16th April, Macau.

---

Whether China is Buddhish, Taoist or Confucian, it’s Easter Sunday and I’m 6000 miles from home, alone, eating a complimentary Easter bunny in a five-star hotel room and watching traffic. It’s surprisingly stressful surveying the scene as suicidal scooters weave between coaches and taxis and the occasional roar of a Ferrari V8 splits the air - what do I do if I see an accident? Ignore it, or go and explain in Portuguese that the whole thing was laid out in plan view for me and I still have no idea who was at fault? I give up and watch the concrete mountain of Fisherman’s Wharf belch flame (and particulate - not even Gordon Brown has worked out how to tax artificial volcanoes yet). The financial background of the city is impressive too - the latest casino was built in ten months at a cost of ten billion in local currency; regardless of the exchange rate, the time for a return on that investment was ten months from opening, which is impressive in any economy. While Macau certainly has less money than Hong Kong, it’s certainly distributed in a more polarised fashion. While many of the locals who work in the service industries rush to work or beg openly on the street, the local plutocracy justifies a half-hourly helicopter service to HK operates for those who can’t spare the hour required for the fast-cat ferry journey.

In my hotel room, I manage to put my finger on why I feel I don’t fit in Asia - it’s literal, I’m too tall. The lower half of my hotel mirror is heated, so I can see a clear reflection of my shoulders after a shower. It’s not just mirrors - the massage chairs in the mall want me to slouch for the best treatment, doorways await the unwary, even where urinals are placed under the slope of stairways in cramped pub back rooms, I don’t fit.

Again, today brings dim sum with Arthur’s extended family, justifying the photo attached. I’m very grateful to the Tsois for a fantastic experience in Macau over the weekend at their expense - I really enjoyed the town and culture and I look forward to seeing some of them in the UK in the future. The theme for the day is Placebo’s ‘Pure Morning’ for no other reason than it was simply the tune in my head when I woke - I have no idea why.

---

Photos

Arthur's family take me to dinner
From left, Arthur's brother, Arthur, me, his grandmother, his girlfriend Michelle, his sister Toni and her husband Bill.

Advert on the MTR
... presumably designed to scare kids. The Ali G glasses, the cap, the hunched shoulders. Whatever he's selling, I wouldn't buy it.

Kids play in the fountains, Tung Chong
and presumably more than one is drenched by the end of the evening.

The Buddha statue at Po Lin
Just trying to show the scale of it, really.

Incense-burning pots
At the monastery.

A monk
working his way through his Tai Chi, and trying not to smile as yet another tourist (me) asks to take his photo :)

The bus ride back from Po Lin
We take to the shoulder at around 40mph to avoid oncoming traffic.