Macau was reminiscent of the many scenes in Return of the Cuckoo, the Hong Kong drama serial I watched not so long ago. I was looking forward to this trip for weeks, and I think the place is alot different from what I imagined it to be. Rows and rows of beautiful architecture, colourful mosaic pavements, old cathedrals, ruins and the smell of fresh bak kwa in the air.
The ferry ride there was bumpy and almost felt like a rollercoaster ride, but I skipped onto land with excitement once the boat docked, breathing in the cold gush of wind that hit my face. We brushed past eager salesman who were trying to offer us a city tour and hopped onto one of the Sentosa-like public buses instead for our own rendition of the city sights. I sat in awe for the first ten minutes, gawking at how picturesque and majestic some of the buildings were. Senado Square, the main city square, looked like a scene right out of Final Fantasy according to my Macau 'buddy'. It was a cosmopolitan mix of old architecture from colonial times, modern shophouses like those in Italy and structures right out of Britain.
Without a doubt, the main attraction in Macau was the Ruins of St Paul's. I think we spent close to an hour just taking photos in front of the massive structure, and with the clear blue skies to complement, the ruins will forever be a beautiful memory. My legs were ready to give way at the end of the day however, weaving through the tiny streets and ghettos, conquering slopes and queueing up for bak kwa. Once night fell, we slipped inside one of the biggest casinos in Macau, and the sight that beheld me was one straight out of a movie. Hundreds of tables with rich people ambling around, casino chips in hand, and a cigarette in their mouth. Frowns, concentration or delight on faces, we didn't dare to hang around too long at tables with only one player in case we got beaten up for bringing him bad luck. I didn't part with a single cent, in fact, we just feasted on the free drinks that were being wheeled around in silver carts, and took in the scene. It was a new experience altogether for me, I'm not sure if I'd label it cultural, but it was an eye-opener nonetheless.
The ferry ride back to Hong Kong was quiet, with six heads falling asleep all over each other. We were told later that we had missed out on a few other attractions not in the city centre, such as the black sand beach, as well as the famous pork chop bun and almond cookies. And we thought we had experienced it all after consuming one Portugese egg tart. It definitely calls for another trip there, once I get over the pinch of the expensive ferry ticket.
