I spent the weekend in Seattle with my mom, and while we were there, we did all the usual Seattle things.

We walked Pike’s Market.  We took pictures from the Space Needle.  And we saw a giant 26-foot high, 8-ton status of Anubis floating on a barge through Portage Bay.

Wait, what?

Stay with me here…

The annual opening of boating season in Seattle was this weekend, and it’s always celebrated with a number of special events, including a boat parade on Lake Union.

But this year’s parade, titled “Porthole to Paradise”, included one truly unique addition.

This year, a 26-foot, 8-ton statue of Anubis was part of the parade.

The huge Anubis statue was arriving in Seattle as a part of the upcoming Tutankhamun: The Golden King and the Great Pharaohs exhibit, which opens at the Pacific Science Center on May 24.

It’s the final U.S. showing of the exhibition that has been traveling the country showcasing ancient treasures on loan from Egypt since 2008.

Yeah, that giant sculpture floating through the bay is an ancient treasure on loan from Egypt.

And here’s your mini history lesson of the day: Anubis is the Greek name of the mythical creature from the Book of the Dead, which determines a dead person’s worth by weighing the heart.  Ancient Egyptians also believed he guided souls and oversaw mummy embalming.

It was transported into Seattle aboard a 72-foot long barge.

A 26-foot-high, 8-ton, Egyptian jackal-headed protector of the afterlife floating through the bay: Truly one of the most unique things I’ve seen during my travels.

I thought I was fairly experienced when it came to road trips, but it turns out I’m barely keeping up with the rest of Americans.

A recent survey of 2,262 adults by Expedia and Harris Interactive found that 41 percent of Americans have driven cross-country at least once in their lives.

Forty-one percent!

And another 25% of men and 33% of women say they have not driven across the country yet but “always wanted to.”

That second group is the one I fall into.

Although, some friends and I drove from Los Angeles to Vancouver, British Columbia two years ago to go to the 2010 Winter Games.  I suppose that could sort of count as “across the country.”  Driving vertically across the U.S. is legit, right?

Doing an actual West-to-East road trip has always been a dream of mine.

Just a few pesky things keep getting in the way.  Things like time and money.  And the rate gas prices keep climbing isn’t helping the situation.

But now that I know that almost half of America has already beat be to the punch, I’m a little more motivated.

So what group do you fall into?  Have you been there, done that?  Do you want to take a cross-country road trip but just haven’t gotten around to it yet?  Or are road trips just not your thing?

By the way, if you’re thinking about taking a road trip soon, be sure to check out our Ultimate Road Trip Playlist.  It’s 50 of the best songs to keep you pumped, awake and entertained on your next long drive.

A new Las Vegas attraction is part gun range, part ultra-lounge.

Machine Guns Vegas opened this week and aims to provide people with “a uniquely Las Vegas firearms experience.”

They’ve combined the look and feel of a hip Vegas ultra-lounge with the functionality of a state of the art indoor gun range.

Customers at MGV can choose from an array of firearms, including pistols, fully automatic machine guns, historical guns, and even one-of-a-kind Navy SEAL weapons.

Co-owner Genghis Cohen originally came to Las Vegas from New Zealand to open Tabu, a trendy lounge in the MGM Grand hotel.

MGV features leather furniture, hardwood floors and even a group of NRA-certified female hosts called “Gun Girls” to provide training.

Shooters can choose from several packages such as:

•  The Femme Fatale, which costs $90 per person and includes use of the Uzi any handgun.

•  The Mob, which costs $100 per person and includes shotguns and Tommy guns.

•  SEAL Team VI, which is $130 to $160, and includes M-60 machine guns and other weapons used in the operation that killed Osama bin Laden.

•  And the Compound for a whopping $699 per person.  This “VIP experience” includes the use of 16 different firearms, including handguns and semi- and full-automatic weapons, use of a private lounge and firing lanes, and complimentary refreshments.

Oh and of course, no alcohol is served on the premises.

MGV – Machine Guns Vegas is located at 3501 Aldebaran Avenue, Las Vegas, Nevada, 89102.

I loved my time in Prague, but the only thing “dark” about it was the beer consumed at U Fleků.

A travel agency is changing that by creating tours that specifically spotlight the dark side of the Czech capital.

Corrupt Tour’s “Best of the Worst” trips take tourists to places tied to corruption and scandals that have plagued the country’s political life.

The Czech Republic, like other formerly communist countries, has undergone a profound economic and political transformation over the last two decades.

But government corruption still exists, and Corrupt Tours wants to bring attention to it.

One popular tour takes tourists around the lavish, closed-off estates of businessmen linked to big state orders.  Others center around City Hall and construction sites that have tied up millions of dollars of taxpayer money.

The popular tours are are offered in Czech, English and German, and are elling out a week in advance.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

That’s the clever phrase the Las Vegas Visitor Authority coined to encapsulate the sexy naughtiness of their adult playground in the desert.

I go to Vegas, on average, three or four times a year.  Living in Los Angeles, the 275-mile drive can be done in less than four hours, and because the city has been saddled with a glut of hotel rooms ever since the recession started, it’s one of the easiest and cheapest weekend getaway options.

But I’ve never really understood the whole “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” thing.  Usually when I go to Vegas, the only thing that stays there is a couple hundred bucks lost at the blackjack or craps table.

That all changed this past weekend, when I invaded Sin City with five of my closest friends for a bachelorette party.

It was a trip unlike any of the others preceding it.

I’m contractually obligated to not reveal specific details.  C’mon, that would totally defeat the whole “…stays in Vegas” thing.

But I get it now.

Over the span of 36 hours, our experience included, but was not limited to: the Cirque du Soleil show Zumanity, Marquee nightclub, an all-night talk with a random stranger, a lost cell phone, a lost ID, a German stripper, phallus cupcakes, a blowup doll, a ripped and see-through dress, a limousine, exposed body parts, bottle service at Tryst, dancing on the table, making out, and getting naked in the hotel elevator.  And that’s just the stuff I CAN talk about!

Delicious baked goods and dollar bills. Totally wholesome!

For most of those experiences, I was simply a spectator.  But my perception of Vegas, and humanity in general, may never be the same.

It was wild.  It was crazy.  It was exhausting.  It was embarrassing at times.  It was a weekend I will NEVER forget.  But most of all, it was unbelievably fun.

Next month, when I see these girls again, it will be the day of the wedding.  I assume we’ll exchange some knowing glances, some sly smiles, and won’t speak a single word about any of it.

He got his degree in chemistry. I know because I asked.

When I got the chance to spend a week in South Africa’s “mother city” I was extremely excited at the prospect of all the amazing animals and bird life I’d see.

My first port of call was to see those elegant little birds in tuxedos.  Who doesn’t love penguins?

And Cape Town’s Boulders Beach is one of the best places to find them.

Slightly nervous that these cute little water birds would be shy, I was assured that my concerns were unnecessary and I would certainly see some on my day out.

I shouldn’t have worried at all.

There I was, lounging on the beach beneath the warm African sun and looking out at the glittering Indian Ocean when two short shadows fell across my legs. When I looked over, expecting to see perhaps a couple of small children playing near my towel, I found a pair of penguins just meandering towards the ocean for a dip.

While there are some 27 locations where these little guys live along the cape coast, they are still endangered. But don’t let that stop you from popping along to swim alongside them in the ocean at Boulders Bay.

Next was a day with the Big 5.

I headed out with a friend with a car through the stunning wine lands to Sanbona Wildlife Reserve.  The drive is some 3.5 hours so an overnight stay is certainly worth the effort.

This park has everything, and the afternoon game drive we caught after our arrival was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I’ve always loved photography and thank goodness for the invention of the digital camera, because there wouldn’t have been enough film in an entire suitcase to cover the amount of pictures I took while riding in the back of that Jeep.

Lions, giraffes, elephants, springboks, steenboks, even a white rhino, to name a few, graced us with their presence.

Best of all for me were the cheetahs, which brings me to my last stop.

Statuesque when still and so elegant and sleek as they athletically run over the plains, and I defy anyone not to melt when they look at a cheetah’s warm sad face with their black tear stripes running down from the eyes.

Not satisfied with seeing them from a distance, I wanted to get up close.

As we drove back towards Cape Town we took a minor detour to the Spier Wine Farm near Stellenbosch, home to an outreach Cheetah Sanctuary. Not only did we enjoy the most incredible meal at the winery, but I actually got to play with a 6-month old cub – definitely the highlight of an utterly animaltasic week.

You can see more photos from Cape Town on this page.

Liah S Thorley is a travel writer for MyDestination.com/CapeTown and novelist from the UK. She has travelled extensively and particularly enjoys history and the arts.

The Sahara Hotel and Casino in Vegas is set to close in May, and man I’m going to miss that dump.  Sure, it was old and dingy.  Sure, it was a little off the beaten path.  Sure, I always checked the closet, the shower, and underneath the bed for dead bodies and/or murderers anytime I stayed there.  But, you know what, it was cheap.  And in a city that’s dominated by overpriced billion-dollar resorts, I appreciated Sahara’s value.

You never knew what you'd find when you stayed at Sahara

Perhaps I’m more sentimental about Sahara because it’s where I stayed for my 21st birthday in 2004 (which also happened to be the weekend of the Kentucky Derby).  And again to celebrate New Year’s Eve in 2006.  And still once again over a long Memorial Day weekend last year.  I guess what I’m saying is that Sahara was always there for me when I couldn’t AFFORD to stay anywhere else.  Rooms at the big-name Strip resorts were running more than $400 a night for New Year’s weekend, while I got THREE nights at the Sahara for less than half that total.  And you know what?  I kind of enjoyed making up stories about where each knife slash and stain in the carpet came from. 

These slashes were clearly from a drug deal gone awry...

Ok, so maybe it was annoying that the TV never seemed to work properly, and, yeah, I was always a little scared that the elevator was going to give out at any time, and okay fine, the NASCAR-themed stuff in the lobby wasn’t really for me.  But having $1 blackjack available right downstairs was a treat worth making sacrifices for.  The dealers and the clientele weren’t stuffy like any of the other Strip hotels.  I had some of the most interesting conversations of my life while playing table games at the Sahara.

I'm pretty sure we upgraded to the "Deluxe" tower to get this sweet pad

It wasn’t luxurious, but it was always fun.  And in Vegas, that’s really all I’m looking for.  So it’s with a heavy heart that I bid farewell to my OG Strip hotel.  Thanks for the memories…

When you think of states you’re dying to visit in your lifetime, where exactly does Delaware rank?  For me, it was somewhere above Montana and below Rhode Island.  And yet, for some reason, I just returned from a weekend in The First State.

I didn’t know much about Delaware going in other than the fact that it’s shaped like a more-svelte version of Idaho, and the Tea Party witch Christine O’Donnell was from there.  So when I was invited to spend a weekend in Bethany and Rehoboth Beach in southern Delaware, I couldn’t refuse.

Delaware was everything I imagined it to be… which is to say, not much.  After nearly 40 hours in the state, I still don’t know anything about Delaware.  Except for maybe on key thing:  It’s fantastic for shopping.  See, Delaware is only one of five states in the U.S. that doesn’t impose a sales tax on retail goods.  When you combine that with the MECCA of outlet shopping… Rehoboth Beach… it’s game over.  I was hooked after I stepped into the first store.  I’ll never look at a Macy’s the same way again.

Besides outlets, southern Delaware is known for it’s beaches and boardwalks.  We spent the afternoon at Rehoboth Beach, but walking along the boardwalk left a lot to be desired.  The busy season doesn’t officially begin for another few weeks, so about half the stores were closed.  But, when you’ve just spent the afternoon walking through aisle after aisle of factory-discounted merchandise, it didn’t really matter that a few full-price stores were closed.  Come May, this place will be insane.

In the end, I’m grateful to have been given the chance to visit a state that probably should have taken me at least another 20 years to get crossed off my bucket list.  I’m leaving Delaware with an appreciation for tax-free shopping, a discerning eye for deals, and the ability to say “I’ve been to Delaware.” What more could you ask for?

After spending several days in New Orleans for New Year’s,  it’s difficult to piece everything together in a coherent and/or chronological manner.  Fortunately the photographic evidence of our visit isn’t incriminating.  Here are some thoughts and pictures from our time in New Orleans…

***

There isn’t much to do in New Orleans beyond the French Quarter.  Okay, that’s not fair, there is stuff — some parks and a zoo — but nothing special enough to risk getting mugged or killed to see (yes, it really is that dangerous).  Since the French Quarter is really the only thing that’s specific and unique to New Orleans, you’ll spend a lot of time there — as we did.

There’s two ways you can go with this: drink your ass off or learn some history.  The drinks will find you.  You have to find the history.  Since people usually go with the route of less work, drinking takes precedence.

But we’re equal opportunists — and multi-taskers! — so we took the booze with us and went searching for the back stories, not a difficult thing to do when every street features a plaque detailing some interesting history. 

Take, for instance, the Le Pretre Mansion, where in 1839, a Turkish man, who was the brother of a sultan, was found dead in ritualistic fashion alongside a bevy of young beautiful women that the Turk apparently stole from the sultan.  Their murders remain an unsolved mystery (though using our detective skills, we’ll venture a guess and say it was the sultan) and some people say you can still hear the screams of the victims on some nights.

Then there’s the LaBranche House, which is considered the most photographed house in all the French Quarter.  Since that’s the case, here’s another to add to the collection.

This is the Le Monnier Mansion, the first “skyscraper” in the French Quarter.  Just look at it scraping the sky four stories high.

Since you can get kind of bogged down with details about unfamiliar historical figures, it’s just fun to walk through the French Quarter and admire the architecture and the ironwork on the balconies without fear of being vomited on (that’s specific to Bourbon Street, which is aesthetically the least attractive, but most fun, street in the French Quarter anyway).

***

People on the East Coast travel to Atlantic City to drink, gamble and party.  West Coasters head to Las Vegas.  Southerners and Mid-westerners go to New Orleans.

But the great thing about New Orleans is that it’s a condensed version of both of those cities.  You don’t have to take a taxi to strip club or wander from bar to bar at the hotels, all your vices are conveniently located on Bourbon Street.  That makes it so much easier, and so much more dangerous.  Because inevitably you’ll wind up smashed — and broke — much faster.

***

We only saw three — count ‘em, THREE — nude breasts on Bourbon Street. That’s one and a half women, or just one three-boobed girl from Total Recall.

Oddly, we saw a lot of nude man-boobs. The tradition of flashing for beads has now been adopted by men. Perhaps it’s to guide women who are confused about how to obtain beads by sacrificing their integrity, or men just like cheap plastic beads as a fashion statement.

***

You can’t walk down Bourbon Street without seeing people drinking a hand grenade.  It’s supposedly the strongest drink available (though we’re pretty sure the smoothies made with Everclear are much more potent), which is why it’s also the most popular.  Plus, any drink that comes in a device that looks like a weapon is good in our book.

But the drink we loved the most is an overlooked little treasure called The Shark Attack.  It’s not just the ingredients that make this drink great, it’s also the production value.  When you order a Shark Attack, the bartender furiously rings a bell, flicks on a siren and alerts everyone to “get out of the water!”  Then he takes a plastic toy shark, fills it with grenadine and jams it into a cup, making it look as if the shark just brutally killed someone.  Something tells us that a real shark attack isn’t this fun.

Another drink that is exclusive to New Orleans is sazerac, a combination of cognac, rye whiskey and absinthe. Yes, it’s just as strong as it sounds. But it’s a much more refined drink you’d find in a classy bar away from Bourbon Street.

***

We don’t know how people eat Cajun and Creole food on a regular basis.  Even more confusing is how they stay alive past 28 years of age.

The food in New Orleans, while delicious, is frighteningly dense.  If it’s not fried, it’s made with five sticks of butter.

Famous charbroiled oyster at Acme Oyster House

We felt disgustingly unhealthy and bogged down after every meal, which included gumbo, jambalaya, pasta, fries with gravy, fried seafood, muffuletta sandwiches and po boy sandwiches.

At one point we needed a break to eat something healthy and combat the ill effects of eating all that dense food.  Finding a restaurant that serves food even remotely healthy was a challenge in and of itself.  We finally came upon a sandwich shop near our hotel that served salads.

So I ordered a tuna salad… which the woman behind the counter made with her bare hands… immediately after washing down a counter with a dirty rag.  We’re positive that there is no such thing as a health standards office in Louisiana.

Beignets at Cafe du Monde

***

You know a city is dangerous when you receive more than one warning from the locals.  For the most part we heard a simple “stay safe” or “be careful.”  But this one lady who saw us walking down St. Charles, a busy thoroughfare by the way, came right up to us and without even introducing herself or saying hi went right into this: “What you need to do is take that camera off your neck and hide it in your sweater, because someone will come up to you and hit you and steal your camera.  And they’ll steal whatever else you got too.  So don’t be looking around like you’ve never seen any of this before.  You keep your eyes forward, act like you know where you is and hide your valuables.”  How comforting.

Honestly, out of all the cities we’ve visited, New Orleans has been the only city where we constantly felt unsafe.  This sign didn’t help any…

***

Speaking of St. Charles, the ride on the street cars is a lot of fun… if you can get on them.  If you don’t get on at the first or last stop, you’re not getting on; tourists remain on the street car for the entire ride up and down St. Charles.  And since nobody gets off, nobody gets on.

***

Voodoo is awesome.  Why put effort into having someone fall in love with you when you can just put a spell on them?  It’s the lazy person’s way of getting what they want.

But now it’s mainly a tourist trap.  The French Quarter is littered with voodoo shops selling potions, spell packets, puppets, masks, candles and other fascinating and bizarre artifacts for people who are curious about voodoo but too scared to mess with the real thing.

On the other hand, people who truly believe in voodoo head to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 to visit the graves of Marie Laveau and her daughter of the same name, both of whom were high priestesses in Louisiana voodoo.  It’s said that if you place an offering and write three X’s on their tomb, your wish will be granted.

Some of the offerings were just silly, like Blockbuster membership cards, a Walmart gift card, empty bottles of beer, dead batteries, beads… but the one offering that really freaked us out was a dead snake.

Everyone knows that when you sacrifice an animal, your wish is always fulfilled.

***

We stayed at this really nice hotel called The Roosevelt, which had beautiful holiday decorations set up in the lobby.

As classy as that was, we couldn’t get over the fact that the tile on the floor looked like boobs.

***

When the New Year’s crowd left, fans of Arkansas and Ohio State took over the city for the Sugar Bowl.  Suddenly the streets were overrun with unfamiliar chants and confusing terminology.  The fans seemed to get along despite rooting for different teams, but we felt completely out of place.

But that didn’t stop us from attending an Arkansas pep rally at the Sugar Bowl Fan Fest.  We’ve never watched an Arkansas football game, let alone even been to the state of Arkansas, but this was such a random opportunity for two people from Southern California that we couldn’t pass it up.  Plus, we got to see the Sugar Bowl trophy, which was of no significance to us, but still impressed us with how important it looked.

***

In all honesty, we stayed way longer in New Orleans than we should have.  Two days is a perfect amount of time to check out the opulent houses in the Garden District, walk the French Quarter, drink the night away on Bourbon Street and recover for half a day before going out one last time in an attempt to accumulate as many beads as possible.  Just make sure to bring a Power Bar to offset all that Cajun cuisine.

After our road trip to Sedona and Tucson, the plan was to drive home as quick as possible.  No breaks, no rest stops, just get there.

Everything was going according to plan… for about an hour.  Then we saw this sign:

“Feed the ostriches”

Ostriches?  Those goofy looking things!  We had never seen an ostrich outside of cartoons when we were kids, so we immediately pulled off highway.

The signs got better and better.  “Feed the deer.”  “Feed the lorikeets.”  “Feed the donkeys.”

The Rooster Cogburn Ostrich Ranch in Picacho, Arizona sounded like paradise!  And it was… until we met the ostriches.

Ostriches are officially the a-holes of the animal kingdom.  Not that we blame them.  If we looked like a giraffe-turkey hybrid, we’d be pissed at the world too.

They’re not graceful at all.  There’s no delicacy in anything they do.  You know how small birds peck at food?  Well, imagine a 7-foot tall bird doing that.  Then suddenly those pecks go from cute to terrifying.

Here’s an example…

Cute:

Terrifying:

See!?

They don’t kindly and carefully take the food out of your hand.  They lunge at it.  And they pretty much miss every time.  So you have this big, powerful beak attached to a long, gawky neck that towers over you, and it’s pecking at you without any firm direction or regard for your safety.

It’s pretty cool to say we’ve actually fed an ostrich — how many people can say that they did that and didn’t lose a finger? — but it was a freakishly jarring experience.

The other animals were way more our style.

We fed the deer.

And the donkeys.

And the goats.

Notice how calm, cooperative and non-bitey they are?

However, the highlight was definitely the rainbow lorikeets.

We would totally go out of our way to visit this place again, especially to go on their monster truck tour.  But next time, the closest we get to the ostrich… is the ostrich jerky.