Few people realize that the Strip is around 5 miles long. From its southern tip at Mandalay Bay (where we were staying) up north to the Stratosphere Tower is a good 5 miles. So wasting no time, we got up semi-early, and started hoofing it through the canyons of slot machines up north. We even at times, actually ventured outside into the dry winter sunshine. A perfect mix gambling, shopping, and crazy sidewalk vendors.

So, up north. Through a pyramid, onto the ‘air shuttle’, skirt a medieval castle, walk through Manhattan and across the Brooklyn bridge in a record 10 minutes, push through an ungodly large construction site, and eventually find our way to the Tuscan inspired Bellagio. Although the Bellagio is indeed a beautiful casino, we were unable to find a decent breakfast there.

Good thing too, cause I have rarely had such perfect croissants and brioches with my coffee. A great way to start the day. I would have bought all the chocolates too, but we didn’t have the time to eat them, nor the inclination to carry them with us all day. So after our croissant and coffee, we kept walking north. Mark had some Xmas shopping to do, and Vegas has more shops than I can count. So off we went.

After a few more miles, we found a humungous mall right on the Strip. Stores a plenty. While Mark was looking for a particular gift (which he eventually found and bought), I was keeping my eyes peeled for Santa’s stripper elves.

It being Vegas and all, the show was replete with long leggy and scantily clad dancer elves, all apparently shanghai’d from the various night club revues. Seeing the stripper elves strutting up and down the catwalk, smiling at Santa and all the small kids and any male under 30 was odd, but not, I must admit, in a bad way. I am all for stripper elves at Xmas time. Or any time come to think of it.

Sadly though, this day, no such luck. The mall was filled with nothing but stores and shoppers. That could mean only one thing, time to move on.

But, they were real dead bodies, perfectly preserved, and cut, propped up, and on display. The show, sorry... exhibit, was dutifully respectful and educational, but who are we kidding? The cool part was not just seeing anatomy in great detail, but to ‘know’ that the items on display were all ‘real’.

Finally, back to the hotel room. A few hours rest, more for my knee than anything else, and then only one more item on the agenda for us. A great dinner at a French bistro called Bouchon, in the Venetian casino.

At around 7 we left for Bouchon. Bouchon is a perfect French bistro, albeit a pretty large and luxurious one. Run by Thomas Keller, who is the only American chef with two three Michelin star restaurants (one in Napa, the other in NYC). Bouchon does not have any stars, but trust me, it certainly should.

It was incredible. Great service, but even better food. It’s upstairs in the tower suites of the Venetian, far away from the endless din of the slots and low-rollers. Upstairs, it’s all opulence, silence, and marble. I won’t bore with too many food details — just keep in mind that when you go to Vegas, make a reservation at Bouchon for dinner (or lunch, or breakfast). Also, when there, make sure to order the duck confit and the beef cheeks. It’s incredible. I know for sure that next time Kat and I go to Vegas, we’ll be visiting Bouchon more than once. We might even have to stay at the Venetian, just so we don’t have to walk too far after eating.

Knowing the odds were well against us, we nonetheless picked two roulette tables, and put $20 on each of them, each time on Red 7. The 36 to 1 odds were enticing, but proved fruitless. We quickly lost our wagers, headed upstairs to our room, watched ‘Superbad’ (which lived up to its name) on the super-size high definition flat screen, and then called it a night.  A day well spent.