Las Vegas, USA

Happy Independence Day. What better place to celebrate America’s birthday than the most excessively American city on the planet?

Vegas hit hard and fast. Within hours of landing we were poolside with drinks in hand, which pretty much set the tone for the entire stay. The days blurred into a cycle of pool parties during the day and nightclubs at night — Surrender, Haze, Marquee. Marquee in particular was absolutely mental. The kind of place where the music is so loud your heartbeat syncs to the bass and everyone around you seems to have an unlimited budget for bottle service. It’s ridiculous and over the top and somehow exactly what you want it to be.

In between the drinking we managed to do the Grand Canyon tour, which should have been the highlight of the trip. And look, it was pretty good. The canyon itself is genuinely jaw-dropping — no photo or video prepares you for the sheer scale of it. But the tour felt rushed and overly automated, like they’d stripped the magic out of it and replaced it with a conveyor belt. You get herded from point to point, given a few minutes to take your photos, then shuffled along to the next spot. I couldn’t help thinking it would’ve been better to hire a car and do it ourselves, take our time, actually sit there and absorb it. Instead it felt like ticking a box. Still glad I saw it, but I’d love to go back one day and do it properly.

The rest of Vegas was exactly what you’d expect. Walking the strip, eating too much, drinking too much, smoking too much. It’s a city that actively encourages terrible decisions and then charges you handsomely for making them. We missed the noon bus on the last day, which caused a bit of chaos — JT had to book a separate flight to make sure he could get out of LA in time for his onward plans. Vegas came and went fast, fuelled by a shitload of alcohol and not nearly enough sleep.

And that was it for JT. After two months of travelling together, he was heading off. It’s a weird moment when someone you’ve been with every day for that long suddenly isn’t there anymore. You get used to the rhythm of travelling with someone — the in-jokes, the shared complaints, the unspoken agreement about when to push on and when to call it a night. JT and I had some times that I reckon we’ll be talking about until the day we die. From South America to Central America to the States, we saw a lot, did a lot, and somehow didn’t kill each other in the process. You can’t ask for much more than that from a travel partner.

So lucky to have experienced all of it. But the trip wasn’t over yet — just entering a new chapter. Solo again.