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Macau - October 2006

The long lournal entries below were first posted on my LiveJournal during the autumn of this adventure.

October 6 & 7, 2007- I had been living in Hong Kong for a few months. I figured it was time to finally see other parts of the South China Sea. Some place not too far a way. Not too expensive. I headed away from Hong Kong for a long weekend get-a-way in Macau. The lovely Ms. Engel was my traveling companion.

Macau ia a Special Adminstrative Region (SAR) of the Peoples' Republic of China, like Hong Kong. And like Hong Kong, Macau benefits from the principle of "one country, two systems." Owned since the days of the Conquistadoes by the Portuguese until 1999 (when China reclaimed ownership), the pennisula is a tropical mix of Eastern and Western cultures. Portuguese and Cantonese are the two main languages, with enough English thrown in to support a tourist trade.

Engel and I headed out Friday, the morning of the 6th to the Sheung Wan MTR stop. Then we caught the 10 AM Jetfoil "TurboJet" ferry. The TurboJet is superfast and rides on top of the water as a hovercraft. It took us roughly an hour to get to Macau. The ferry was really nice, especially considering that I was expecting something like the junker-style, open-air commuter ferry that runs back and forth between Lamma Island. This was more like an airplane, but with more leg room.

The JetFoil "TurboJet" Ferry

The Jetfoil "TurboJet" Ferry One of the MANY MANY scooters on Macau... We arrived in Macau before lunch time, got our passports stamped as soon as we disembarked, and then walked through the terminal. Immediately we were swarmed by touts, trying to get us to ride in their rickshaws or guide us on "a very specialish historical tourical ride." My favorite was a persistent little man who said he clould peddle us on his rickshaw to the center of Macau in twenty minutes, but if we were to walk it, it would take an hour and a half. We passed. Good thing, too, since we foound out later in the weekend it would have been a mere twenty-five to thirty minute walk from Macau's main histroic areas to the ferry terminal. Rickshaws and scooters cluttered the area around the ferry terminal. In fact, scooters were everywhere the whole weekend. I've never seen so many scooters, Vespas, and little motorbikes.

The ace office manager, Karen, at Dramatic English (where Engel and I work) had set us up with an all-inclusive, but really inexpensive, package deal (that covered ferry tickets, hotel stay, free breakfast, museum passes, etc.). This included a free shuttle from the ferry terminal to the Metropole Hotel.

The three-star Metropole on Avenida de Praia Grande was superb. I've grown somewhat accustomed to one-star (and below) little back-packer hovels. This was a real treat. In particular, the full sized bathroom, complete with giant shower was a welcome break from the cramped little garden shower I have at my apartment in Hong Kong.

Anyway, Engel and I checked in, stowed our few peices of luggage and headed out. (Well, Engel travels heavier than I do. I tucked my two days worth of stuff in a small daypack). We walked south. It was a really lovely walk past Spanish-shingled roofs and tiled buildings along a cobblestone path next to the Lagos du Nam Van (a man-made lake, I believe. These guys in south Asia are crazy about innovative land reclamation techniques and such).

Scooters seemed to be THE way to get around in Macau

At first I was kinda perturbed that I had forgot to bring any sunscreen or even a cap. I could feel my massive forehead and jowly cheeks turning more red than their usual rosiness and I began to ninja-dart from one shady piece of pavement to the next. Later in the day I bought a khaki cap with a circa 1978 visor bill for HKD$10 (about USD$1.50) and wore it the rest of the weekend.

Engel and I wound our way down to the Museo Maritimo. Despite the fact that we were getting hellified hungry (and thus rather sluggish) the Maritime Museum was great. Three floors ofexhibits about the fishing and shipping arts in both China and Europe. What fascinated me the most were the sailor knots and the rigging used on old sailing ships. Remember that in the early days of theatre in the United States, sailors on shore-leave were hired as backstage crew. They worked high in the fly system catwalks and worked the pulley systems that lowered curtains and drops. Everything used to be done with weighted sand bags and ropes and were tied off in wooden batons. Also the sailors, with no fear of heights since they were used to climbing rigging high up on masts in rolling open seas, would whistle to one another as signals to drop curtains or pull up flats or whatever. Sailors used to whistle at sea, too, since it carried throught through the loud roar of the ocean better than voices. This is why it is bad luck nowadays to whistle in a theatre. Back at the turn of the 1900s if you casually whistled, you were likely to get a sandbag dropped on your head.

Across from the Maritime Musuem was the A-Ma Temple. Older than Macau itself the little pavillion and surrounding structures, it is the oldest place of worship in the region. Legend has it that A-Ma (known in Hong Kong as Tin Hau) was a girl from the mainland China province of Fujian, whose spirit would appear to save people at sea. After one such apparition saved a group of Fujianese traders during a storm inthe 1370s, they founded the temple in her honor at the spot where she lkead them ashore. As this became the place where the Portuguese later made landfall in the 1550s, they adopted the local name of the place for the whole territory ( A Ma Gao meaning "place of A-Ma"... which was transliterated into "Macau.").

Engel and I round our way north through backstreets looking for a place to eat a late lunch. Westrolled past a huge yellow building. It was a Moorish Barracks from 1874, built to accommodate an Indian regiment from Goa appointed to reinforce Macau's police force. It is now the headquarters of the Macau Maritime Administration. Further up we passed through the streets that doubled for old Shanghai in the early scenes when Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was filmed here in 1984.

We came to a wonderful little restaurant called O Porto Interior on Rue do Almirante Sergio. It was midday, so we had the plac eto ourselves. I had a local dish called African Chicken which was basically a curry chicken in a sauce made of peanutbutter, tabasco and other things. It was really good. So was the chocolate mousse. We also sampled the Portuguese house wine. Very good. The waitress asked if we were American, British, Canadian or Australian. I love that. Certainly was the shoe on the other foot. This is how Americans refer to Asian people... we tend to lump all Asian people into either Chinese or Japanese, in a sort of ignorant simplistic way. It was interesting to me that as an English-speaker I was just sorta lumped in with all nationalities that speak English. The waitress was very nice though, and told us America had declared war on the European Union. We said we hadn't heard anything like that, but wandered around the rest of the day wondering if some international incident had happened in the last day or two that we had, in our isolated adventures, yet to hear about.

We strolled back to the Metropole past St. Lawrence's Church (closed for rennovation), Teatro Pedro V (built in 1851 as the first western-style theatre in China... a lighting display was being set up out front), and the beautiful cobblestones steetscape of St. Augustine's Square with, of course, St. Augustine's Church (est. 1591 by Spanish Augustinians) gathered around it. While we were sight-seeing at dusk a lady came up and offerred us each a "mooncake" and wished us good fortune on our life's journey. A mooncake is about the size of a muffin, but dense and heavy. It is a soft crust buttery outside with a ground sesame seed and lotus paste inside. In the center is the yoke of a jellied duck egg. Except for the duck egg, it tastes pretty good. Engel and I had come to Macau on a Chinese public Holiday known as the Mid-Autumn Festival. Families exchange mooncakes and go up on hilltops to eat the cakes together and look at the moon and carry paper lanterns and such. This lady, a stranger, just gave us this gift. A further sign that we were far from hardnosed Hong Kong.

Teatro Dom Pedro V. The lovely Ms. Engel on the Rue de Tiago da Barra

Back at the hotel for a nap and a shower- oh blessed big shower- and then off to explore the casinos. First the Emporer Palace, then the Hotel Lisboa and we ended up at the American-style Wynn Casino. Engel and I enjoyed an outstanding buffet (complete with a fountain of chocolate for dipping cakes and stawberries fondue-style). Gorged, we headed into the casino and I proceeded to be smacked down by the one-arm bandits. Back to the Metropole around 1:30 AM in the morning.

The promenade along Avenida da Republica and yours truly in front of the A-Ma Temple

Engel and I got up early enough to get the "continental breakfast" at the Metropole Hotel.

Continental Breakfast consisted of the usual coffee, tea, milk and/or juice to drink. For eats though, the short buffet table included fried noodles, pork dumpling soup, and toast. Yes sir, "continental."

Late checkout (included in the package deal) and then across the street to the festive little park with a statue of Jorge Alvares. It was a sunny afternoon so we sat out under a tree and ate our mooncakes. Then we wound our way to the historic centre of Macau, Senado Square.

First to St. Dominic's Church (founded in 1587 by three Spanish Dominican priests from Acapulco Mexico). Beautiful place. Especially the ornate alter. We toured the small Museum of Sacred Art upstairs. Then through the winding wave-pattern stone mosaic streets of Senado Square up hill to the big attraction of the day, Ruins of St. Paul's Cathedral.

The Rua de Sau Paulo used to be a cathedral to rival any in Europe or anywhere else in the world. It was originally the Church of the Mater Dei built between 1602 and 1640, it was ravaged by fire in 1835. Most of what stands today is a magnificent facade, standing on a hilltop like a bizarre movie set. Also, the adjacent St. Paul's College burned in 1835, too. It was the first western-style university in the Far East.

On the walk back down the hill we stopped at several small shops. I bargained down the price of a cool little wooden pencil box in one store and bargained down a silk robe in another. The robe is sweet. It has the symbols for Good Fortune, Wealth, and Long Life embroidered into it. I also sampled goodies from several shops. Chalky almond macaroons no gusto. Cured pork, not so bad.

Engel and I grabbed some McFries and decided we'd swing by another casino before leaving and see if we could hop an ealier ferry back to Hong Kong. We walked to the gold-plated, US-owned Sands and - miracle of miracles - I actually won finally at the slots.

Scooters everywhere. Engel and I at the Ruins of St. Paul's Cathedral

Across the street from the Sands we came upon Fisherman's Warf, a sort of shoppoing center/ theme park "village." We walked by a huge stadium called the "Roman Amphitheatre" filled with what seemed to be Chinese teenagers. I asked a coordinator/ security guy at the front what the rumpus was and he explained in broken English that tonight there was a huge pop music concert and would we like to get in free and sit in the VIP section up front. Cantopop? Sure! Engel and I nestled in a row next to some bored-looking too-cool-for-school Cantonese teens and waited for the show. All the acts we found out were Taiwanese singing acts. We stayed for a group I think was called Shine and then another slightly better group called C-Plus. When I say group I mean two guys. Kinda gay. Cantopop is closer to Backstreet Boys than to 50 Cent. Not too hard-core. Kinda mellow. Like the crowd. Really sedate for a rock concert. Apathetic. I think apathy is a natural state for Chinese teenagers.

Engel and I slipped out after about 45 minutes and caught an earlier-than-intended ferry back to Hong Kong. We sprang for a cab when we arrived back in Kowloon to take us to our street. I ordered a pizza and Engel and I finished our long Macau get-a-way in front of her laptop, eating pizza and watching a movie on VCD.

About to eat the mooncake (I DID get sun the day before. Dig the cheap khaki cap). If you don't drive a scooter in Macau you're bunk, yo.

I recommend Macau. Really nice, mellow, historic place.

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