Los Angeles, Las Vegas and Andy's Official Best Day Ever...

He totally started the hug, I'm just hanging on so tight to prevent myself from shaking...

Matt Freeman admonished me for having such a decrepit t-shirt when  he signed it. 

Hangin out with Lars down in Vegas

I'll start this off by reassuring you all that I didn't win any money in Vegas, so will in fact be returning home at some point. It turns out that winning money was unnecessary, because I met Rancid, which in my eyes is a far better prize (in fact, at a wishing well we were at earlier in the day that was the exact wish I made). For those of you who don't have Facebook, you can see how the glorious moment looked above. There will be more about this later (and expect me not to shut up about it when I get back too), but I guess I'll do the chronological order thing first...

The boys calmly drawing at Brisbane airport before our flight to LA. I was too busy worrying to get any drawing done.

I surprised myself by coping relatively well with the 13 hour flight, especially after discovering a little game called Bejewelled on the inflight entertainment thing which kept me busy for at least a few hours, and the sleeping pills took care of the rest. Huge planes feel somewhat safer and far less claustrophobic than the ones I've previously been on and I didn't get any jetlag either, so I was very proud. Not entirely over the flying thing as hoped though - the flight from Vegas to San Francisco was less pleasant due to turbulence, and Mel, I found myself picturing your face telling me to 'just breathe' a lot!

Once we landed in LA, we somehow managed to select a shuttle with a driver who had driven Joey Ramone around back in the day (verdict was that he didn't like to talk, and looked like a praying mantis), and who also delighted in telling us in detail about recent murders that had occurred at the train and bus stations we were due at later that afternoon. On the plus side, he did give us an impromptu tour of Rodeo Drive and Sunset Boulevard (Dad you would have loved Sunset, there are giant Les Paul guitars every few metres which are decorated by different artists). LA is strangely flat and sprawling, and driving round we felt more like we were playing Grand Theft Auto than seeing a real city. We only had a few hours before we had to be at the Greyhound Station, and back in Dunedin I had already made the executive decision that the thing we most wanted to do was go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame and look for Michael Jackson's star. This was achieved, despite the sweltering heat and heavy, falling apart bags (oh yeah, those bargain packs I was so pleased with buying arrived in LA with two broken straps and a broken zip, so I will have a cheesier but hassle-free mini suitcase with wheels very soon to see me through the rest of the trip).

Unfortunately there were no roving Michael Jackson impersonators for me to get a photo with, although  we did see a very lifelike Samuel L. Jackson

Enjoying our first American vegetarian pizza and beer at the Snow White Cafe  in LA

We managed to get ourselves across town on the Metro underground train thing (loving the trains!) to Union Station, and then to the supposedly crime-ridden - according our slightly crazy shuttle driver - Greyhound Station and on the bus for Vegas. After hearing that Greyhound was the cheapo US bus company, we were pleasantly surprised to find that it was air-conditioned, had seatbelts, a toilet and more legroom that I've ever encountered on a New Zealand bus, so we settled in quite happily for our six hour journey through the desert. I managed to get about four hours into my desert music playlist (Queens of the Stone Age, Tom Petty, Sublime and Bad Religion for those who are interested) before the bus broke down. And then got going again. And then broke down. Repeat times four. Apparently something was wrong with the onboard computer that ran everything, and we needed to keep stopping and waiting for it to recharge. We finally rolled into Vegas about two hours late, so it was just straight to the hotel for us, bypassing all pokie machines. After being somewhat surprised we were allowed to stay there (totally the kind of fancy hotel that if it existed in New Zealand would not have let in three sleep deprived, unwashed kids in punk t-shirts), we thought we'd make the most of it and ordered room service. Oh the decadence.

Paris Las Vegas Hotel at night

La faux Tour Eiffel

Day one in Vegas pretty much just involved us stumbling round in awe at the ridiculousness of everything. Our hotel, Paris Las Vegas, had a 50 story replica of the Eiffel Tower and a half life-sized Arc de Triomphe, as well as a ceiling painted to resemble the sky at twilight (surely just a gimmick to make you feel better about gambling at all hours of the day). Every hotel on the Strip was more extravagant than the last, and that's not even including the various attractions inside, most of which we didn't get a chance to do (slightly sad about missing the Venetian gondola ride, not so much about the Adventuredome roller coasters). In need of coffee, we ended up in the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace, which is possibly the most overblown mall I've ever seen, albeit with some kinda cool tacky fountains.

Sam in front of the Roman fountain at the Forum Shops

 Highlight was definitely coming across the Martin Lawrence Art Gallery, which had a few original Dalis, Chagalls, Warhols, etc, as well as some really impressive contemporary art. I was particularly pleased when the curator noticed my Rancid t-shirt and told me that Tim had been in there the night before, knew a lot about art and was an incredibly nice guy. From that moment on it suddenly became time to prepare for the Rancid show that night (starting at 7pm - seriously America, it is not time for gigs when it's still light outside). After a speedy first gamble at our hotel (like subsequent speedy gambles, it was neither quite as speedy nor as lucrative as we had hoped), we set off along the Strip in the opposite direction to the part we'd explored earlier and headed for the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay. Along the way we encountered the Sphinx, a pyramid, the Statue of Liberty, King Arthur's castle - just your standard Vegas landmarks.

Excalibur

This is when our first piece of luck occurred. Unbeknownst to us, the House of Blues venue where Rancid were playing was actually inside the Mandalay Bay hotel, not next to it as we had assumed. In our typical not-wanting-to-ask-for-directions-we'll-figure-it-out-ourselves Kiwi manner, we confidently wandered along a driveway thing and through some gates into what we thought was the side entrance. We quickly encountered a security guy who thought we were trying to sneak in without paying, but rather than being told off, he was charmed by our accents and general naivete ("No we already have tickets, we came all the way from New Zealand for this gig, can you please tell us where the actual entrance is?"), and said that if we came back there after the gig, he might be able to arrange it so that we could meet the band. That definitely had a ring of too good to be true about it, and I figured that perhaps he was just some random hotel employee toying with the silly tourists. I was shortly disabused of this notion when I saw Matt Freeman (bass player from Rancid for the uninitiated) hop onto the tourbus about ten metres in front of us. Right, so come hell or highwater, I was going back to that side entrance at the end of the gig and not leaving till my new best friend Robert the Security Guy let me meet Rancid (as it turns out, we had to miss 'Ruby Soho' to accomplish this, but we were first in line for Rancid greeting privileges).

We managed to find the actual entrance to the gig without any further drama, Sam was stripped of his studded belt and we all had to go through metal detectors (and this is only for a gig at a venue that was probably smaller than Sammy's in Dunedin), and finally we were there. The opening band H2O had already started, but we were in time to hear 'F.T.T.W' and 'Guilty By Association,' two of my favourites. The House of Blues seemed to have the world's most arbitrary drink prices - we paid $11, $5, $6 and $13 for the same drink at various points throughout the night depending on which bartender was serving us (and possibly on which one of us they had taken a shine to...). Well I guess it really goes without saying that Rancid were amazing, it was of course the best show I've ever seen - sorry Faith No More, you just got bumped from top spot - and we were really close to the front. They opened with 'Radio' and then it was all a blur from there (I should actually try and find a setlist online), including some cool acoustic versions of songs. The crowd was not at all violent or pushy like I'd expected, and it seemed like the band thought it was a really good gig as well, and we were rewarded for our impeccable behaviour with an extra long set. I believe I even left a few slightly boozy voicemail messages for some of you that may have been totally incomprehensible except for some ranting and Rancid in the background. Hope you enjoyed.

As soon as the the last song started, we thought we'd take our chances on Robert the Security Guy, so raced back to the side entrance to wait. Lo and behold, Robert was a man of his word, and after hanging round for about 15 minutes or so, we caught a glimpse of Lars. Who then actually started to walk towards us. It may have been at that moment that I had kittens. He was friendly and happy to take photos, and signed our tickets too (or a US dollar bill in Nico's case). I was pleased enough with that and thought all my Christmases had come at once, but Robert told us to keep waiting, and we ended up meeting Matt and Tim too. Who both signed my favourite old faithful Operation Ivy shirt! I nearly hadn't worn it to the gig because it was so full of holes I was scared it would get ripped off my back and destroyed, but decided to at the last minute because at least it would have met its end at a Rancid show. Now it's still with me and is even more prize possession number one.

He saw my Hellcat tattoo! And was impressed!

Okay, Rancid rant is over, I'm aware that ninety percent of you don't care, and the other ten percent are jealous and don't want to hear about it, but I had to indulge... While we were waiting for Rancid, we got talking to a couple of girls from Vegas who were also lined up to meet them, and they turned out to be the loveliest people ever and - excitement! - we made our first American friends. They drove us to the 'Welcome to Las Vegas' sign because we hadn't seen it on the way in, and then to a bar afterwards where we had some interestingly named beers (sorry, the specifics escape me now, mine had something to do with squatters though) and much dissecting of the Rancid show took place. Turns out they were far more practiced at the stalking thing than us, and had met a bunch of bands - I seem to recall a photo of one of them with the Strokes - and they regaled us with tales of their exploits. They were then awesome enough to drive us back to our hotel (don't worry Mum, one of them was sober because she was on call at a hospital), where we assumed we would go to bed. Vegas got the better of us though, and we went out partying again at about 2am, and lost a bunch of money to a rather evil and addictive Lord of the Rings themed machine (thankfully I don't remember exactly how much and probably don't want to know). We also got a photo outside the famous Flamingo's sign. NB: All night-time photos taken in Vegas are terrible, this may be on account of not knowing how to get the night-time camera settings working properly, or it may be due to the interestingly named beers.

Sam in front of the iconic Vegas sign

Me and Nico are the two little silhouettes in the foreground. Meh, who needs to see us,  the sign is way cooler.

Day two in Vegas did not start till 3pm. We justified this by pretending we had slept in so long to avoid the daytime heat. Our 3pm lunch was followed by a nap, and the day started for the second time at 6.30pm.We then foolishly embarked on what we thought would be a short stroll to Old Las Vegas to check out a punk store that was open till 8pm. The walk took over two hours, the store was shut long before we even found our way there, and we ended up overheated and dehydrated in the middle of a bunch of quicky wedding chapels and dodgy looking tattoo shops. We eventually found Fremont Street though, which is the main street of Old Las Vegas, and the day was slightly salvaged with an awesome vegetarian burger, sighting of a Michael Jackson impersonator who moonwalked, and some more gambling. We had learnt our lesson this time though, and caught the bus back. Distance is very deceptive in Vegas - a hotel which looked like it was about a 2 minute walk away would actually be half an hour, and there would be a multitude of street escalators, bridges and crowds of people to contend with.After an amusing double-decker bus trip (bus driver was an unintentional comedian whose microphone voiceovers about safety on the bus and the tawdry sights of Vegas had us in fits of laughter), we got back to our hotel about 11.30pm, just in time to do the Eiffel Tower ride before it closed for the night. It was incredible seeing Vegas from up high, the lights and monuments are just amazing, and once again our amateur night-time photos don't do it justice.

Me at the top of the Eiffel Tower with the Bellagio Hotel in the background

Las Vegas lights from the top of the Eiffel Tower

I'd like to say that was the end of the night, but once again Vegas intervened, and we ended up not getting any sleep until we arrived in San Francisco the following afternoon at 4pm. Booze wasn't even to blame this time, we started drinking coffee at 1am and hit the gamblies for 'one last go,' once again with disastrous results. Sleep deprivation was not an ideal condition for negotiating Las Vegas airport with all its security, rules, red lines to get behind, then in front of, beeping metal detectors and surly airport people. I may have actually been pleased to get on the plane, but then it must have been an omen that their safety video experienced technical difficulties and we had a bit of a turbulent flight sitting in the tail of the plane. A definite relief to get off that flight.

Next blog: we arrive in San Francisco, finally get some sleep, and discover a beer that will satisfactorily stand in for Taz while we're here....