On Wednesday I checked out of my hotel in San Francisco with a monumental hangover, and took a cab to the airport. I was going to fly to a place I had never wanted to visit before.

It took half an hour of queuing to check in my baggage, and when I finally did get to the counter I was told I had exceeded the weight allowance and would have to either remove some items or pay an extra $50. Wishing to avoid the spectacle of disposing of my personal belongings in the middle of the airport terminal, I offered to pay the money - and then was told I had to join a separate queue to do this. After another half an hour, I reached the second counter, where they weighed my bag and simply checked it in without saying anything. Bizarre.

After an hour of various ticket and security checks, I finally made it to the departures lounge. To be fair, the delay was largely a result of the sheer number of people at the airport. There had been a big baseball game in town the night before, apparently.

I'll say one thing for Americans - they know how to serve up good hangover food. Before boarding the flight - which was delayed by nearly an hour - I ordered a hot ham and cheese sandwich. I thought that meant toasted, but no. They fried the sandwich, added a portion of chips for good measure and then chucked a load of salt and seasoning over it all. Normally I would have been taken aback. On this occasion, I couldn't have been more grateful.

Anyway, the reason I was at the airport was to fly to a city I had hitherto had no interest in ever seeing whatsoever. I was off to the ultimate sin city - viva Las Vegas. Ever since I was a kid, I have loathed tacky resorts. Equally, I'm not much of a gambler - the odd day at at the races is about as much as I do. I also have serious concerns about the social implications of gambling. I saw in Australia - home to more slot machines than any other country in the world, believe it or not - countless examples of people destroying their lives through gambling.

So, why was I off to Vegas? Partly because so many people whose opinion I normally trust had urged me to go while I was in the area. Partly because I was intrigued just to see it. And partly because the cost of hotels on weekdays is ludicrously, absurdly cheap. You can literally live the life of luxury on a budget in Vegas if you go on the right days. I also felt two days would be sufficient to 'do' the city, while the same time in a place like Los Angeles would probably not do it justice.

When I arrived at my hotel, my jaw physically dropped. Then again, given that it is biggest in the world, I suppose that is not particularly surprising. I was staying that the MGM Grand, which has more than 5,000 rooms. The reception area was about the size of an average airport terminal. When I went to check in, I was asked if I wanted to upgrade to a suite for an extra $25 a night. The naughty voice in my head said 'go on, you might as well do this properly' and so I duly upgraded. I was still only paying the equivalent of 55 pounds a night to stay here.

As I walked into my suite, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was the size of most flats I've lived in, with a king sized bed, a jacuzzi bath, sofas, wide screen tv and bar. And I repeat - I was getting all of this for what you would expect to pay for a room in a travelodge off the A12 back home. Incredible.

The hotel itself was no less amazing. Its sheer size was what took me aback - on top of the ubiquitous slot machines, there were something like a dozen bars, christ knows how many restaurants, a shopping mall and six swimming pools. After a spot of sun bathing by the pool, I retired to my room and the naughty voice again told me 'go on, you might as well do this properly', and so I ordered a bottle of champagne on room service and relaxed in the jacuzzi. I felt like such a tosser. It was great.

In the evening I explored Las Vegas' famous Strip. It was clear that my hotel was just one of scores of other complexes of unfathomable size. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. Each hotel was quite literally almost a separate town in its own right - some had hundreds of shops, bars and restaurants.

What became obvious to me while I was walking around this bizarre and incredible place, was that gambling is just one of the activities that goes on here. It is the activity which launched Vegas, but it is no longer a prerequisite for coming to the city.

Much of Vegas is cheesy and tacky - the imitation Eiffel Tower, Statue of Liberty and so on. The orgy of commercialism over culture that typifies the place is also unappealing in many respects, but to complain about it would miss the point. This is a city that does not pretend to be anything other than what it is. This is an oasis of indulgence, a place where opulence is affordable and the poor can quite literally live like the rich. For its sheer difference to anywhere else I have ever visited, I liked it immensely.

This might sound strange, but you don't have to like Las Vegas to enjoy visiting it. The place is a complete freak show, but one that nonetheless completely captivates you from the moment you arrive.