It’s hard to imagine a place in the universe so densely populated with entertainment as the fabulous six-mile stretch of real estate on the Las Vegas strip. Entire cities are recreated and housed in Castle-like hotels and casinos. Here Paris, France and New York City can be found across the street from one another, only a brisk walk from the cathedral like facade of the Grand Central terminal to the romantic confines of the sleek Eiffel tower.
Las Vegas buzzes with childlike abandon at all hours, beckoning its masses to put their collective worries and concerns aside. To relax, to enjoy, to be pampered – to wine and to dine, to dance and to sing, to laugh and to play, to let go and be consumed by the glitter and the glow of its overwhelming charm.
There are too many hotels to mention, too many sights and sounds to take in, too many senses to be overloaded by. It is a testament to the human imagination — the mini paradise that is Las Vegas, and like a child with a tummy ache after being given permission to feast at a candy store, I would recommend highly for any visitor to pace themselves. You wouldn’t want to spoil your supper now would you?
Not everyone however would choose to subject themselves to such an overload on vacation, I recommend, not unlike the basic principle of commuting from the big city to the friendly confines of peaceful suburbia, a vacation alternative just 20 minutes from the hustle and screams of Las Vegas hysteria.
The Green Valley Ranch, Hotel, Spa and resort seems like the perfect fit. The ranch has all the amenities and services needed for the most discerning vacationer. The resort attends to its guests with unspoken special touches and an impeccable service philosophy. I was particularly impressed with the sprawling expanse of land surrounding the property, acre after acre of manicured magnificence allowing for a truly unique, relaxing experience.
The resort boasts an outdoor recreation area spanning more than eight acres and overlooking the Las Vegas strip. Manicured lawns and trees separate private cabanas and infinity-edge dipping pools. I was quite impressed with the constant upkeep of the sandy beach surrounding the pool’s edges. They made it work, and magnificently.
You don’t have to look far to find a friendly face or a kind voice to help you enjoy your stay here. Everyone from the concierge to the bellhops were warm and considerate, overly hospitable to the point of alarm.
It was quite an experience to discover the hotels “Turn Down Service” while inhabiting one of their luxurious rooms. The maids seem to know precisely when you are not in your room and in turn, enter to unloosen the taut hospital corners of the bedsheets and provide bottled water, energy drinks and thank you notes on the pillows. This was quite new to me and had induced a somewhat playful sense of paranoia: “They know when we are here and not here!” “Why are they following us?” We all got quite a chuckle from that, but only because we were overwhelmed by the sincere appreciation of the pampering on hand.
Not everyone wants to be overloaded by the senses, and the Green Valley Ranch, interestingly enough reminded me more of Palm Springs than the Las Vegas strip. In a city of historical recreations and whirring, it can be quite troublesome to find or to hear an authentic voice within the cities confines. Although majestic, the most authentic voice on the strip came from a Midwestern housewife from St. Louis at a French restaurant in Paris who quite innocently asked the bartender: “When does Desperate Housewives go on around here?”
Back at the Ranch, on my first night, I had ducked away to sneak in a drink at one of its swanky bars and quite innocently asked the bartender: “Do you know of any parties going on tonight?”
He replied: “You know what man, I just want to settle down, meet a nice girl—everynight here is Friday night, everyday is payday, I just want to relax and unwind, be away from all the madness of the strip.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.