Turning Macanese

I left for jfk at 6am Thursday, Thanksgiving morning and after journey by car, plane, train, taxi, ferry and bus, I ended up in Macau 6am Friday (7pm local time) at what might be the world’s most over-the-top Sofitel, shiny and garish, only three months old. Macau is completely out-Vegasing Vegas. Before passing out from exhaustion, we did take a quick peek at the on-site casino. With the exception of the Eastern European entertainment, i.e. girls in skimpy sequin costumes dancing to Cher, we were the only non-Asians in the house. It’s a weird scene.

I’m losing hope that we will get to Thailand tomorrow on our re-booked flight, or ever. Contingency plan looks like we’ll eat the cost and buy new tickets to Singapore Monday.

The only upside so far is that today I can get suckling pig at Fernando’s, which proved impossible on my last visit to Macau, only a day trip. Oh, and that I captured a lovely vomit scene during The Constant Gardener on the plane (yes, I chose that movie from the 100+ films on offer. I can’t watch comedies on planes—I prefer involved dramatic things I normally would never watch because it makes the time go by faster). Things are looking up.

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