SURVIVING SIN CITY

Driving Lamborghinis, pool parties with billionaires and a (very hungover) trip to the desert - just your typical 48 hours in Las Vegas

- TAMSIN COCKS

There may not have been a tiger in my room when I woke up in Vegas, but I did find myself fully dressed in a ballgown, smelling slightly of chlorine, with muddled memories of a conga line and Richard Branson swirling in my mind…

Bleary-eyed, I squinted at the time. It was 7.30 am – 15 minutes before my Pink Jeep Adventure Tour to Red Rock Canyon was due to leave. A spike of panic propelled me into the shower, down to the lobby and into the back of a Barbie-coloured people carrier just in time.

Red Rock Canyon is a national conservation area in the Mojave Desert, 40km from the strip, famed for its towering red sandstone peaks, picturesque canyons and Native American petroglyphs (rock carvings). I’d been looking forward to the excursion for weeks, but out on the highway, air-con battling furiously with the 40-degree heat, I suddenly felt the full extent of my hangover. Thirty touch-and-go minutes later, we reached Red Rock Canyon Visitor Center. While the group milled around the exhibits, featuring hardy desert plants and cute indigenous desert tortoises, I inspected the cool, clean ambience of the restrooms.

The next beauty spot was the colourful Calico Hills, shimmering in glorious hues of yellow, pink and red under the cloudless sky. Clutching my water bottle, I perched gingerly on a smooth rock as our guide explained the breathtaking landscape. Multicoloured layers of sediment and craggy formations tell the story of geological evolution over millennia, including a period 600 million years ago when the area was at the bottom of an ocean. Half the group clambered up a rock face to get a better vantage; I decided to live vicariously through their Instagram posts.