Days 151 to 155 - Thursday April 2 to Monday April 6 - Macau

On Thursday, Pierre learns that the upcoming weekend is a long weekend. With his free Tuesday, this means that we have 4 days to travel. As mentioned before, we haven't travelled much in China yet, but the one thing I have learned is that things can get very busy when the entire country has a vacation at one time. The Chinese New Year is a notoriously difficult time to travel - picture Christmas holidays in Canada (especially Christmas Eve) but with 1.3 billion billion people. Some people want to see family, some people want to travel abroad, but it seems like half of the population is trying to get somewhere else.

This long weekend is slightly different - the holiday is called "Qing Ming Jai" which seems to translate to "Clean Bright Festival" but which all of the foreigners seem to refer to a Tomb Sweeping Day. From what I understand, it marks the arrival of spring, people go outside and enjoy nature, and most importantly, people tend to the family graves. Everyone we talk to suggests that it's not a crazy time to travel, so we decide to get out of Huizhou.

At first we're pretty ambitious. We toss around the idea a ten-hour overnight bus ride to a beautiful village well-known for its scenery and hiking. When Pierre returns from his next class, he's got reservations about that idea. He asked his students what they think of the village, they're not enthusiastic. Not very interesting, they say.

I take this with a grain of salt. "Their idea of interesting might be very different from ours," I say. "Maybe rural China just isn't all that exotic for them."

Pierre sees my point. "I guess they did suggest I go to Hong Kong for the shopping."

Eventually, we toss the hiking idea back into the "maybe later" pile. We settle on a four-hour bus ride to Macau.

Macau isn't somewhere I had planned to visit. The word I hear most often in association with "Macau" is "casino." It seems that Macau plays the role of Las Vegas/Montecarlo for this part of Asia. However, the guidebook also promises Portugese architecture and a small city that sounds very pedestrian friendly. I'm really not sure what to expect.

Arriving somewhere new is inevitably inconvenient. Where's the hotel, where's the bus, where's the money exchange, which way's north... With Macau, I am concerned about the additional detail of having to deal with a border crossing but we arrive at the bus station and discover the border is about 100 metres from the bus station. We cross the street, enter the building, fill out the usual exit/entry cards, get in line and within 20 minutes of arriving on the bus we've made it through customs to Macau.

I don't know exactly what I expected from Macau. I probably thought it would be more like Hong Kong - big, crowded, bright, flashy, flat, widespread, expensive. It's none of these things. Instead it is bite-sized: hilly, paved with cobblestones, easy to walk, easy on the eyes, and not crowded. While walking towards the center of town, another tourist mentions that he's never seen it this quiet. We walk through the main plaza:

...and down a few side streets to find a hospedaria for the night. Most of the cheap places are on the short and charming alley/street Rua da Felicidade whose name translates to something like "Happiness Street" (of the "happy ending" variety).

According to our reading, the street is not quite the prostitute magnet it used to be, but from what we see it's still fairly active. During our search for a place with the right balance between cheap/sanitary, we wander into some establishments that are clearly family run and not overly pro-prostitute; at another we only make it a few steps up one stairway before the crowd of smiling friendly young women sitting in the waiting room convinces us to head back down the stairs and onto another hostel. Next door to the hostel is a small cookie shop crowded with at least 100 tourists.

In the picture above, the street looks terribly deserted. This is because Pierre always patiently waits for things to clear out before he takes a picture. The moment after the picture is taken, a elderly man and his wife stroll past us, a family walks out of the cookie store, a scooter drives past, a few tourists walk out of a hostel.  This prostitution street is remarkably cozy and safe in the day and early evening.

We end up staying at a hospedaria that gives us the most reasonable price (around 50 CN$ a night). We use Mandarin to negotiate and check in, which goes as smoothly as can be expected and when we get to the room we immediately unplug the phone so no one can call and wake us up in the middle of the night to offer us their services. There are 2 cell phone numbers written on the wall next to the bed and and we're woken up once by the sounds of an enthusiastic working girl down the hall. (Pierre the engineer explains to me that a floating ceiling tends to encourage noise drift).

The hostel has the funkiest key we've seen so far: it slides into the top of the door knob.

During the day, Happiness Street is white and red and crawling with people:

We walk a few metres down the street to have some congee (sounds like KON-jee). Pierre's been dying to eat this since we saw it in Hong Kong a few months ago. I try it in spite of my immediate dislike for it - really, I think it looks phlegmy and revolting - but it turns out to be very addictive. The porridge/soup is a thick rice porridge; the meat balls are a ground pork mix. On top of this you can add the Chinese version of a donut. All of those things individually sound and look like a bad idea, and yet together it tastes amazing...

The three days of our visit blur into one another, and I don't even bother to take many notes, I'm so caught up in enjoying the city. The events that break up our days fall into a some simple categories.

We walk up and down the narrow streets:

We look down:

We look up:

(note the sad dog checking us out through the railings - banished to the church's patio?)

We walk through parks:

We try out all of the wacky (yet brilliant) free exercise machines in the parks:

We do a bit of sightseeing and check out the ruins of St. Paul, which is all that remains of the St. Paul Cathedral, the majority of which burnt down in the 1830s:

We walk to churches:

...to old graveyards...

...and to temples: 

...and check out the small altars we see along the street: 

The entire city is covered in cobblestones, and many sidewalks have mosaics worked into them: 

We stumble across an odd theme-mall which includes a mini replica of the Coliseum:

...a volcano behind a Spanish village ...

...and a general mish-mash of history and architecture:

Back in the real city, we enjoy the colours, grafitti and night life:

 

...and, as always, we eat and eat and eat.  We discover that Macau is famous for a certain kind of almond cookie - we see tourists with bags and bags of cookie boxes.  We also discover that if you go into a certain chain of stores (Koi Kei Bakery), not only do they have generous and fresh samples of all of their products available for customers, but that they'll give you a full size, fresh-from-the-oven sample of their signature cookie.  Every time you go in.  Brilliant. 

After learning that, we hit a few stores every night to get several samples (I give Pierre most of mine), and buy several boxes before we head home on Day 155.