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Pique n' Your Interest

Pants? Check…

That constant whooshing noise was most likely the air exchange system pumping oxygen-rich product into the casino, but I could almost swear it was the sound of a giant sub-floor vacuum sucking the cash out of my wallet. Vegas, Baby! – it was a privilege to be robbed by you.

Back home, my stomach stretched out and always hungry after four days of binge buffet dining, I’m still trying to decide how I feel about my first visit to Sin City.

Deep down, I don’t think Vegas should even exist – urban sprawl and large-scale development set impractically in the middle of a treeless, waterless desert, created solely for the purpose of exploiting our worst human vices for crass profits. At a more superficial level, I’m glad it’s there, and can’t wait to go back.

I’m proud to say I made it out of there relatively intact, down only slightly after four days of gambling like a total wuss – don’t bet more than you can afford to lose, as the saying goes, and I really couldn’t afford to lose all that much.

Not that everybody loses. I passed two big slot machine winners in the casinos, one winning a thousand dollars, another winning $800. I watched dozens of other people walk away from the craps and roulette tables, and the sports bookies exiting with thousands in cold hard cash in hand. And I was tempted, I’ll admit – it’s not like I’m above making the occasional wager.

I’ll bet on practically anything, as a matter of fact. I’ve bet friends that they couldn’t eat and hold down various quantities of McDonald’s food. I bet a friend that he would get shot down by a girl at a school semi-formal. A few months ago I even won $30 U.S. betting three friends that the Australian duck billed platypus has a stinger, secure in the knowledge I gained through a zoo summer camp and various nature shows.

I once ran a weekly football pool out of my high school that my teachers discovered – and then proceeded to enter every week. It was $5 a card, and one Sunday I had more than $400 in my pockets for the winner and runner-up.

In Vegas there are opportunities to gamble around every corner, from the moment you arrive at the airport to the moment you’re called for boarding on the way home. It’s exciting, although the sound of a thousand machines going "ding ding ding ding" 24 hours a day will slowly drive you insane.

My own highs and lows could be measured in fives and tens, up some and down some for the entire weekend. The people I was with were betting slightly bigger stakes on higher risks, and were up close to a thousand dollars Canadian after their first night. They lost most of that back to the house over the rest of the weekend, but on the bright side, they were well entertained and drank free for three nights in a row, probably making back every penny in liquid compensation.

Gambling aside, nothing could have prepared me for the sheer size and scale of Vegas. The entire resort of Whistler could fit inside a single casino-hotel complex, with plenty of room left over for an athletes village.

In fact, the hotels themselves are the main attraction in Vegas, with thousands of people wandering up and down The Strip – basically a six lane highway – to gawk at these massive complexes. We visited the Shark Reef aquarium in the Mandalay Bay hotel, the indoor malls / canals at the Venetian, the massive shopping complex of Caesar’s Palace, the famous fountain show at the Bellagio, the indoor rainstorm in the Alladin, and the outdoor roller coaster at New York New York, and still only saw a tenth of what was being offered.

The architecture itself was incredible, with massive replicas of the New York and Paris skylines to take in, and beautifully decorated hotels like the Venetian, Bellagio and Caesar’s Palace dropping jaws.

Unfortunately, with the monorail down we were forced to walk almost everywhere, and probably covered 10 miles a day just going from hotel to hotel and back again. Although they look close, the hotels are so massive that everything is a lot farther away than it looks.

While not quite family friendly yet – Mexicans stand on street corners handing out pornographic calling cards and newsletters advertising escorts, and you can get all of your alcoholic drinks "to go" – there are a lot of other ways to spend your money than gambling. Whether it’s a paid tour of the MGM lion habitat or a look through the Boston Art Gallery’s travelling Monet exhibit, Vegas literally has something for everyone.

Like Whistler, Vegas took a post-9/11 nosedive, but is recovering quite nicely. Two massive new wings for hotels are nearing completion, the airport is being renovated and more construction is being planned.

On the Saturday night we were there, many of those massive hotels were actually sold out, aided by the 20,000-person American Association of Retired Persons annual conference.

Apparently Paris Hilton was also in town that weekend celebrating her birthday with a large entourage. Although we didn’t cross paths with her, we did see Hustler kingpin Larry Flynt being pushed through the Bellagio. Motocross legend Seth Enslow was at a $300 minimum blackjack table in the same hotel, and I’m pretty sure I saw NHL’er Steve Thomas there, taking a break from the picket lines.

Whistler has nothing on Vegas, and for that I’m actually glad. Still, I wish there were more to do in Whistler than to drink and line up to drink some more. A casino would be an awesome idea, as long as the profits went back to the municipality and local charities.

More attractions would be even better – I don’t think a roller coaster would be very popular on a winter day, but we’re probably the only ski town in the world without a real toboggan hill or an outdoor skating rink. And why couldn’t we have a fountain display like the Bellagio in the summer months, or host a show or performance for longer than three days?

Yeah, yeah, Whistler’s value is in its scenic beauty and most people do come here to relax and recreate, but visitors are going to start expecting more.

At least, the ones that have been to Las Vegas.