Before Social Media the most boring thing you could possibly be asked to do was to look through someones holiday snaps. “We’re back from our holiday, come over and look at the photos, I’ve fired up the projector, the slides are ready”. Quick, come on brain, think of an excuse to get out of it. “Didn’t I mention? I’ve contracted (enter chosen disease here), although the doctors aren’t certain what it is I have exactly, they say it’s extremely rare and I must stay in complete isolation for six months. I’d love to see the photos of your hotel from ten different perspectives along with the view from your bedroom window, but currently I’m battling to cling on to life”. In other words I don’t want to die of boredom as you show me photos that has the sea as its main subject matter. Of course now everyone is absolutely fascinated to look at other peoples holiday snaps on Facebook, it’s a strange world. With that in mind, here’s my holiday snaps. In my defence there are none of my hotel, or the sea. Mostly they’re of other people on holiday, which when I think about it is even stranger.
That’s Street Photography for you, once you try to explain or think about it then it quickly becomes apparent what a weird genre of photography it is. Hold on, isn’t the title of this post, ‘Maybe This Time’, a song from Cabaret? That links nicely to the last blog post, and yet these blogs rarely make any sense. I’m not even a fan of that film, but if they’re going to turn into something with clarity and direction instead of some kind of weird stream of consciousness I’m all for it. What is the use of sitting alone in your room…let’s get on with this part of life’s cabaret. This trip, just like the journey from London to Las Vegas, was a long time in the making. I’m not entirely sure how many times I’ve been to Vegas, my first was in 1995 and almost every year since I’ve been putting myself through hell, sometimes twice a year. My friend, Kev, and I have had our plans derailed over the last few years, the curse of Covid meant that I haven’t been since 2019.
Those people aren’t Covid patients by the way, that isn’t a nurse either, they’re merely customers and she’s a waitress at “The Heart Attack Grill”. I have to be honest, this time I really felt the trip, it’s a long haul. We stop over in Chicago on the way, no direct flights for us. Perhaps it’s my age or the fact that I was only just over a Covid infection. We flew out on Tuesday morning, I wasn’t sure that I was going until my official test on the Monday afternoon. The evening before I took my own and it was still showing positive, albeit a really feint line. I said to the lady who administered my official test “My son had Covid, we kept him off school even though the positive line was extremely faint, you could hardly see it”. She looked at me as to say “Just asking for a friend are we?”. Following that she replied that they usually ignore that kind of result. So it was that I found myself the next morning boarding a flight to Chicago. That stop sees us heading to The Hilton Hotel in the middle of Chicago O’Hare airport for a few beers whilst we wait our flight to Vegas. It’s my favourite place in the world. I know that sounds strange, but it makes sense if you think about it. I’ve got up in the early hours of the morning. Kev has collected me, we’ve driven and hour and a half to London Heathrow. We’ve parked, checked in and waited around for hours to catch the flight. After sitting on a plane for almost nine hours, we have queued to pass through the border/immigration control, collected our bags and handed them back to be placed on our next flight. By the time we order a couple of Buds at the bar in the Hilton I’m in a really good place, free to do what I want for a couple of hours in the knowledge that we’ve broken the back of this pilgrimage, just a three and half our plane ride to Vegas left to go. So you see these photographs below aren’t great, but they mean a lot to me. London Heathrow waiting for the plane. Chicago O’Hare outside for a cigarette. On the inter-terminal tram. Entering the Hilton, walking through O’Hare’s technicolour underpass where millions have walked before, I’ve done it myself at least 25 times. Finally we arrive at Las Vegas McCarran where they’ve very thoughtfully placed an opportunity for some gambling and a smoke within the airport before you collect your luggage.
Incidentally, upon discovering that I was a photographer the barman in the Hilton Chicago showed me just about his entire ‘Gangsters that are buried in Chicago’ photo collection. I saw Al Capone’s grave and many, many more. Almost like looking through someones holiday photos, but I was happy to spend the time because he seemed like a nice guy and as stated previously I was in a very happy place, nothing seems to bother me in the Hilton Chicago. Strange, but there it is. Anyway, just to put all that travelling into context I reviewed the text messages between myself and Sam in GMT. Kev picked me up at 07:45 am. At 23:11 pm I reported that we were enjoying a beer in Chicago. At 7:04am I replied to her that I’d just got to my room. Her reply was “Crazy! That’s a long day. Get some rest”. Easy for her to say. I went down to the casino and gambled for four hours, couldn’t fight it anymore and got some rest. Three hours sleep and it was 8:00am in Vegas and time to grab a coffee. I’d begin my morning walkabout with the camera as I do every single day. Stroll up to the Plaza Casino for a takeaway coffee. This was the first shot I took as I ate my muffin and enjoyed a cappuccino.
Each day I wake up and fall into my usual routine. We’re all creatures of habit. I walk the same route, up and down Fremont Street which is under a canopy used in the evenings as a light show. Thankfully in the mornings it’s just music playing, I recognise a lot of the songs and even though I’m not a Country and Western lover find myself humming or occasionally singing along. I’m a big fan of mornings in any case, especially when they’re in Downtown Las Vegas.
When I’ve had enough of Dolly Parton and her friends I turn off Fremont Street and explore the streets a block or so off. The problem with Fremont Street is the light, that canopy casts an odd light, occasionally letting some in, otherwise it’s quite dark. That’s from a photographic perspective, the general public wouldn’t notice, but it can make things tricky for Street Photography. I end up with really grainy or out of focus or blurry shots because I’ve had to either boost up the ISO which we know my Leica really doesn’t like or slow the shutter speed down. Here’s an example that I just about got away with.
As you can see there’s always a security presence Downtown. The Police are there too, not the band, the official crime fighting lot. I’ve quoted this before: Somebody once said to me that I should be staying up the Strip not Downtown, you’ll get stabbed one day. That particular week there were two shootings on the Strip, meanwhile Downtown had to solve the mystery of a dead woman found at the bottom of a laundry chute. Good grief, I’d be twice as likely to die on the Strip! Incidentally, what caught my eye with that photo above was obvious, but the second was that one of the bicycles was sponsored by Smith & Wesson. Surely that’s a gun manufacturer? Only in America as they say. If you took the time to look at the airport photos you’ll see a sign in the entrance of the Hilton that states “No Handguns”, that’s an interesting thing to see for an Englishman, over here we don’t have those signs, it just goes without saying. I wonder if assault rifles are allowed?
A couple of locals there above arguing over one dollar that was apparently owed. Where’s the sign that says “No hitting people with baseball bats”? In fairness I suspect a lot of those on holiday get to the stage where arguments ensue over one single dollar by the time they’ve been in Vegas for a few days.
You can already see that most of my photos take on a familiar theme, people walking along or standing at crosswalks. It’s just the way it is and although you’d think I could get better after seven days it isn’t as easy as you’d imagine. Although the ‘Theatre of Covid” has gone, no masks in Vegas as in the U.K., that really only existed just to make people think it’s safe, just like an untrained door person waving a plastic wand at people to take their temperature. Utterly pointless. That said we had to wear a mask in the airports and on the plane. Imagine you’ve been in Vegas for a week, crammed around the tables, people laughing, shouting, coughing, smoking. I didn’t see anyone constantly cleaning gaming machine buttons, chairs, tables, gambling chips. When you get to Vegas McCarran airport it is imperative that you wear a mask.
I tell you this because despite the lax covid regulations it’s still fairly quiet by Vegas standards. It’s always been a 24 hour kind of place, if you wanted something to eat at four in the morning you could practically wander into any casino and sit in a restaurant. That was something we noticed straight away. You had to think ahead, because a lot of the restaurants now close at 11:00pm, unheard of pre-covid. Some nights I could only find a Subway open. Additionally your hotel room won’t be cleaned daily unless you specifically ask. This wasn’t our usual casino hotel, we stayed in a different one because the prices were so high. I was fine, because it was cleaner by the time I left than when I arrived and there were two king size beds, four nights in one and into the other for the remaining three. You had to empty your rubbish bin and leave the bag outside, call for more towels if required. I’m okay with that, often a knock on the door “room service” by the maid is bloody annoying whatever time it is. People keep strange hours in Vegas, it’s not the usual holiday resort. Just to prove how much further things have changed I usually have my room comped, free for the week or at least part of it. Not happening this time, no comp for the room or food. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not there gambling thousands upon thousands of dollars, I’m essentially a low roller, but I had become accustomed to a free room and some food. The drinks are still free though if you’re gambling, thank god for that!
So, I fall quickly into my Las Vegas routine and once that happens nothing much happens. You need to make the effort to do something else, but somehow you fail to be bothered. Usually we manage at least something different. A trip to another part of town, a fancy restaurant. I’ve been up to the Strip once in the last ten years, there’s the ‘Mob Museum’ in the Downtown area that I promise every year I’ll visit. Good god, I walk past it every morning. There’s a brand new casino been built called “Circa”. It’s a huge place.
And that’s just part of it. Guess what? It’s opposite the Plaza where every morning I get my coffee and muffin. You’d think I’d have gone in to take a look, well I did, albeit on Day 6! As much as I love Vegas and the company of my friend I feel more of an effort needs to made when I’m there. Some of our best times and stories happened when we broke with routine. Which bring me neatly back to life being a Cabaret. I bemoan people who don’t make an effort to do anything. Look at me , I travel to Vegas, but when I get there I don’t do that much out of my ordinary Vegas routine. On our first visit in 1995 we were there for five days. We took the longest route possible via Los Angeles and then visited every casino Downtown, every casino on the Strip, the Hoover Dam, a chocolate factory and even where they produce Ocean Spray cranberry juice. Okay, those last two were included in the Dam Tour (that Damn Tour), we had no interest in chocolate or cranberries. Then there were all the shady bars…etc etc. Of course we were all younger men back then. Everything in America caught my eye, it was new, different and exciting. Even the cars and trucks, the signs... I was just so happy to be there and see it all.
Trying out some colour matches there, red, green and whatever the other colour is. A missed opportunity with the green example. I needed to dip down slightly so the palm trees looked like plumage on the heads of the people standing to match the girls. Just so we’re clear none of those ladies were my type, but difficult not to click with all that colour going on and they stand out, just as is their intention. Bored yet? Here’s a grid of some more people on holiday. They all open into full size if you click on them. What’s that? You think you might be coming down with something and can’t stay any longer. It’s nearly over, I promise.
Maybe this time was my thought as we left London. Could I win? No, be realistic. Could I break even? I lost, but not very much. I didn’t lose the love for my old flame, although it could need a little bit of reigniting to burn more brightly. Next time I’m definitely going to make more of an effort to break the routine and I think re-capture that fascination with being in a foreign country. I have somehow become rather blasé with Las Vegas, the city that screams for your attention doesn’t seem to hold mine. Maybe this time also refers to my photography, I’m always hopeful it’s going to improve. I’ll leave you with a few more shots. Not necessarily my favourites, but ones that for a brief few moments took me back to when the enormity, brashness and complete contrast from home held my full attention, when I was in awe of both the U.S. and Vegas. Those wide streets, that seem about half a mile to cross, “18 minutes” or is that seconds, completely un-aerodynamic trucks that are dwarfed at the rear entrance to a casino, the ridiculousness of seeing two naked old men stood next to a hot dog advertisement (enough to put anyone off!) and those ambiguous moments where you wonder, in your best 1950’s British policeman’s voice: “‘Allo, ‘Allo’, ‘Allo. What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”. Is the driver with his hand out of the door having a heart attack thinking she’s a nurse not a waitress, perhaps hoping she’ll give him one, a heart attack as well or just innocently dropping off his granddaughter to work and saying be careful around here. That’s the beauty of those types of phots, we’ll never know.. and it is Vegas after all.
In my next blog I’ll show you some photos from the wedding I shot last Saturday. Then Some family photos and in a few weeks we’re off for a break in Turkey. Sadly I won’t be anywhere near Constantinople, oops, get with the times, I mean Istanbul. We’ll be in one of those huge hotels that have twenty swimming pools next to the sea. I’ll get the projector ready for when you come over…
As always my sincere thanks go to anyone taking the time to read this blog.
All images can be opened by clicking on the thumbnails and are made using a Leica M with Summicron 28mm Lens fitted.
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