Globalization leads to variations of diaspora for economic opportunities, as well as enjoyment of foreign travel more than ever. As the leisure classes expand across societies, we see increasing numbers of innocents abroad, availing themselves of cruises, tours, or quick hops within easy reach.
The gamut of holiday desiderata is dictated by ticket price ranges, bargain budgets, time constraints. And, of course, by the practical, allowable radius — of how far or close one may wish to gallivant away from home.
We’re told how Tokyoites find it easier and cheaper to play golf or tennis on Manila’s courses and courts, than to gain reservations on their home turf. The same has happened with the upwardly mobile Koreans, as well as Taiwanese. We see them all over our cities and islands.
And while our fellow Asians — with the mainland Chinese joining the charge — may still prefer cheap holiday tours that have Bangkok as a central hub, while also allowing quick jumps to Singapore and Kuala Lumpur for a triangle of relatively adjacent sightseeing destinations, those who have done that bit can also look next at enjoying our sun, sand, surf and shopping.
In turn, the gradually increasing ranks of middle-class Pinoys are also starting to find cheap air rates conducive to initial forays abroad, especially where visas aren’t a hassle of a requisite.
For decades now, of course, Hong Kong has been a prime destination. At a little over an hour away, the flight is briefer than one to our own southernmost Mindanao. From the privileged class and the breed of corporate hotshots that can jet out and back in after a weekend or a day of splendid cuisine, to the viajera who makes of Hong Kong a profitable monthly jaunt, Pinoys have become overly familiar with the Crown Colony, and vice versa.
Now there’s the additional come-on of Macau, not to mention Schenzen and Guangzhou. Bargain rates for flying in and out are luring more Pinoys to add these cities to a sort of playground roster that have also long included Singapore.
You’ve got mad money? And you’ve done Boracay countless times? You’ve explored value-for-money Bohol with family? You’ve had your fill of domestic tourism, ticked Cebu/Mactan, Davao, C. de Oro, Gen San, Iloilo, Bacolod, Dumaguete, Romblon, all the way down your long-weekend list — maybe thrown in Coron, Busuanga, Puerto Princesa, even Batanes? And you’ve done your fair share of Luzon — north, south, east and west?
Then the jet-setting trail begins to include Singapore, Malacca and Penang, Bangkok and Bali, Borobodur and Angkor Wat. And always, always, close to home, and very affordable, are Hong Kong and Macau.
That’s how we can look at the future of cultural, financial, and tourism interchange: a regional playground for recharging jaded spirits. Just as Europeans old and young cross many borders every time a calendar break allows egress from the humdrum, Southeast Asians are beginning to appreciate the porous quality of neighborliness.
Well, make mine Macau. One doesn’t even have to go through Hong Kong anymore, and have to line up at the hovercraft terminal with passport in hand, only to be jostled by the mainlanders of rough-country manners. Direct flights from Manila and Mactan, a lot of them getting cheaper by the dozen, have built a bridge of appreciation for just a bit of exotica.
The quartet of modern, actual bridges — elegant in the daytime and glowing at night — that connect Macau to Taipa Island, thence to Coloane, is but an item of allure for the former Portuguese colony. There’s also the cuisine, markedly different from what one gets too familiar with in Hong Kong. Macanese meals offer a variety of new tastes, from bacalhau to duck done differently, and then some.
Of course there’s the high-spirited gambling, if you’re into that sort of thing. Las Vegas East is what the tiny enclave is shaping up
to be, indeed, what with hotel-casinos on a burgeoning mode, seemingly without let-up.
I recall that in the late ’80s, Stanley Ho’s flagship Hotel Lisboa & Casino by the waterfront was the prime if rather tacky attraction, topped by a lurid neon crown. Well, a couple of decades later, that waterfront has given way to reclaimed land, so that the original Hotel Lisboa has been pushed downtown. But a bigger brother is close to claim vertical primacy as Macau’s tallest structure: the Grand Hotel Lisboa, with no less than a tulip-shaped architectural crown.
Then there are the Arizona-desert replicas of the hotel-casino biggies, such as Wynn’s, MGM Grand, and The Venetian. The last opened only some months back, but has already made its mark by hosting an NBA pre-season game between the Cleveland Cavaliers with LeBron James and the Orlando Magic with Dwight Howard. On that weekend, scores of Filipinos flew in from Manila and Cebu just to watch high-octane, high-priced basketball. And I was green to the gills with envy.
As November ends, another sporting attraction will bring in moneyed aficionados, as The Venetian presents an exhibition match between tennis greats Roger Federer and Pete Sampras. Well, good ol’ Pete will be hard put to shake off the has-been rust, but it should still be a grand draw.
At this time of year, simply taking a walking tour of Macau can be a bracing experience (unlike in the summer months when it’s particularly muggy).
I feel a particular affinity for Macau whenever I do the tourist trail that starts at the Ruins of the Church of St. Paul, which must be the most photographed facade (and nothing but) in the world. Down the broad steps one can meander among the souvenir and antique shops and past the quaint postal boxes that stand much like London’s red phone booths — a symbol of traditional connection, even just by way of a postcard, to the rest of an increasingly Internet-savvy world.
Farther down into the square with its picturesque waves of tile design, I know what I’ve come for: yet another series of pictures of a magnificent old building, now refurbished and wonderfully lit at twilight, that is the Santa Casa de Misericordia, namesake of my birth street in old Manila.
Beyond is a circular fountain that spouts jets of water, and where the foot-weary traveler, or shopper or both, rests awhile, perchance before hitting the gaming tables as dark descends. Other than that, I’d recommend a hop to Taipa and Coloane islands, across the splendid bridges, and where one can still walk down cobble-stoned streets and feel romantically Mediterranean — traipsing past Old-World-type lampposts, until a selection is made among the eateries with the zany neon proclaiming Happy Dumbo or something like that in three languages.
Yet another new attraction is the Macau Tower Convention and Entertainment Centre on reclaimed land, from where by day or night one can admire the graceful concrete spans across the straits, and watch the lumbering sea craft in timeless portage under them. If altitude’s your thing, you can go up to the observation deck for a bird’s-eye view for miles around.
Circling the glass-enclosed deck (in parts glass-floored, for tiptoeing adherents of vertigo) is an outer ramp where you can “skywalk” and have your cheeks and corpus blessed by the wind, jacketed and harnessed as you would have to be. For a braver claim to world records, there’s The World’s Highest Skyjump (or bungee jump) at 233 meters.
Back on ground level, the Macau Tower offers a family treat with the Warner Bros. Studio and Toys R Us outlets. Outside stand specimens of fine public art, one of them a conglomeration of golden tulip bulbs rendered modernistic, yet so Macau. The late afternoon sun turns them even more golden, especially at magic hour. And when dusk descends, it is the bridges’ turn to glow over dark waters.
So seductively Macau.
It feels good to have this golden temptress as a neighbor.