I flapped my arms wildly, trying to stay level as I soared above Midtown Manhattan. I was a bird, lying prone with my arms extended into “wings” with sensors that simulated actual flight.
My virtual reality headset transported me to New York City, where I weaved around tall buildings. I saw a green expanse ahead and made it my focal point. Surely, Central Park was where a bird, even a virtual one, belonged. I raised one arm without thinking — and immediately started spinning, faster and faster. The park, the buildings, the park, the buildings, it all went by in a blur.
I knew I had to lift my other arm, er, wing, to even out, but I was too disoriented in the fake world to move my body in the real one. I called out to the attendant to make it stop by removing the headset.
So this is the sad fate of city pigeons, I thought.
This was Birdly, one of the attractions in “The Lab” at AREA15, a playground of immersive experiences in Las Vegas. Other augmented reality attractions in this one room at AREA15 have people throwing invisible balls in a game of dodgeball, launching into space to repair an astro-robot, and driving in a Grand Prix.
You’ve heard of the Sphere, the world’s largest spherical structure with the highest-resolution screen of all time. But that’s not the only place in Las Vegas where you can become fully surrounded in sound and light. Several new attractions are both immersive and interactive: sweeping you away to rushing waterfalls, suiting you up in Velcro for a human-scale game of darts, augmenting your vision so you can bliss out in a light-streaked dance club, or sticking a VR headset on your face and sending you someplace else entirely.

Las Vegas itself is arguably one big artificially constructed immersive experience. It’s a circus of neon lights and strong air conditioning in the middle of the desert, where casino complexes begin as windowless black boxes, blank spaces onto which are projected hope, desire, money and all the other things for which people go to Vegas. Gambling has long lured people deeper inside the maze, blissfully unaware of the outside world. But as younger generations gamble less, Vegas is finding other ways to hold them in spendy thrall, cut off from the blinding daylight of the here and now.
“People want to escape reality and just kind of turn off all the friction and anxiety from the real world,” said Noel Bowman, owner of three Vegas locations of Minus5 ice bar, where the thermostat is set in the negative and customers don fur coats while sipping cocktails out of ice cube tumblers.