After a decade-long break, I returned to the Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in 2025, and it was like stepping into a time machine. While some things had changed, the essence of the show remained the same – a dazzling display of innovation, excitement, and a sense of wonder. As a tech journalist with 10 years of experience, I was eager to see how the industry had evolved and what new wonders CES had in store.

My first CES experiences were a blur of cameras, team dinners, and early meetings. I had no clue what I was doing, but I was determined to learn. Fast forward 15 years, and I found myself back at CES, this time with a fresh perspective. My assignment was simple – walk the show floor, find cool stuff, and put it on the site. I took this remit seriously, scheduling few meetings and wearing sensible shoes for the miles of walking I would embark on.

The journey began in the West Hall, where I stumbled upon a Dunkin' with a quick-moving line, plenty of seating, and electrical outlets built into the booths. It was a far cry from my memories of cramped, crowded seating areas where I often ate lunch on the floor. The hall itself was new, and I soon found myself distracted by the enormous tractors on display. They were autonomous, articulated dump trucks, and I couldn't resist taking pictures in front of them.

CES always has its trends, and this year, it was all about robots. From hardware to software, robots were everywhere, doing everything from picking up socks to offering companionship. While they were cute and impressive, I wasn't convinced they were a threat to humanity just yet. AI was also ubiquitous, embedded in everything from TVs to glasses, whether it made sense or not.

Getting around Las Vegas during the show remained a challenge, despite a decade of transportation innovation. I found myself walking between venues to avoid gridlock, and even took a Tesla ride through the Vegas Loop, which felt like a short, futuristic Uber ride. However, there was still no good way to get from the Las Vegas Convention Center to The Venetian, and I ended up stuck on a bus creeping through traffic.

Outside the convention center, I took in the changes – and lack thereof – in Las Vegas over the past decade. Tourists still lined the gondola route through The Venetian, and men still handed out cards for seedy entertainment. But one new fixture on the strip caught my attention – the Sphere. I watched an animation of an alien breaking the glass and climbing out of it, and later attended Delta's keynote presentation at the Sphere, which was a spectacle that delivered on its promises.

The keynote was a showstopper, with a simulated plane rolling towards the audience, wind whipping up, and even a syrupy sweet smell of hazelnut coffee pumped into the space. Tom Brady made an appearance, but the pièce de résistance was an image of the Earth as a giant, floating glass ball, rotating in front of stained glass. It was an illusion, but my brain was convinced it was real. Even watching it back in my recorded videos, I couldn't believe it wasn't there.

What struck me most about this CES was the sheer showmanship of it all. It's a show, and we all know it. We say things like, "Have a great show!" to each other when we're here. But above all, it's supposed to make us feel something. Like a good show on the Strip, there's some sleight of hand involved – someone behind the scenes controlling the "autonomous" robot, the concept car that never ships, the giant glass ball that's just an array of precisely arranged pixels on a curved screen.

As I left CES 2025, the details of the show began to fade, but the feeling of wonder remained. Even for someone who's seen plenty of CESes come and go, it turns out you can still feel a little sense of awe after all. And who knows, maybe one day those concept cars will actually ship.