We probably didn’t do ourselves any favours, leaving so late for Las Vegas. We stopped for lunch at the Mad Greek café in Baker. A bizarre place in the middle of the desert: all decked out in the Greek national colours, with pictures of sunny little Mediterranean ports, and Nana Mouskouri singing in the background. The café was serving traditional Greek food, but we played safe and opted for a couple of ‘Onassis burgers’. We were grateful for the very effective air conditioning.

When we arrived in Las Vegas, the thermometer in the street read 107 degrees. We weren’t terribly choosy about our lodgings, so when Brigid spotted a large neon Motel 6 sign beside the airport, we checked in. At $41.44 plus tax, and just off ‘The Strip’, it seemed like a good deal. To be fair it was quite comfortable. We had only two complaints. We could not access the Internet, because you needed to use a phone card to make anything other than the most local call. Also, Brigid found a dead cockroach on the bathroom floor … (But, as John said, “It’s dead, what’s the problem?”)

That evening we took a stroll up and down The Strip, taking in the lights. We dined in a replica French brasserie, ‘Mon Ami Gabi’, in a sort of Disney-type representation of Paris, complete with half-scale Eiffel Tower. (Other themed areas include New York, Monte Carlo and Venice.) The waiter distinguished himself by explaining ‘pommes frites’ as “French fries, only better”! We passed on the fries, choosing pommes dauphinoise to accompany our very excellent steak au poivre.