Vegas part three isn’t really so much about Vegas as the journey home. Which took eight hours. Let me repeat that, eight hours. Eight hours in a car, in traffic when all you want to do is sleep.
We anticipated longer than the four hours you get on an easy traffic day – thinking probably up to six. Such wishful thinking.
Clearly the despair didn’t set in immediately so the first few hours were bearable but as the day progressed and we saw a variety of cop cars with normal cars pulled over we had a theory that the drivers had themselves lost the will to live and carried out wreckless driving maneuvers just to get arrested and taken off the road.
At one point as we arrived for a toilet stop we were concerned we may not be able to get out since we’d been stuck in the same positions for so long our bums had become part of the car. We pulled up to the garage dissapointed to see a sign saying ‘no restroom’. We drove on a mile down the road to the next place. Where luckily, for want of a better word, my need to pee was extreme so I ripped myself free and ran. ‘Sorry ma’am restrooms are out of service’ was the response. Crossing my legs and doing my best wee dance back to car I hastened everyone back in and stated we had to get to McDonalds four miles further along. And quick.
You’ll be pleased to know that after breaking the world sprint record on arrival at McDonalds I safely made it into the toilet only to find the door to the actual toilet cubicle had somehow locked itself from the inside. For the first time I found a benefit to the excessively large gaps at the sides of toilets in the US, so I jiggled around trying to unlock the door from the outside, whilst hugging around trying not to have an accident, until finally there was nothing for it. As well as large gaps at the side of doors there are large gaps underneath the doors and so there was but one option. An unusual sight the lady walking into the bathroom to see me flat on my stomach with my legs sticking out of the toilet cubicle. Thankfully I made it in and disaster was saved. From the inside I then fixed the issue for next customer.
As day passed into night we needed coffee but it was slim pickings especially after the GPS had taken us off the main highway. Then out of nowhere we came across Charlie Brown Farms. One of those slightly unusual local places that is a god send since it sells everything, yet with a strange visual merchandising approach and slightly overall randomness. Never the less we were welcomed by ice cream with hot chocolate sauce (well some were), hot coffee, hot dogs, hot sauce (many hot things it seems) yet also big foot memorabilia, unicorns, fake moustaches and all other random trinkets you could never imagine you’d need; Mostly because you would never need them. I think they based their business on the traveler who has ended up on the road for far longer than intended, is hungry, thirsty and generally lost the will to live along with all common sense.
Fulfilled and with the end in sight, post Charlie Browns we hit the final stretch. Thankful and tired we arrived home firmly in the dark, which was welcome in so much as it ensured my body felt ready for sleep the second I got home. Next time however, we’re flying.