Vegas Baby! Part 1

These photos was taken on the way to Las Vegas, from the plane. My journey to Vegas actually started on a train. A Central Line train to be precise. I was making my usual journey home from work, about two years ago, accompanied by my journey-home-from-work friend, Lincoln Hudson. And he said these words to me: “I’ve had an idea, Fluffy.” A few things - Firstly, Fluffy was what he called me. Always. Partly due to my mess of blonde curls, that fluffs up like a golden halo in certain light, and partly because of my inability to hold a grudge and/or handle confrontation. I have a fluffy personality. I am a fluffy. Secondly, Lincoln and I had an entirely unlikely friendship. I was a twenty-one year old girl - torn between a desire to live my youth and party hard, and a need to take care of myself and drink green tea, and read, in bed. He was old enough to be my dad - and he was a dad, in fact, to a beautiful, charming baby girl. I think it was his frustrated paternal instinct that first made him take an interest in me. He not only provided a friendly ear, advice on my fractured love life and words of flattery and encouragement - he also directly got my career going, by getting me on Spotlight and nagging me to email agents. He is single-handedly responsible for everything I’m proud of, from the past two years. Those adverts over Christmas 2016? Thanks to Lincoln. The short films I’ve done? Lincoln. The stage projects with the East London Shakespeare Comapny? All him. The two auditions I had the day before my flight? Yep. You guessed it. If I drew him to me with my ingenuity and naivety, he equally intrigued me with his humorous charm, wisdom and charisma. Along with travelling home together, from work, we’d grab coffee or lunch together at least twice a week. During which, we’d discuss everything. From career stuff, to relationship stuff, to mental health stuff, to our pasts, to our hopes for the future. So, when people - both close friends and family - wondered why I would blow my savings on what seems, objectively, like a hedonistic few days of adventures... they were right. I primarily booked the flights to have fun. It was for thoroughly selfish reasons. I wanted to see the show that we had discussed and explored in those coffee dates. I wanted to meet his friends. I wanted to see the beloved family-friends I had stayed with in NYC - who happened to be in the city the exact week the show was on there... I also wanted a week of escapism, to run away from the monotony and/or stressful nature of my day-to-day. And where better to get that than among larger-than-life hotel complexes, and replicas of world monuments? So sue me. I also wanted closure. Lincoln died so suddenly - I was expecting news of his theatrical triumph, via Facebook, rather than of his sudden death. Lincoln was not quite a father-figure, not quite a brother, not quite a husband-of-twenty-years, not quite just-a-friend. As anyone who has ever met him can probably confirm, Lincoln was one of life’s givers. Having Lincoln as a friend meant that he would give you... whatever you needed that day. He also made me so much more comfortable with my sexuality, and therein my identity in general - talking to me about his super-femme bisexual ex-wife, and reassuring me that who I am is enough, and if people can’t accept me, then that’s on them. Lincoln was an amazing human being. When I found out about his passing, I cried for two days. I wanted to... commemorate him, somehow. And fulfill my original promise to come see his one-man show. And my life - consisting of work and the occasional audition - needs the occasional break. I decided to kill both birds with one stone, and see the show in Vegas, where he had lived and died.

I flew with Virgin Atlantic. I got a bargain , at £450 (the next-cheapest I found was £750!!) And I would definitely recommend them: they gave me a (delicious) vegetarian meal, even though I’d forgotten to ask for one in advance. And an incredible air hostess (named Candice) gave me a free glass of champagne! She was my favourite. The flight was incredible, taking me from patchwork fields, to icy mountains, to golden desert. When the plane started to bank to one side, to line up with the runway, the glittering towers of the Vegas strip started to come into view and my heart leapt up into my throat.

And I started writing this post! My first mission, once I landed, was to track down and meet with my Vegas hosts - Lincoln’s friends, Byron and Gloria. Over the course of a few years of solo trips, I have long since learned the benefits of packing light, taking only a carry-on case, and I was reminded of these as I power-walked past all the people queueing at Baggage Claim! Byron was waiting for me just outside the pick-up area. As I walked out of the airport doors, I was smacked full in the face by a wall of dry warmth that I hadn’t felt for over a decade - since the last time, as a child, I had visited this part of the world. The air smelled of petrol and dust. I was in the desert. I was a little apprehensive about meeting up with Byron for the first time - staying with strangers is always a little intimidating, but, on the other hand, a friend of Lincoln’s is a friend of mine, and Lincoln had always spoken so highly of him that I had no doubt that we’d get on like a house on fire! Sure enough, Byron was as warm and welcoming as could possibly be wished.

You have arrived at your destination! Gloria was also unbelievably lovely, and the pair adopted me instantly. I was charmed by their wonderful house full of theatre memorabilia and adorable pets; If I ever get lucky enough to own my own house, this is exactly what it will look like! The dogs came straight up to me to make friends, wagging their tails, and even the pigeons that haunt the garden were keen - landing on my outstretched hand as if I were a Disney princess!

North Star Bar and Grill Our first stop was Byron’s local cheap-eat, and well kept Vegas secret: the North Star Bar and Grill. Having had nothing but airplane food for the last twelve hours, I was ravenous. Even the burger menu was expansive and spectacular, but in the end I went for one that came with guacamole and jalapeños. Needless to say, I was one happy (if exhausted, as I had started to feel the jet-lag and airplane-champagne-hangover!) bunny.

First-look Vegas!

Byron also drove me on a tour of a few of the city’s iconic sights. It’s not hard to spot the strip from miles around, and the city is laid out in that logical criss-cross way that American cities are. The pop-art towers fade slowly into quiet suburbs, and the whole valley is caged in by majestic red Nevada mountains. We popped in to a supermarket, too, to grab a few bits (bananas, almond milk and lip balm!) and I was predictably loud and over-excitable! One of my favourite things to do in a different country is to wander round a supermarket. Luckily they found my strange happy squeakings endearing! That first night I settled down to sleep in a gloriously comfortable four-poster bed, to the friendly sound of the ceiling fan.

The next morning, I was more than ready to go exploring the strip on my own. I donned my shorts (I was going to get tanned legs this trip so HELP me.) and comfy marathon-running trainers. But Byron said something that stopped me in my tracks: he offered to drop me on the strip on the way to visit David Shaunessey, the actor playing Lincoln’s creation Ronnie Brixton, to run lines. There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this, as if he knew what was coming, and when I asked him whether he’d be okay with me tagging along, he instantly got on board with the idea! Watching David run his lines was a great experience. Bits of the monologue that I remembered hearing from Lincoln over coffee, or on the tube, came back to me with a bittersweet sharpness. And I was reminded me how flexible and mentally nimble you need to be as an actor when Byron talked him through new cuts and changes to the script! That night, I went with Byron to watch the show for the first time. I think I was far more nervous than David; my sweaty palms, which shook the hands of various producers, crew and friends of Byron’s, were nothing to do with the heat.

Ronnie Brixton The show was beyond brilliant, and I was endlessly proud - both of my old friend, and the people I had only just met! Needless to say, by this point the jet lag was really kicking in, so I was happy to collapse back into that sturdy four-poster. Day 2 (exploring the strip, and seeing RB again) up soon! All my love, Char Xxx