. My shins were blistering
in the heat. I called my Dad to tell him I was
standing in the Pacific. “The last Duisberg to
visit the Pacific was there to shoot Japs”, he
said, before ringing off as he had to get to the
tip before it closed. Back in the car, through
LA’s suburban slums and then east towards
Las Vegas. It didn’t look far on the tatty map
in the pub a few hours before. A Camaro was
following us. Probably going the same way.
We pulled off the highway and back on again.
14 | MotorPunk October 2013