Travel

I tried to have the queerest, campest long weekend in Las Vegas possible – this is what I did

Apr 01
Written by Marcus Wratten

Las Vegas has the perfect itinerary for queer folk by design. (Visit Las Vegas)

“Do we like rollercoasters?” asked Jordan, our pilot. Before I could answer, our helicopter dropped a dozen feet towards the garish neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip, careering around the High Roller and weaving between the flurry of famed hotels, propped up like cardboard cutouts. My stomach dropped with it.

Luckily, I do love rollercoasters, and Las Vegas is nothing if not an adult amusement park. There’s a reason it’s dubbed America’s Playground. Yet amidst the ka-chinging of the sea of casinos and actual, sky-grazing rollercoasters – at New York, New York hotel and atop The Strat – the desert-based paradise offers up a stacked itinerary of camp and queer entertainment opportunities, almost by design.

On a recent, four-day trip to the ‘Entertainment Capital of the World’, I tried to have the gayest long weekend of my life. When I peered out over the balcony of my 28th floor suite at The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas on day one, and spotted a rainbow beaming out of the Fountains of Bellagio as the sunlight struck during its iconic water display, I had a sneaky feeling I was about to succeed.

The view of the Fountains of Bellagio from The Cosmopolitan. (Visit Las Vegas)

While day one culminated in that stomach-flipping helicopter journey, the evening had begun with some real-life Heated Rivalry, watching the Vegas Golden Knights v. Edmonton Oilers game at the local T-Mobile Arena. I plonked my Pride-branded National Hockey League cap on my head and settled into my seat to ogle at the Boy Aquarium – TikTok users’ way of saying ‘men playing ice hockey’ – and marvelled at the cartoonishly American way the matches are conducted. Outbursts of “Make some noise!!” and visions of dancing tacos are still rippling through my ears and brain days on, but I can’t deny that spotting myself on the Fan Cam towering over the rink elicited anything other than childlike glee.

My boyish wonderment got levelled-up the following morning as we headed off to watch none other than The Wizard of Oz at the Sphere, Vegas’s bulbous new entertainment venue just off the Strip. Opened in 2023, the Sphere has become known for its mammoth music residencies, but the immersive Wizard of Oz screening is a new offering. I felt weepy watching this timeless pop culture classic – one which has had such a seismic impact on the LGBTQ+ community that it spawned some of its lexicon, such as ‘a friend of Dorothy’ – on such a breathtakingly humungous screen. My eyes did then water a little when the 4D tricks started; the gale and leaves set off during the twister scene were no joke.

The Wizard of Oz at the Sphere is a feast for all the senses. (Visit Las Vegas)

Today, Vegas is somewhat comparable to Oz, a synthetic, technicolour world away from real-life where oddballs can go to escape. Historically, too, the city offered something of a refuge for queer folk: in the 1960s, the decade before same-sex activity was legalised in Vegas’s state of Nevada, the Red Barn bar offered an evening safe space for queer people to mingle and be entertained.

Thousands of drag shows were put on there and the venue produced one of the first LGBTQ+ publications in America, before it ultimately closed in the ‘80s. Today, the original sign for the Red Barn is on display at the Neon Museum, a short drive from the Strip, alongside dozens of relics from the city’s storied past. Standing under an 80-foot guitar sign from the original Hard Rock Cafe at the museum’s entrance, I felt like the tiniest cog in the mechanics of the Vegas empire, one of millions who have, and will, experience this bizarre, brilliant entertainment metropolis.

The original Red Barn sign on display at The Neon Museum. (The Neon Museum)

As for drag, that’s moved from precarious underground endeavour to one of the most enduring forms of entertainment on the Strip. Since 2021, RuPaul’s Drag Race Live has taken over the showroom at the Flamingo hotel, featuring a rotating rolodex of Drag Race stars lip-syncing and sashaying for an intimate crowd. On night two, I got to see cherished queens Jorgeous, Lady Camden, Kori King and Aja, flanked by aggressively attractive male dancers, swanning about the stage in sequins and plumes of feathers. A trip highlight, I was both wildly entertained and slightly moved to see what drag has become. When a straight father and his young daughter were invited on stage by host Asia O’Hara, it hit me like a ton of wigs just how much drag means to everyone now, not just queer people.

Asia O’Hara hosts RuPaul’s Drag Race Live in Las Vegas. (Getty)

After the show, I was left wondering if it’s Vegas’s celebration of fabulous women that keeps queer folk coming back time and again. The showgirl, re-populated in recent years by Taylor Swift and Pamela Anderson’s The Last Showgirl, has long been an emblem for all that Vegas is: extravagant; glamorous; captivating. The rich history of the artform is on display at the Las Vegas Showgirl Museum, in a privately owned mansion a short drive from the Strip (describing it as a unique, unforgettable experience feels like an understatement).

Then there’s the diva. On my final night, I got to see the final night of Jennifer Lopez’s Up All Night residency at Caesars Palace, and swiftly learnt why such residencies have become the backbone of the Vegas entertainment economy. I left The Colosseum with my backbone far more brittle than when I entered, thanks to JLo’s hit-crammed setlist, which led to me trying (and failing) to replicate the superstar’s “On The Floor” choreography.

JLo is the latest pop diva to head to Vegas for a residency. (Denise Truscello)

There’s something exclusive about seeing a pop diva take the stage in a city which holds showmanship in such high esteem, like you’re seeing the artist at their pinnacle. It’s no wonder the likes of Celine Dion, Cher, Lady Gaga, and Britney Spears have all helmed such residencies, while Cyndi Lauper, Mary J. Blige and Dolly Parton are all coming to Vegas this year alone.

For fans, it’s a pretty costly endeavour. But the spirit of the diva permeates the entire Strip: before RuPaul’s Drag Race Live, I had a taste of the modern, reality show diva, dining at Lisa Vanderpump’s Vanderpump à Paris Las Vegas restaurant. After the show, I headed to Smelly Cat karaoke bar. Watching a gruff Southern bloke step on stage and deliver a rock version of Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” only added to the Vegas surreality.

It sounds a little overwhelming and overstimulating, but that’s honestly what gives Vegas its reputation. Plus, I managed to find plenty of time to chill and let the bright lights fade a little, be this at the Cosmopolitan – on a lounger by its Boulevard Pool, at its opulent Chandelier bar, or just in the plunge pool bathtub in my room – or elsewhere. The downtown Arts District led me to a handful of cool vintage finds, and dinnertime equaled chill time too. I just about managed two meals a day – those American portions are whopping – but none of them fell short. If you pick right, you’ll also be entertained while you eat: at both The Mayfair Supper Club and Delilah at Wynn Las Vegas, we witnessed burlesque and jazz bands as we gorged on breakfast potatoes and sushi and sipped tart, sugar-rimmed cocktails.

Brunch at Delilah, Wynn Las Vegas. (Wynn Las Vegas)

Despite its live wire energy, I felt safe in Vegas, a rare luxury in America right now for queer people. For years, the city has been noted as one of the leading LGBTQ+ destinations in America, but it’s a similar picture for those who live there permanently. According to a 2023 report from The Williams Institute, 6.6 per cent of Nevada’s population identify as LGBTQ+, one of the highest rates in the country. There’s no escaping its politics – it’s a swing state, though currently Republican – but Vegas sticks out like, erm, a city in a desert. If you’ve ever been made to feel like a weirdo or an outcast, you’d be welcome here. A little eccentricity is pretty much part of the entry requirements.