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Vegas is hotter than hell, you could fry a breakfast on the tarmac here and even though we only walked into the hotel minutes ago I’m already sweating and gasping for air like I just ran a marathon. I have never been to this city and I’m already wondering how people can live here. The airport was busy and hazy with heat rising from the ground upon arrival that looked like mysterious, magical dimension aberrations, and I feel like I have literally been turning to a puddle in my clothes since we stepped off the plane. It’s stifling.

Alexi is looking suave in a short-sleeved white shirt, beige chinos and shoes while I’m dripping makeup down my face into my sweater and jeans. I thought it might be a comfortable travelling outfit. It now explains the strange look when I said I was putting a woollen sweater on for the journey. Tosser could have told me it’s three thousand degrees the second you walk off the plane.

Mr Tan never seems to feel the