Hello from Lake Tahoe, everyone. As soon as it’s fully light out, we’ll go see what kind of lake this really is. For now, from the hotel window, it looks like this:
The drive from Las Vegas to South Lake Tahoe was an absolute delight. No cars, plenty of cacti. The asphalt stretches straight into the horizon. Only the last two hours of the trip, already up in the mountains, were a bit nerve-racking. Pitch darkness, steep climbs and descents, and the GPS stubbornly insisting we turn onto a road that didn’t exist. We followed through on our idea of having lunch in the tiniest little town along the way. It was just like in the movies. Unshaven men in plaid shirts and baseball caps. A hefty auntie-type woman comes out of the kitchen. One by one, all the customers asked what language we were speaking. Real redneck America. It’s Nevada, so even a rundown roadside café has a casino. Hanging above the cashier’s barred window was a sign that said, "God bless America." I ordered a salad ($5) and fish and chips ($7.50). The guy raised his eyebrows in surprise, and fifteen minutes later brought me what were basically two washbasins full of food. I’ll write about Vegas separately. It deserves its own post.
Places