As I wrote in my last post, our trip to Macau was a last minute thing, and as a result we didn’t check the weather. As I was about to leave the house I opened the cupboard, looked at my raincoat, thought “Nah!” and headed for the airport. What I had forgotten was that though late July is the height of summer in Macau, it’s also the typhoon season.

After our first day was spent returning to the mainland for money and coming back again, we were looking forward to escaping the clanging, garish inferno of the Cotai casinos and seeing some of the historic sights. Macau was taken over by Portuguese traders in 1557, and has a rich legacy of colonial architecture, which unlike that of (for example) Manila, was left relatively unscathed by the tumult of the 20th century.

We began our exploration at the Guia Fortress and lighthouse. Anything military is bound to enthuse my children more than another temple or museum, and we were particularly fascinated by the typhoon warning system still in use there. Various shapes constructed of metal strips are suspended from a mast-like structure, and can be seen across the whole peninsula. The “T” shape indicating a level 3 typhoon was missing, and we later realized it was hanging outside.

Typhoon warning signals at Guia Lighthouse. Where’s the level 3 signal?

Oh look, there it is.

“Does that mean there’s going to be a typhoon?” my son asked me.

“Only level 3,” I said. “It’s only when they get to level 8 that you have to worry.”

Words that were to come back to haunt me.

Our next stop was the Tap Seac Art Gallery. At the time of our visit it was hosting the Japanese contribution to the Macau international art exhibition. We asked the guard where the other galleries were.

“All across the city,” he said, “but maybe you don’t know there’s a typhoon coming? Very serious, level 8. As soon as you’ve gone I’m going to start barricading the gallery. You should get somewhere safe.”

We left the gallery to see the inverted T still visible on the hilltop, and no obvious signs of panic. I decided we would go to see the ruins of St. Paul’s, since we were so close. Only the facade of this 17th century cathedral still stands, but the extraordinary carvings by Japanese craftsmen make it the symbol of the city.

The facade of St. Paul’s, with the wind whipping up…

By this time though the wind was beginning to howl, and so were my increasingly anxious children. We walked down to the main road to see shopkeepers piling sandbags in the doorways and pulling down shutters. As we were staying in Coloane, we needed to cross the bridge to the island, or be stranded on the wrong side of the water. At the bus stops we encountered a chaotic crush, and in the confusion we got on the wrong bus, had to get off again, watched the bus direct to our hotel leave as it was too crowded to get on, and finally got one which at least took us to the nearby casino. We discovered later we were on one of the last buses to cross before the bridge was closed.

When we got off the bus though I decided that it was all a fuss over nothing, and instead of waiting for the bus to our hotel, I led the family into Studio City. This is yet another complex surrounding a casino, but promised amusements such as VR games and a trampoline park. So I gave the kids some money and they went off to discover that everything was closed because the staff had gone home early, while my wife and I enjoyed what might be the best cocktails we have ever sampled.

It was tough surviving the typhoon, but somehow we struggled through

Japanese art was to come to the boys’ rescue; a row of classic arcade games such as Space Invaders and Pacman formed part of a display of Japanese culture and was free to play. So we had quite a pleasant time of it, until we decided it was time to head back to the hotel. At this point I realized that neither the shuttle buses nor public buses were running, and that a huge and bad-tempered crowd had been waiting for a taxi for three hours.

An air of quiet desperation was settling over the casinos, as those who weren’t staying there slowly realized that they might be staying there after all. People wandered around aimlessly or started bedding down in corners. We were able to pass from one casino to another along covered walkways, but there was no way of traveling the three kilometers back to our hotel.

So I decided we were going to walk. It was crazy, but realistically neither the wind nor rain were particularly severe by this point, and we were picked up halfway by a driver who indignantly refused any payment for dropping us at our door. “It’s dangerous,” he said, simply.

I make light of all this, but of course I know typhoons are no laughing matter. I am glad for the people of Macau and the region that this storm passed relatively without incident, and nobody was seriously hurt in the city. We blundered through it cocooned in a bubble of luck, stupidity, and white privilege, and I would advise anyone else visiting to be more mindful of the warnings than we were.

There is much to enjoy in Macau for families. There are museums, churches, and parks… even a beach. So escape from the trap of the casinos and shopping malls, and get exploring. But stay safe.

The Grand Lisboa looms over the old town in the gathering storm

Photos: Karen Killeen, Andrew Killeen

Our decision to go to Macau for a few days was a last minute one. It had long been on our list of places to see while we are in Asia, but with a couple of weeks left of the summer vacation after a long trip, idle browsing revealed that it’s quite cheap to travel there in late July. We were to find out why.

Despite the short notice, I carried out some research before we left: googling “what to know when traveling to Macau with kids” turned up nothing to cause any concern. So we were surprised when we landed at Macau International Airport and found out that we couldn’t draw any money out of the ATM.

Changing money in advance and traveling with a stack of cash seems risky and redundant these days, with the global banking network allowing you to access your money almost anywhere. (Although we did take Euros when visiting Ireland recently, as there are virtually no Unionpay ATMs in the country). Most places we just rock up and take out money when we arrive. What no one had warned us is that to draw cash from a Chinese bank account in Macau requires a Chinese ID card… which we, of course, don’t have.

This failed to show up on any websites I looked at because they assume you will be taking money from an American or European account, which is no problem. We asked at the information desk, and were told that our only option was to cross back over to the mainland, draw out RMB there, bring it across, then change it into the local currency.

After a long flight, my wife was almost in tears at this prospect. So we decided to try going to a bank with our passports and pleading. Here, we learned another useful lesson, which is that it’s possible to travel around Macau mostly for free, by taking advantage of the hotels’ shuttle buses. Nobody checks, or cares, whether you are staying at that hotel; they want you visiting them in the hope you will spend money in their shops and casinos. So we hopped onto a bus and headed for The Venetian.

Gambling is of course the reason most people visit Macau, the slot games casino on there is par with Vegas, and despite the local government’s efforts to diversify the economy, it’s still the biggest game in town. Macau is sometimes known as “the Vegas of Asia” — but in fact it’s bigger than Vegas. Most of the casinos aren’t in Macau itself. The Special Autonomous Region (SAR) also includes two islands to the south of the Macau peninsula, Taipa and Coloane. 20 years ago the straits between them were filled in, joining them into a single landmass and creating a new district called Cotai. And on this newly created land is where you’ll find developments on a staggering scale.

Hey, we’re in Venice! Sort of…

The Venetian is a replica, in miniature, of Venice itself, complete with canals, gondolas, and the Piazza San Marco. It’s the oldest and best known of the Cotai casino complexes, which include The Parisian (with Eiffel Tower) and soon The Londoner. The casino lies at its heart, but for obvious reasons children aren’t allowed, so we were forced to walk through a shopping mall with an artificial sky.

The bank were not swayed by our pleading, so we boarded another shuttle bus and headed for the border. The bus took us across the bridge to Macau proper, and north to the Portas de Cerco. This is a sight in itself: with a 19th century arch still standing from the old border crossing, which during the Cold War was known as “the East Asian Checkpoint Charlie.” On the Chinese side it’s known as the Gongbei Port of Entry, processing 100 million visitors a year, and a tedious place to have to pass through twice in a single day (having already left China once).

So if you visit Macau, be sure to bring some RMB with you (and change it to Hong Kong dollars if you want to gamble, rather than Macanese pataca. HKD are accepted everywhere on a one-to-one basis, except in the casinos, where you only get HKD 1 for MOP 1.03). But my advice would be to avoid, the garish, tacky excesses of Cotai, and appreciate the quieter charms of the old city. Although preferably not during a typhoon, like we did… which will be the subject of my next post.

Photos: Karen Killeen, Andrew Killeen