Macau is famous not only for its cultural heritage, but also for its world-class gambling. As casinos are outlawed in nearby countries, they have been relegated to this territory, earning its namesake as the Vegas of the East.
It is such an interesting contrast; to go from an old historic urban core to these massive sprawled constructions of flash and glamour. Unfortunately, the closer I got to all the casinos, the more Macau lost its human scale. Soon, winding streets became unwalkable and wide boulevards; small parklets turned into underutilized plazas, and small local storefronts turned into high-end shopping centers.
But perhaps a dense urban core is futile for this gambling industry. After all, what use is walkability when you have free air-conditioned shuttle busses that will deliver the masses straight to casino doors?
I am not a gambler, nor do I vie for time in casinos. I am deeply fascinated by cities and urbanism and public spaces, so perhaps my perspective is cynical. But the massive investment in such a lucrative industry seems so jarring—an industry with fallacious promises of wealth that has severely transformed this built environment.
Take for example the Venetian, the famous resort hotel casino known for its idyllic aesthetic. What a noble idea to recreate the Italian city’s charming fenestration, matched with canals and street names and a painted blue sky to mirror the daylight you will never see inside.
Or walk through the glossy shopping center to the Parisian, where its “boulevards” are packed with kitschy French baroque ornamentation next to yet another Eiffel Tower recreation that attempts to sell the awe and appeal of Paris.
It is all as impressive as it is inauthentic. This architecture has nothing to do with these European cities or Macau, and everything to do with escapism—constructing an illusory place as lucid as gamblers’ hopes of winning big. These false cities intend to keep you on their “streets” and in their shops and game tables until they extract as much money out of you as possible.
And whereas the Macau Peninsula, just kilometers away, bears a bounty of world cultural heritage with real urban streets teeming with people and stories, this is a false air-conditioned world filled with luxury shopping and flashing casino lights and fake streets that will take you in circles around this labyrinthine complex of beguiled dreams.
And without a doubt these places will never cease to exist.
All the way up there, it seemed like a fake world in a video game. Random towering complexes with extravagant mismatched facades jut out the ground amidst sprawling parking lots and freeways. There weren’t people on the streets; only cars and the ubiquitous casino shuttle busses. Lights flashed in all directions and large screens blared special event promotions, emitting mere glimpses of the possibilities the Cotai Strip has to offer. Having just walked around the Macau Peninsula north of the Cotai strip on Taipa Island, it felt so disorienting. Yet this is still part of Macau, a place that can offer all of its juxtaposing experiences at heightened capabilities: a historic city with an honest city life and plethora of cultural historic sites, and a world class haute gambling experience littered with high-end shopping.
After getting lost in the Venetian, we finally found the one bar that was open. We walked through the empty restaurant to the nearly empty outdoor patio, primed with views of the hotel pool, the Parisian and its Eiffel Tower, and all the flashing lights softened by the haze of the night sky. Soft jazz covers of pop songs quietly played as we sipped our shockingly reasonably-priced drinks.
It felt almost dystopian out there, as though the world played itself out into a hell-ish landscape, and the few “winners” inhabited this vast luxurious expanse erected in a barren island, removed from the rest of society. After experiencing the massive crowds in Senado Square and the saturated streets of St Lazarus District on Macau Peninsula, we found the space and stillness to be more peculiar than tranquil. It stumped us, how this famed area felt so vacuous.
We slowly began to understand why this didn’t match our expectations, referencing Las Vegas in our minds. The flashy luxe and boisterous casinos are impressive, but unlike Vegas, this is a uniquely Asian interpretation, something apparent when walking around the casinos. Unlike the luxe lifestyle that Vegas offers with its big shows, nightlife, and bars, the Cotai strip is mostly high end shopping and casinos. There’s no alcohol on the casino floor, but there is tea. There are no “I <3 Macau” souvenir shirts for sale, but there are Versace suits. And most notably, gamblers here are serious and focused. They don’t walk around to be seen in chic outfits—they are here to play their games and take home as much money as they can win.
Moreover, it’s a lucrative revenue-generating industry, larger than Vegas. It didn’t appear that way sitting outside on that nearly empty outdoor bar patio, but considering the numerous resort hotel casino shuttles that litter the streets, the helicopter landing pads for the wealthier guests, and the dedicated gamblers on the casino floor, it makes sense. People don’t come here to vacation and grab a cocktail at the bar—they come here with the intent to win.
