Slot machines chime at the airport gates before you find your bag. Downtown, the Golden Gate still rents rooms from its railroad-era beginnings, and old casino signs rest in the Neon Boneyard like a museum of retired stars. On Fremont Street, the casinos switch off their own lights so the canopy overhead can start its show.
Past the neon come quiet suburbs, Arts District galleries and vintage shops, and the sandstone trails of Red Rock Canyon to the west. Summers are long and very hot, winters are short and mild, and the sun shines most of the year. A Local Friend pulls up a chair for you at a downtown counter you would have walked straight past.











