Bellagio Hotel. Google says Bellagio means "beautiful lake' in Italian.
I was intrigued by all the flags and kites hanging in the Bellagio.
You probably remember this one...
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This is the *truly spectacular* blown glass chandelier made for the Bellagio by Dale Chihuly in 1998. Chihuly's a glass-blower I learned about when I went to college at RIT/School for American Crafts in 1991, so I was kind of interested to see the chandelier. Each one of these flower disks is at least 2 feet wide and several inches thick. Our camera died immediately after seeing this "chandelier", as I ruminated about what would happen if the gorgeous glass petals crushed our skulls.
We went from this room with the chandelier to see what we came for that day: the fountains inside the Bellagio. There are two amazing kinds of fountains inside. One set of fountains form continuous arcs of water. The amazing part is that the shape and the trajectories of these arcs barely wavers at all. The landing for each stream of water is very small, so there is no room for error. The other type of fountain (there are many of these and they are smaller) lobs water in perfect spheres at regular quick intervals from one tiny platform to another, in a perfect arc. Amazing, beautiful, cool. Fluid, transparent, light-refracting gelatinous crystals... The fountains are wonders of engineering. And they are wonders of nature, I guess - the nature of water.
This is the room where the mechanical eagles were. Baby eagles and a large bird. There was a giant twelve foot or so nest with two or three MASSIVE baby eagles, moving around as though they were opening and closing their mouths to signal their hunger - and looking around the room, in jerky awkward mechanized glory. Oh and there were about five thousand American flags in this room too. I thought the mechanical eagles wrecked the room. I wouldn't have minded if the fountains and the eagles were in separate places. I understand the need to have things that kids would like (though it is honestly BEYOND ME why anyone would bring small children to Vegas, especially with so much push to sell sex in general and women's bodies everywhere).
My stepfather and mother brought me and my sister and brother to Vegas when I was a little kid, which I will write about here in the near future.
This was an interesting bar in the depths of the Bellagio. It was early morning when we vistied so it wasn't quite re-opened yet. The layers of gracefully curved wood slats was so intriguing. And the wood really infused the place with warmth and sexiness. If we were in LV longer, I'd want to visit this place and see what it was like during business hours.
One-armed bandits. My friend Dave called these "stained glass windows in the church of chance"
The Bellagio's casino (and they force you to walk through a maze of casinos if you want to get to anything in LV) was the least smokey, least chaotic, best organized and maintained, in my opinion. The hallways, however, were filled with the smoke of a million Europeans and Asians capitalizing on the low value of the American dollar. And a million realtors and plumbers who were in town for the conventions. I joked to a waiter that we were in town for the Idiot Convention, "Burning Ass 2005".
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Bellagio at night. We walked The Strip on the other side - trying to get to Treasure Island for the last "Pirate Show" at 11 pm. Canons, there were cannons. M was excited. This was the nectar for which we came to LV. We saw, from as distance, as we walked past the Bellagio, a beautiful lit-up fountain show, with fountains of all heights spraying in patterns, some of which reminded me of giant synchronized swimmers with their graceful arms swaying like palm trees above the water's surface... the fountains shot up at smooth angles and gentle arcs, forming complex, soothing, intricate patterns. I thought to myself, "I need some more of THAT." A respite from the hot ugliness.
The fountain show was accompanied by beautiful classical music we couldn't quite make out from the other side of the Strip, but it was just so relaxing and so very pretty. We decided we'd come back after reaching Treasure Island.
Ah, peaceful, 'beautiful lake'
On the way back, at 12:30, we stopped at the Bellagio and grabbed a good spot from which we could see the fountains when the show started again. And start again it did - THEN FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. The speakers blared Elvis singing "Viva Las Vegas" til they almost blew the woofers and cracked the tweeters into a million tiny whimpering pieces.
The fountain show this time, though still beautiful in its own way, shot only straight up and down. Our neighbor at the stone wall leaned over to me, and with a wry, completely toothless smile, his day-old cigarette-and-beer breath said that he could do that same trick with garden hoses and a couple of neighbors' help. I was thinking the same thing.
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Some of the mist came flying across the "lake" into our faces and that was wonderful and refreshing. M was not feeling well by this time so we had to high tail it to CVS to buy bottled water, and lots of it. Because it was impossible to get anything to drink in the hotel without going to a bar or ordering 6 ounce bottles of water or soda from Room Service.
We waited in line for a long time. You might not be surprised that there is a long line at CVS at 1:30 in the morning. Or if there is a supermodel-looking couple in front of you. Or if the male portion of the supermodel couple is wearing all white, with a thin line fu manchu, is holding a 36 pack of condoms in his hand, along with three Las Vegas teddy bears. Or that his woman, when she returns with four packs of Monostat 3, Massengil douches, Vagisil, Preparation H, a bag of gummy bears and a box of Red Vines, immediately takes the condoms from her guy pal but has so much in her hands that she drops everything but the condoms on the floor. Or that she turns around and asks your boyfriend instead of her own guy pal to hold the condoms while she picks up the rest of her stuff. Or that when she bends over and she's not wearing panties, and you expect to see something unusual, that her shaving burn grosses you out almost to the point that you don't want to have sex for a while just to get the image out of your mind.
I wondered why a gorgeous, Versace-dress-wearing, six-foot-two woman like her wouldn't know how to shave and care for her chocha. I immediately thought of this website.
We also wondered why she paid for everything. He only bought the teddy bears. Was he a giggolo? Or were they a tag team escort couple?
The way the bright white at the bottom of this pic fades into the (currently) white background of WoM - I like it.
I thought of the fountains as I fell asleep later that morning. They were the most pleasant part of the day, with the exception of the sweet date I had with M earlier, and the awesome seafood we ate at Emeril's New Orleans.
It is unlikely that I will visit LV ever again, because everything I like in LV is actually better found elsewhere - architecture, interesting streets and lights, good food, dance clubs. Since we're not into gambling and I cannot stand musicals.
We spent more on caffeine ($40 - for 6 coffees) in LV than we did on gambling ($5).
(I think) M would probably have liked seeing something really sexy like a themed stripshow if we had been there longer. I would have been willing to go with him, but ever since my hardcore clubbing years when I danced on pedestals (with my clothes on) 4 nights a week and many of my cohorts were strippers, my stomach for it has, well, shifted. I see something else now when I look at strippers. If the situation was right, and we could go straight away to a comfortable place to chill/smooch or dance or get busy, with the right tequila and the right dress/shoes on I think it could be fun. Really fun. But there is no quickly going anywhere private or cozy in LV. Probably not even if you're rich and can afford anything. Unless you party in a limo. That is probably one reason why people must call the numbers on the escorts cards - so they can bring something a little wild into their hotel rooms.
I find people also seem to act differently, and not in a pleasant way, when they feel anonymous in the middle of the desert. Me included, I think, remembering a conference I attended in Palm Desert a couple of years back. Wild is one thing. It's a fine line sometimes between wild/uncomfortable to remember and wild/comfortable to remember. Maybe that's why people sometimes drink and party so hard, to lessen the possibility of remembering. Or feeling it.
I can't help thinking of the song Lake of Fire now that I know the Bellagio means Beautiful Lake. And mostly I don't mean the fire and brimstone and shame part. I mean the kind of fire that erases.
The slogan "What happens here stays here" is the thing which kept me from even considering eloping in LV. I don't want to get hitched any place where people come to do things separate from the rest of their truths and lives. LV is a place built up out of facades.
Someday I will likely marry my beloved M. I want to do it in a place private and natural. And I want the join to integrate and be real in every way. Acknowledged and honored by every particle in me.
barbed wire
