The culminating part of our Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas roadtrip, featuring Mustangs, Hippies and speeding tickets in the search for the American dream.
Next stop in the blistering midday sun on the road to Vegas: Barstow. A dustbowl location with a handful of diners serving various forms of spiced cholesterol. The Norwegian was now awake and suspiciously studying his sodden hat. We picked a diner and accidentally ordered Hamburgers, Burritos, fries, Cokes and Ice Creams from staff who spoke Spanish very quickly and confused us. The Norwegian wolfed the lot, and mine, and questioned the portion size. Back on the highway, an arrow-straight road with huge vistas, we had the highway to ourselves and with the cruise control set to HIGH we ate up the Mojave Desert.
The sheer desolation of this place is breathtaking. It was hotter than Hades. At an exit for Field Road I pulled off for a luminescent wee. No field. Just desert. And someone else who was looking for the American dream. He emerged from his broken down dream and politely laughed at two red-faced hungover Europeans suffering from the early stages of sunstroke. Corby, perhaps. As we talked I gentled shuffled into an upwind position of my fragrant friend. His belongings were strewn across the desert.
There was a surfboard optimistically lashed to the back of the truck. Poetic timing. We crossed the border into Nevada and a place called Primm which seems to be a sort of mini-Vegas for those who found the journey this far too much and flop over the finishing line into Nevada to desperately gamble at the first place they find.
Rollercoasters, concrete, parking lots. More highway, then suddenly the black Camaro came out of nowhere and went past us at massive speed, rocking the wobbly Mustang as it went past. I tucked in behind a Minivan, it had a tail-lift on the back with a mobility scooter on it. We saw a few of these contraptions, the lift part bobbing up and down, threatening to tip the scooter off the back and into our path. Google found a Hotel. An ambitiously priced place on the Vegas strip with brainless staff, tiny rooms, beds as comfortable as bookcases and a fountain in reception.
