IMAGINE a building that contains more square footage than some entire towns, on a scale so large that an unsuspecting visitor with a poor sense of direction might spend days wandering among its 3,000 guest suites, one million square feet of retail space and 1.2 million square feet of meeting, convention and exhibition space, desperately seeking the restaurant where he made a dinner reservation.

It is somewhat ironic that visitors come to gape and gawk at the chandeliers, the fountains, man-made canals and brand name stores while nearby, narrow lanes with quaint-sounding names like Rua dos Negociantes and Avenida de Carlos da Maia are waiting to be explored.

To say that the year-old The Venetian Macao-Resort-Hotel (it even needs more hyphens than an ordinary hotel) is massive is like saying Bill Gates is reasonably well to do. This place is so big some rooms have different zip codes. While Mr Gates himself would probably choose to stay at the just-opened Four Seasons Hotel next door (he does own that hotel management company, after all), more than 80,000 others pass through the portals of The Venetian each day - most of them headed for one of the 750 gaming tables and 3,000 slot machines spread across the hotel's casino floor.

The relentless pursuit of excess that has consumed Macau over the past few years and catapulted its economy into the GDP stratosphere is best exemplified by the US$2.4 billion Venetian and a number of other multi-billion-dollar gaming and entertainment facilities still springing up around it in a special district of this former Portuguese enclave, turning the area into a playground for the mega-rich, the merely rich and the wannabe rich - an instant business model for what industry observers call "a new tourism matrix".

The recreation zone where The Venetian sits is known as the Cotai Strip, on a 5.2 sq km section of reclaimed land that now links the two former islands of Coloane and Taipa in the Pearl River Delta, just across from peninsular Macau and its more well known tourist attractions. In about the same amount of time it takes to spin a roulette wheel, this once-rural part of Macau - even sleepier than old Macau town - has been transformed into one of the biggest tourist destinations in the world.

It's a safe bet that most visitors these days are focused on gaming and don't attempt to leave the casino floor, much less their hotel, but it is both interesting and astounding that in close proximity to Cotai - not much further away than the length of The Venetian complex itself - it is possible to venture into a part of this SAR (Special Administrative Region) that provides a glimpse of the way things used to be. You might call it The Real Macau.

In historic Taipa Village (or Tamzhai in Cantonese), on what was once Taipa Island's southern shoreline, there still remains a section that is a living testament to Macau's centuries-old cultural heritage and its colonial past. The village, not more than a warren of little streets and tiny pedestrian lanes, still functions on a daily basis rather than as a tourist attraction.

Road Sign in Macau

Here, in small, multi-hued buildings with stained walls, peeling paint and laundry hanging out on bamboo poles, lives The Real Macau. Here, in the shadow of a US$13 billion development that will eventually comprise 14 resorts and 21,000 hotel rooms, locals sit on benches around small squares, attired in shorts and singlets, chatting and watching the world (literally) pass them by.

In the Cotai Strip, when they're not navigating acres of polished marble and thick pile carpet, hordes of pot-bellied men in flip-flops and plaid shorts crowd around the blackjack and baccarat tables. In Taipa Village, where it's still possible to experience the simple life, people live in close proximity more out of habit and necessity.

In Cotai, there's not much conversation to speak of, but there's plenty of noise nevertheless, as players curse or cheer their cards and scream for the dealer to go bust. There's more clamour than glamour - and this is the surreal scene at 3 o'clock on a sunny weekday afternoon, so just imagine what it's like in prime time.

It is somewhat ironic that visitors come to gape and gawk at the chandeliers, the fountains, man-made canals and brand name stores while nearby, narrow lanes with quaint-sounding names like Rua dos Negociantes and Avenida de Carlos da Maia are waiting to be explored. Visitors are apt to encounter children out on an evening bicycle ride, or walk past open windows with the sound of Cantonese opera on the radio drifting out.

Those with insider knowledge or Macanese connections will also head to Taipa to dine at popular culinary destinations like Antonio for authentic Portuguese cuisine or Le Bistrot and La Bonne Heure, French restaurants with no dress code but plenty of good food and local charm. If local seafood is your thing, there's always the Tam Chai Yu Chin restaurant, in a building that looks perfectly innocuous from one side but like a relic from ancient times if you happen to approach it from a back lane.

Delve into Taipa side lanes famous for traditional eats and sweets "Taipa village, not more than a warren of little streets and tiny pedestrian lanes, still functions on a daily basis rather than as a tourist attraction."

Alternatively, take a walk down Rua do Cunha, a small lane lined on either side with stores selling local snacks and foodstuffs. It's worth noting that Taipa's name is apparently derived from the Cantonese term dai ba - meaning "a lot" - and in this context, it is entirely appropriate because there's so much to discover.

There are also several heritage buildings to check out in Taipa and many ooze local charm, such as local shophouses and temples and the Taipa Houses Museum, a row of early-20th century colonial-style holiday homes painted in a peculiar shade of green and facing one of the few bodies of water that have escaped land reclamation. A picturesque church sits on one of the highest points in the village.

Before the mid-1970s, Taipa was only accessible by ferry, but now there are three bridges spanning the 2.5km stretch of water between the two islands (now considered one) and the mainland. Once across, it's only a short distance to Taipa, then along the Cotai Strip and on to Coloane - the larger (at 7.6 square km to Taipa's 6.5 square km), and even more rural of Macau's outlying islands.

Coloane is where locals and transplanted foreigners working in Macau go to get away from it all - hilly terrain and an expanse of natural greenery with views of the South China Sea. Less than a hundred years ago, Coloane was still a haven for pirates. There are nice beaches, hiking trails, even a decent golf course here, but the main attraction has to be the village, a picturesque symbol of a fast-disappearing lifestyle.

Coloane Village, in the southwestern tip of the island, is a five-minute drive and a universe away from Cotai. Just down the road from the A-Ma Cultural Village lies Coloane Village and its readily identifiable centre, a small town square surrounded by a collection of old buildings that fall into the category charitably known as ramshackle architecture. Food detectives will know this area well, because just off the square is a mecca for lovers of Portuguese egg tarts - otherwise known as Lord Stow's Bakery.

The bakery, which bills itself as the "creator of the egg tart now famous throughout Asia", remains caught in a time warp. Perhaps that well-aged look is what helps to make its egg tarts, bread and other pastries taste so good. Whatever the reason, there's nothing quite like munching on a freshly baked tart while wandering the village streets, with the morning sun on your face, a gentle breeze in the air, and thoughts of returning the next day for more of the same.

For a moment, the Cotai Strip seems just that much further away.

Photos by Geoffrey Eu

btnews.sph.com.sg

This article was first published in The Business Times on September 13, 2008.