Macau's thriving gambling industry

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By Misha Gleny BBC News, Macau

Gambling may be outlawed in most of China but the one place the Chinese can go for a wager is a former Portuguese territory in the south of the country.

The Grand Lisboa is the latest in a string of super casinos in MacauI cannot quite remember whether it was the Vino Tinto - perhaps you know the sort, slightly gruff and moody but heart-warming nonetheless.

Or maybe it was the outrageously sensuous and fickly-named Serradura, a pudding so seductive it would have broken laws in any other incarnation.

Either way I finished my meal at La Lorcha with the conclusion that if you are looking for an authentic culinary experience that hits every spot in the stomach and still has pretensions to being healthy, it has to be Portuguese.

After supper, I walked through the Avenidas and Estradas past the Dom Pedro V Theatre and the various monasteries while catching, I thought, a slight hint of southern Europe's perfumed air.

And then I saw the egg - an electronic egg. No, an electronic Faberge egg.

Again - an electronic Faberge egg that was 100 feet tall and still greater in girth.

"Welcome," it greeted me in tens of millions of flashing pixels, "to the Hotel Lisboa!"

Into the yoke

My reverie ended abruptly - I was not in some gentle paradise on the Algarve.

I was on a peculiar little territory, Macao, which has just overtaken Las Vegas as the world's number one earner from legal gambling joints.

And the Faberge Hotel Lisboa is the latest in a string of super casinos that have exploded here since communist China reclaimed the peninsula from the former colonial power Portugal in 1999.

Along with thousands of others, I am propelled into the egg's very yoke.

After a quick security check, I am greeted by extravagant jugglers and a giant caterpillar which performs amusing tricks.

Behind them I see the first tables offering Big Small, a barely comprehensible dice game, Blackjack and a weird form of poker.

In the basement, the slot machines make their first appearance and I pass one man laughing hysterically as his machine vomits thousands of tokens into his awaiting lap.

The atmosphere puts me in mind of the surreal characters in the bar scene from the first Star Wars movie.

New image

The new Hotel Lisboa was the idea of Stanley Ho, the 85-year-old billionaire whose Society of Macau Gaming enjoyed a monopoly from Portugal's colonial authorities for four decades.

Mainland Chinese can now nip over the border to the casinosHis old Lisboa with its much dingier, smoky atmosphere where brawls were never far away symbolised the seedy crime-ridden life of this small peninsula of southern China.

But that image is changing.

A huge flashing advertisement in English and Chinese - not Portuguese - announced that the American gaming firm MGM Mirage is looking to recruit croupiers, dealers, doormen and entertainers for its new casinos.

Because in 2001, the communist Chinese decided not to close down the gaming industry - as might have happened in times past - but to expand it through liberalisation.

Mr Ho lost his monopoly and it was not long before the fat cigars like MGM arrived on the tiny island from Las Vegas.

Stanley Ho had to move with the times and plans for the Faberge egg were laid.

Macao's gambling revenue in 2006 weighed in at a massive £3.6bn - about £100m more than Las Vegas.

Along with the liberalisation, the boom is being fuelled by the charge of mainland Chinese who can now zip over the border and fritter away their hard won yuan in a night or two of wanton excess.

Unrestrained capitalism

Inside the egg, apart from the Russian "dancers" as they are described on their visas, I was one of about five non-Asians among thousands of people.

This frenzy is not fuelled by Western tour operators but by the region itself.

And when the Chinese gamble, it is not just the occasional flutter - it is industrial.

I am left with a deep sense that this culture of mega-gambling is tasteless But until now they have had real difficulties finding anywhere legal to indulge their habit.

Macau and communist China's fanatical commitment to unrestrained capitalism have changed this fundamentally.

It is hard not to sound pompous but I can only lament the steady disappearance of Macau's unique cultural fusion of the Mediterranean and southern Chinese which exudes a quiet elegance.

Super casinos may be glitzy, they may make stacks of cash for the owners and tax collectors but after an evening wandering around assaulted by lights, bells, buzzers, and various inducements, I am left with a deep sense that this culture of mega-gambling is tasteless, soulless, cheerless and mindless.

From Our Own Correspondent was broadcast on Thursday, ! March, 2007 at 1100 GMT on BBC Radio 4. Please check the <a HREF="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/from_our_own_correspondent/3187926.stm">programme schedules </a> for World Service transmission times.