Las Vegas is a shining beacon of everything that’s bad for you (gambling, boozing, getting married), and what gives the capital of vice most of its shine? The megawatt signs that entice punters both seasoned and naïve alike into the open arms of the casinos, that’s what. From the down-market to the high-roller joints, they all have one thing in common: a bright advertisement-cum-entrance each vying to steal the attention from all the other surrounding hotspots. But where do these signs go when they’ve blown a fuse, or when their venue gets a makeover? The Neon Museum.
It’s an unconventional museum in two parts. The defunct and decommissioned signs of Las Vegas have a new resting place – the Neon Boneyard – looking more like a scrapyard for crapped-out motors, minus the usual pair of mangy curs on a chainlink leash keeping out the skiprats. There you can take a walk through a dilapidated but fascinating collection of signs dating back to the 1930s. The more edifying edifice of the visitors centre was in a former life the lobby of the La Concha Motel, designed in the early 60s by Paul William Revere, restored and transplanted to the museum’s resting place on Las Vegas Boulevard. If old school lighting is a turn-on but you can’t make it to Vegas, you might like Warsaw’s Cold War-era neon museum.