The Venetian’s Big Draw
The Cotai Strip, home to resorts like The Galaxy, City of Dreams and the larger-than-life Venetian, is ever expanding, and given the spate of new buildings flying up, it doesn’t look like its going to stop growing anytime soon. Passing construction sites, you see advertised many world-class casinos and hotels that will soon take residence. Macau, the Las Vegas of the East, is soaring as a top gambling Asian destination, filled with luxury, opulence and a unique fusion of East and West.
From the outside, the massive resorts look empty – a barren wasteland of glittering lights, a monument to avarice. Only the never-ending parade of buses carrying eager tourists hints at the action going on at the tables behind the neon-lit walls. But once the sliding doors close behind you, you’re taken in by the flashing beams, clanging bells and the palpable adrenaline in the air that undulates through the casinos.
The Venetian alone houses 3,000 suites and roughly 10,000 staff members to service your every possible need, which might include a motorised gondola ride down one of the canals, complete with serenading gondolier, of course. Cirque du Soleil performers mill about the hallways, simply there to entertain the shoppers as they lay down the big bucks at one of the 330 designer shops. The Venetian stocks its stores and spaces with such variety that it is safe to say visitors would never have an actual need to venture out of the mammoth complex. And some don’t. The lure of gambling, shopping, entertainment and buffets proves to be too tempting, but there’s more to it than just what you see on the surface.
As I browsed the shops, I overheard a couple discussing how casinos manipulate the air quality to make people stay longer and spend more. Initially, I laughed off the idea, but after a weekend of gambling, I started to wonder if there wasn’t some truth to what they said. According to Sudkir Kale, a marketing professor at Australia’s Bond University and casino consultant, “With the right combination of scents and music, it is possible to influence people to stay longer, buy more or consume more.” Furthermore, there’s even talk of injecting the scents of jasmine tea and cooked rice into the air to make Macau gamblers feel more at home. And these preferred scents will also stimulate childhood memories, ensuring that high rollers and penny chasers will stick close by at all times – even when venturing out for a bite to eat.
As I walked through the floors of the casino, it wasn’t just my nose that was twitching. Screams of joy and heartache buzz around you, filling your ears with the highs and lows of gambling. At any given table, it is normal to see tens of thousands of Hong Kong dollars worth of chips won and lost like it's play money. The actual amounts that the Mainland Chinese tourists play with are astounding. As I thumbed my lone chip, equal to a measly HKD 100, I felt embarrassed, unable to walk up and lay the friendless coin on the felt amongst all those piles of cash. I opted to cash it in for smaller stacks and try my luck among one of the many slot machines. Without the judgmental camaraderie of the tables, my party of one could celebrate or mourn – depending on how the Macanese gods of gambling looked upon me.
I will be the first to admit, gambling to me has a shelf life. When I lose, I lose and I am not one to push my luck. My grandma, an avid gambler, can read machines as if they call out to her. I decided to follow in her path and put my feelers out. I walked through the mass of machines and people, peeping over shoulders (they too gamble with large sums). I saw it, the lonely machine near the currency exchange booth that no one patronised; I felt a kindred spirit. After feeding it my HKD 100 note, I pressed a few buttons and lost; sad music ensued. I pressed my luck again and instead of the sad music, I received bells, lights and happy music. I had actually won! Not much, but winning is still winning. I repeated the same action; the hoopla came again. A small crowd had formed, with fellow gamblers cheering me on and eagerly awaiting my fate. By the end of our relationship, the machine and I had a small nest egg. Like any non-gambler, I quit while I was a head (to the dismay of the crowd, of course) and cashed out.
Where to Stay:
The Venetian is also home to the Four Seasons, but to find the luxury hotel you will need the assistance of a map, given the sheer magnitude of the complex. After spending (and possibly losing) a month’s rent at the roulette tables, gamblers looking for a place to lay their head can take comfort in the fact that their hotel is only a stone’s throw away. Once in the safety of their hotel room, they can collapse into their high-thread-count sheets and catch up on the time they lost in the windowless, clockless casino. The rooms reflect a kind of neo-classical elegance that incorporates lush tones and fabrics. The idea being that you deserve to be taken care of after your strenuous day of trading in your chips.