The Venetian Macao-Resort-Hotel is the ultimate in fantasy living.
When reality is as bleak as it is right now (at the time of writing this, the Sensex has tanked a nice 1,000 points), retreating from it, even briefly, into a make-believe world of plenty feels just right. The Venetian Macao-Resort-Hotel in Macau is all that and more. As the rest of the world suffered from collapsing stock markets, a liquidity crisis and the possibility of a long and hard recession, those of us at Macau were as if in another world where these realities rarely intruded.
The only truth that we knew for the day and a half that we stayed buried deep inside The Venetian was that if your spirit was willing, it was possible to gamble round the clock under the bright lights of the hotel’s casino with free, round-the-clock beverages on offer to keep you well hydrated. Folklore (and there are many legends about this hotel) has it that the hotel management pumps in oxygen in the casino as the night wanes to keep the gamblers energised and playing.
Since Macau liberalised its gambling policy, it now has the highest-volume gambling centre in the world, beating even Las Vegas at its own game. A cursory look at the endless gaming tables, slot machines and people playing with steely determination and fat wads of notes in their hands at The Venetian confirmed that statistic.
The Venetian, like its sister hotel in Las Vegas, is a destination in itself. So complete is it in what it offers to its visitors that one scarcely need leave its gigantic environs. It’s a bit like the song “Hotel California”, where “you can check in any time you like, but you can never leave”. The Venetian’s website says modestly that it is “large enough to hold ninety Boeing 747 jumbo jets.”
When you check in, along with the key, the staff are kind enough to give you a map of the hotel so that you are never lost — which is a very real problem. But even if you are lost, you will inevitably find your way to some corner of the casino. When the hotel (can it even be called just a mere hotel?) opened in 2007, it was the second-largest building in the world. Now it is the third-largest. But the hotel’s vastness isn’t its only USP.
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In The Venetian, such is the hold of make-believe that one is constantly challenged to separate fact from fiction. In what is called St Mark’s Square (modelled on the one in Venice), which houses some of the toniest brands, there is a man-made canal complete with gondolas and gondoliers who sing lustily as you glide along happily. Striking a more surreal note is the “sky” above the Square.
The sky is artificially created, and changes subtly, making it impossible to tell at any point of time if it is day or night or even what weather it is outside. A person loses all touch with time, day and date. Like on Italian streets, there are mimes, real people who pretend to be statues and change their pose only when they are tipped. At one end of the Square are eating places with chairs laid out on the piazza, just the way it is in the original St Mark’s Square.
If gambling isn’t your thing, which it wasn’t with me, The Venetian makes pretty darn sure that you still don’t go wandering off. So there is the Cirque du Soleil with its spectacular show “Zaia”, which keeps you absolutely spell-bound and on the edge of your seat with great performances, imagery and technical wizardry.
As you walk out of the Cirque performance awed with what human beings can do with two arms, two legs and one mouth (standard apparatus for most humans), if you still feel (as our group of four did) like stepping out to explore old Macau, it is only five minutes away from The Venetian.
There is no longer any trace of the Chinese mafia visible to the naked eye (the most fierce-looking people this writer spotted were a bunch of middle-aged bikers eating their dinner quietly in the old part of town). The mafia once ruled the streets of this city. Now, the old part retains some of its charm and Portuguese architecture.
A day in an ordinary life is pretty humdrum. A day and a half at The Venetian is like being put into a blender and whisked out of shape, so difficult is it to keep in touch with anything mundane and ordinary. And, although many people who visit Macau leave after spending a weekend or less there, The Venetian could make the lyrics of the song “Hotel California” come true. We were lucky enough to leave with our shirts still on.
