Macau

Macau The Jetstar Airbus 320 flight, brand new, arriving from Singapore, after about three hours of flying lands at the strange Macau airport, an ex-Portuguese colony. I say strange because here, on the piece of land the Portuguese conquered, which is very little, they had to cram in the housing; a bit like Hong Kong, they all went upwards with very tall buildings. To attract people to this Portuguese overseas atoll, many casinos were built for gambling, so the addicts spend their time indoors ruining themselves. Yes, I say, because the one who really wins is only the one who goes, wins and then leaves with the money in his pocket, not the one who reuses it to carry on. The airport is strange because, if you look at it carefully, it was built on the sea and is connected to the parking area by two bridges, one to get there and one to leave.

Practically a bit like Genoa or Osaka, but this one is really ugly and old. Viva Air and Air Macau are the two local airlines; at one time TAP Air Portugal also flew in from Lisbon, but no longer. Donato, Luca and I step down from the plane's gangway, taking the usual slap of humidity and heat, and hurry inside where there's air conditioning, where we find out what transport to use to go into the centre of Macau. There's a bus in ten minutes. I see that the outside of the airport, which is on an island cut off from the mainland, is in the middle of the city; every spot has been taken up by a building. I see that the road signs are written half in Chinese and half in Portuguese.

We set off on the packed bus and I realise how much concrete there is here; we reach the big bridge that links to the mainland, and down there on the left I see that casino hotels are under construction, photocopies of the ones in Las Vegas: the Stardust, the MGM, and even the famous volcano that stands in front of the Mirage in Las Vegas. Here they hold a Formula 3000 Grand Prix in the city, and the road is the circuit; who knows what chaos there'll be on race day. Only 28 square km and about 600,000 inhabitants; now that it's returned to China, more Chinese is spoken than Portuguese. Here, would you believe it, there are 17,310 people per square km, just like little ants. We get off at the big terminal for the boats and catamarans that depart in many directions; we buy our tickets and go up, the four of us and more, onto the one leaving for Hong Kong.

It's gigantic, it leaves almost immediately and passes under the big bridge, about an hour of travel. I don't think I'll go to Macau again: too much concrete, too many people. The only positive thing about this trip to Macau was the stamp in my passport. Bye