Day Four - March 27, 2004 - Homeward Bound

Since Aaron was over at the Bellagio already, we decided we’d head over there instead of waiting around at the Boardwalk. We figured we’d get a jump start on the line-up and then see if Aaron was there.

By a complete coincidence, we found him standing in line, exchanging money right in front of the buffet.

Luckily for us, there wasn’t much of a line-up when we got there.

When we went up to pay, we were a little shocked to discover that brunch would cost us a little over $30 --- each. When Aaron was paying for his breakfast, at first, we did a double-take. Was that $30 for all four of us or just one person?

We went in, anyway, and tried not to think too much of it.

The selection there was awesome, though. As Jen and I stood in line, waiting for our specialized omelettes to be made, we looked around at the selection, eyeing other people’s plates and making mental notes of what we’d be coming back for.

They even had dessert --- always a plus for any meal.

Maybe it was the fact that breakfast was costing us $30, but we all felt that brunch at the Bellagio was the best damn meal we’d had on our whole trip.

When Aaron ordered hot chocolate and it came with frothy whipped cream, I had to have some, too. And maybe it was all in my imagination, but I don’t think I’ve had better hot chocolate in my entire life.

I think we did a reasonable showing at the buffet and ate enough to get our money’s worth. I got this little custard with a fruit topping and the weird thing was that there was this one blueberry on the top that looked like it was covered in icing sugar. Or at least that’s what I thought it was.

“Is that mould?” Aaron asked, leaning forward to peer at it.

Of course, it didn’t really make much sense that a pastry chef at the Bellagio would miss the fact that he had a mouldy blueberry on his hands, but I still rolled it off my tart anyways and ate the rest.

While we were eating, Aaron gave us the low down on what a suite at the Bellagio looks like. He told us he still had the key and that, because he had to grab his stuff, anyways, we should go upstairs and take a look afterwards to see how the other half lived.

The room was on the eighth floor and as soon as Aaron pushed open the door, we were blown away by the view.

The room looked down directly onto the fountain and you had a breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower across the street. Aaron insisted that we jump onto the bed and try out the pillows --- the best damned pillows in the whole world.

It was like resting your head down on a fluffy cloud.

If I’d brought a big enough bag, I would have taken it home with me. Pride be damned. We’re Chinese, damnit. This is the kind of shit we do!

Okay, maybe it was a combination of having spent the last few days in an average hotel and knowing that the Bellagio was the kind of place we couldn’t exactly afford to stay at for the time being that made the suite seem so much more opulent than it really was.

I think we must have spent over an hour in that room, just taking pictures and then lounging around in bed, watching TV.

Did you know that the TV in the Bellagio has five Chinese channels? We live in Toronto --- which practically seems like Hong Kong at times --- and we’ve only got two Chinese channels back home.

Our check-out time at the Boardwalk was noon, but we had to be outside, waiting for the shuttle bus to take us back to the airport around 11:45 a.m., to give us enough time to clear through customs.

As we were riding to the airport, Aaron was sitting next to me and he joked, “Hey, Jo, we can see the mountains from here. Maybe we should walk there, too.”

At the airport, we just had to get the one attendant who didn’t know what the hell she was doing. We stood there for a really long time, while she grew increasingly frustrated, trying to swipe our passports through the scanner so that she could print out our boarding passes.

We watched as Martin and his friends picked up their passes and headed up to the terminal, leaving us behind.

Eventually, everything worked out, but then, when we got to the security check, the machine was malfunctioning and we had to wait, yet again, for everything to be fixed.

When the security woman was going through Jen’s carry-on bag, it seemed like every compartment she looked at had some sort of chocolate crammed into it.

She joked that she’d have to confiscate the bag and they started calling her “bunny” --- as in the Easter bunny.

It was kind of lame.

After all that hassle, it was a relief to make it to the airport waiting area and to be able to just sit and wait.

Aaron started checking out guys.

There was a red-head sitting behind him and Aaron mouthed that I should check him out. I mouthed back, “How much would you give him?”

Aaron held up nine fingers.

When Flo looked at him, she was like, “Seriously? Five? What’s wrong with you? I think you need to get your eyes checked.”

This poor guy came over and sat down next to me and I think he knew what we were talking about and that at one point, we were covertly checking him out too.

He kept his eyes trained on the window and sat like a statue before getting up to sit somewhere else.

I confessed that I did something “really Chinese” and I dug out the pen from the Bellagio that I’d stolen.

Wordlessly, Aaron dug through his own bag and held up the exact same pen.

The two flights back were on Delta this time around and were for a lot shorter durations than the ones that took us from Toronto to Las Vegas.

Flying at night is really different. It’s a little more exciting, I think, to be able to look down and see all those lights in the various cities down below.

When we arrived at Cincinnati, we were worried we were cutting it really close. Our plane had to circle around because it was too close to another plane to land. And, of course, our connecting flight was at a terminal that was all the way across the airport from us.

When we got there, rushing a little, we discovered our connecting flight was delayed by 25 minutes.

Jen found a couple of tabloids in a seat next to her and offered me one.

What is it about the lives of celebrities that keeps us so captivated? It’s like we relish in their miseries. How sick is that?

Our connecting flight was on a much smaller plane and when we dashed out onto the tarmac, it was raining heavily and the cold water splattered uncomfortably on us as we the wind bit at our faces.

Looking back, do you know what I realized? No matter how you enjoyed the trip, it isn’t until a little bit later, when you can look back and you’re going through the pictures that the trip seems really fun.

I know that sounds strange, but I suppose it’s the way time sort of distorts memory and brightens everything, heightening the sights, sounds and experiences of that time together.

Who knows? Maybe we really will have to go back one day.