15th April – Macau, all day

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Arthur meets me in his car for a weekend in Macau - we head to ferry terminal (and back again for my passport) and we’re met in Macau by a stretch limo and we’re shown the sights briefly before the driver takes us to the hotel. The Mandarin Oriental is a five-star hotel which is owned by the same company as many of the casinos in “Macau, the Vegas of Asia”. An ex-Portuguese colony, the region makes over half its GDP through tourism and gambling, and it seems Arthur’s family are quite high in the pecking order for handling this revenue stream.

After abandoning our luggage at the hotel Arthur, Bill and I head to the museum of motor racing, a tribute to the annual Formula 3 race which takes place on the streets of the city in November. The museum holds many F3 cars from present-day machines to classic Lotuses (Loti?) of the 1960s and is an interesting collection. A brief walk around the ‘themed’ shopping complexes of Fisherman’s Wharf fail to shake the vague feeling of tackiness that comes with painted concrete, and following this we meet Arthur’s grandmother for dim sum in the Macau Tower, a vast and fantastic spread of dishes.

Back in the hotel room for a nap I’m sure I see a familiar face on the telly, Dr Allan Chapman who hosted a lecture on deep-space exploration for the Institute of Physics in Bath. As night falls the neon signs and waving searchlights of the town begin to turn on, lending the whole place an air of an event, even though the bulk of the interest is turned inwards on the green baize tables of the betting floors. We stay in the hotel bar though, listening to a reasonable covers band bashing out Clapton, Dire Straits and Motown hits. My attention was focused on the seven or eight Filipino girls at the back of the room, working girls who are watching the room for a drunk rich lonely gambler, hoping for a lucrative night upstairs. It’s a shame that these girls have to work this way, and even worse that they get such poor treatment from the hotel staff, who probably know their faces as regulars in a bar which sees only passing guests. As I watch I notice a young Afro-Caribbean lad sat at the back with his arms folded, watching only the girls and certainly not the band. He’s younger than I am but still has the air of being someone from whom you don’t withhold payment; he’s very effective, I’m sure. Although Macau clearly has residents at both ends of the spectrum it drives home to me how lucky I am to be living in a good position in Western society, not forced to stoop and beg for a living but still able to appreciate it, rather than accepting it.

I’d earmarked Pink Floyd’s “Money” as today’s theme in anticipation of the blackjack, roulette and baccarat on the casino floors, but in retrospect I think the same song is more appropriate to my own lifestyle in Macau as a guest of the Tsois. From the panoramic view from my sumptuous hotel room to the waiting doormen who hold the umbrella as I move between the hotel and the car, I’ve never received such high or personable service and I’m grateful for every moment. I look forward to trying to pay back this alternating family debt in another thirty years time!

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Photos

Fisherman's Wharf
One of Macau's themed shopping precincts.

Macau from the hotel window
It's an impressive view, and probably an expensive one. The ferry terminal is in the background, the straight road forms part of the F3 race circuit.

A long way from home
If it was wrong, how would we know?

More Aztec-land
.. with Arthur and Bill posing.