- A friend's husband asked me to go on a relaxing spa getaway with his wife, but she chose Las Vegas.
- I hated the trip — I couldn't escape the noise of the city and everything felt so expensive.
Last year, a friend's husband messaged me for the sweetest reason — he wanted to surprise his wife with a four-night getaway and wondered if I wanted to go along. As someone who loves travel and now writes about it, I was all for it.
I met my friend in college over 15 years ago. We hadn't seen much of each other since graduating as we live in different states, but we'd message each other weekly so I thought a getaway together would be fun.
Her husband seemed a bit lost, so I happily offered to help plan the getaway. His only requirements were that the hotel be on a beach somewhere and have an on-site spa.
But the trip started going downhill when we ended up booking a spot in Las Vegas, about as far as possible from the beach.
Somehow our plans went from the beach to the desert
I spent hours researching beachfront hotels with on-site spas, determined to find something nice that wouldn't break my budget. After much back and forth with my friend's husband, I booked a fully refundable hotel that ticked off all the boxes.
I thought we were all set, but her husband kept looking at other options. Eventually, he told his wife his plan. At first, I was relieved — how much easier it would be to plan a vacation with my friend than with her husband!
But she apparently didn't love the resort I booked because soon we began exploring other destinations, which is how I came to suggest a resort and spa 30 minutes outside Las Vegas. She told me she'd rather just stay in Vegas instead of dealing with transportation outside the city.
I was surprised because I thought this was meant to be a relaxing beach getaway — Vegas doesn't scream "relaxing" and it most definitely isn't beachy. But I tried to keep an open mind, and away we went.
I quickly learned Vegas wasn't for me — and perhaps the friendship wasn't either
No matter where I went in our resort, I couldn't escape the constant barrage of Las Vegas noise. There was, of course, the incessant ding-ding-ding coming from the numerous slot machines everywhere we went — even at the airport.
Our room also overlooked several pools and a day club. Even 20-some floors up, I could hear and feel the pulsing of the club's music. My friend's idea of "relaxing" at the pool meant being assailed by heavy bass while sweating in the sun. I couldn't even have a conversation with her over a poolside lunch because of the nonstop music.
Not that we had much conversation, really. It was primarily her talking and me listening or asking her questions. She didn't show much interest in my life and seemed quite irritated that I wasn't a fan of the constant loud noise.
Since relaxation was the original goal of the trip, I agreed to book a spa service but it was so expensive I couldn't justify spending a whole day there.
Ultimately, I paid over $300 for a mediocre hour-long massage, which I spent silently calculating how many massages I could've gotten back home (almost four). Then I ended up having too much wine — at $20 a glass, mind you — so I was that annoying roommate one night. I blame the stress.
Overall, I found Vegas to be overwhelmingly loud and expensive. I called my husband in tears on day two, needing to be talked out of booking an early flight home. Of course, that was a rare moment alone. My friend didn't seem to want us to do much apart, even though I got the vibe she wasn't enjoying the vacation either.
Our friendship didn't continue after that trip and we haven't spoken since Vegas. At first, I felt bad for letting go of this friendship. But then I realized it's not worth the guilt.
I took this trip as an expensive lesson: Not all friendships are meant to last and I'm not a Vegas person. And that's OK.