Las Vegas, NV

Finally, a decent sleep; all six hours of it. But at least I'm reasonably refreshed. Today I was meant to drive back to LA, drop the car at the airport and fly home with four features in four different publications covering three different artists done and dusted. It hasn’t quite worked out like that. However, overnight I’ve had confirmation from the UK office that heading to Vegas is now the best option so I get in touch with Duff and Jacqui to make arrangements to hit the road.

Our return flight is now changed to Thursday if British airspace reopens and with a firm plan now in place, we’re all quite relieved. However we’re all snowed under with work and it’s a good three hours before I can pack the laptop away, check out and drive across to the Comfort Suites, on the other side of Palm Desert. Jacqui is still filing copy for The Sun as I arrive, her deadlines looming with inexorable haste.

Vincent, last night’s cab driver, had suggested a different route to Vegas avoiding the worst of the traffic-clogged freeways, so I plug in the first town on the route to the SatNav and off we go, 350 miles ahead of us along Highway 62, past Joshua Tree and 29 Palms to the Yucca Valley and across the Mojave desert. Up we climb into the mountains heading towards Pioneertown, Jacqui in the driving seat while I finish off emails on the blackberry and snatch photos of the landscape as we speed along.

We stop at a gas station in a two-horse town to fill up. The heavily tattooed woman behind the counter informs us we can stop in Pioneertown for lunch at Pappy & Harriet’s Palace, "the only restaurant up that way". As we climb higher the scenery is staggering. Massive blue skies, rocky desert outcrops, palms trees and narrow windy roads fill the emptiness and soon we arrive at Pappy’s. It’s closed!

By this point I’m in need of a loo so Duff and I go for a little wander around the deserted town, which is a reconstructed old Western-style main street complete with saloon, jail, bank, general store, hay wagons and so on. We walk into the livery shop, filled with saddles and the smell of leather, to find a grizzled guy with a beard and shades who lets us use his portable toilet.

Back in the car we continue on along Pipes Canyon Rd heading towards Nevada. Once over the mountains vast desert plains open up before us, dotted with little shacks and the odd signpost. Traffic intermittently passes us as we drive along endless straight lines, marvelling at the great big wide open surrounding us.

After about 45 minutes we reach Old Woman Springs, a town at a crossroads in the Lucerne Valley. There’s a few buildings including a diner called Cafe 247 where we get chicken burritos and a taco salad. Hardly gourmet cuisine but it hits the spot. As we drive we discuss what we’ll do in Vegas. Jacqui and I have both been before – I took her there on a press trip in 2006 and she’s been back a few times since, including to get married last summer – but it’s Duff’s first time. A few emails are fired off to people who may be able to sort us tickets for a show to keep us entertained. From a quick internet search we narrow the options down to Barry Manilow, Tony Bennett or Cher.

Jacqui, who has interviewed Barry Manilow in the past, whacks on her Ipod and we play a bit of Bazza in the car to get in the mood but then a reply comes in telling us he's having a week off, so we instantly pull the plug on Manilow and pop on LCD Soundsystem and then Gorillaz instead having had them in our heads since the weekend. We decide to keep our fingers crossed for some passes to Cher at Caesar's Palace which would be amazing!!

Soon we pull over and swap drivers. Jacqui has a snooze in the back while I take the wheel and put Duff on music duties. He scrolls through my Ipod blasting out rock music he loves; Tool, Young Gods, The Bolshoi, Siouxsie & The Banshees, Stone Temple Pilots, The God Machine, Pop Will Eat Itself and then taking me totally by surprise, some Take That. Both admit we'd have loved to have seen them play live last year, blowing our rock credentials right out of the water!

As we drive along Highway 15 for the last 150 miles we get more traffic and strange billboards by the side of the road. A series of signs spell out the Ten Commandments and then just a mile later we’re exhorted by a billboard to buy guns! Familiar names pepper the road signs including Death Valley and Salt Lake City, only some 500 miles away through the vast wilderness.

As we near Las Vegas strange isolated hotels and waterparks dot the roadside followed by an enormous fashion outlet housing discount stores from Louis Vuitton, Gap and more, straddling the highway in the far distance like Emerald City. From first appearing on the horizon to actually reaching it takes 20minutes. We zoom past and then it slowly recedes in the rearview mirror, the only thing on a huge dusty plain for miles and miles. Obviously people round here like to drive into the desert to buy their jeans.

It’s 5.30pm by the time we reach Las Vegas and to complete the surreal turn our trip has taken I drive us up the Strip past all the sights so Duff can get his first taste of the madness and excess that is Sin City. We head past all the mammoth hotels – the Bellagio, Paris, the Wynn, Circus Circus, New York, Sahara, the Flamingo and all the rest – before reaching downtown and the wedding chapels. Jacqui points out the Little White Chapel where she got married. It’s also been home to weddings by various celebrities including Britney Spears, Joan Collins and Peaches Geldof, all now divorced as Jacqui points out.

We turn around and drive back to the MGM Grand where we are staying, one of the largest hotels on the Strip. Rooms are $80 a night, rather than the $180 we’d be paying if we returned to Los Angeles, but unfortunately the receptionist (one of about 30 on duty in the vast lobby) can’t find our bookings. I get through to our US travel team and after a torturous 45 minutes of negotiation we’re finally checked in and are given a free cocktail pass for Rouge, one of the bars, to make up for our troubles.

Dumping our bags in our rooms, we take advantage of the free drink and go and get some dinner. Duff can’t pass the thousands of slot machines without popping a dollar in. He wins $5 immediately, a dangerous precedent and on the way back pops a few dollars on the roulette table. This time he wins $90. Hmmm, if this keeps up looks like our stay could pay for itself, with a tidy profit left over!!

Tired after the long day we decide to aim for an early night for once but first head to my room to watch the news and catch up on the travel situation. Our reasonably buoyant mood is soon crushed by pictures of the Icelandic volcano spewing huge new clouds of ash and very pessimistic reports about further flight delays. I turn in convinced we’re not going home anytime soon!!