Bartering At Hong Kong Street Markets, Or Bleep You! (Continued)
Of course, as at all street markets in Asia, bartering is a must. At least if you don’t want to overpay for the cheap goods you buy. Which brings us to our tale and brings my friend Ann back into the journey. Ann, her friend Char, and I had been in Bangkok and decided to take a few days out to see the sights of Hong Kong. Now Ann had really gotten into bartering at the street markets of Bangkok. It’s good fun and everyone, both seller and customer alike, are out for enjoyment (besides making a buck or getting something for a song). Typically, in Bangkok, the asking price is way over inflated, you offer a ridiculously low price in return, the merchant tells you about her sick grandma, you plead poverty . . . and it goes back and forth until a bargain is struck.

Not so in Hong Kong, as Ann discovered. We visited Temple Street to see the sights, and for Ann to purchase a calculator (great tool for shopping in a place where English may not be spoken . . . like Honk Kong . . . for a British Colony it's down right amazing how many of the natives don't speak English). A new friend we made in Bangkok, typical of a Thai, borrowed hers and never returned it. After visiting several stalls and trying them out, she found the calculator of her dreams. “How much?” she asked the vendor. “100 HK Dollars!” was his curt reply. (Hk Chinese don’t hold Americans in high regard to begin with, and a woman??? Ha!)

Ann smiled and quickly came back with her Bangkok based offer,”10 HK Dollars!”

Yikes!

“Bleep You!, Bleep YOU!” he shouted, face contorted in rage. The look on Ann’s face was priceless (mmmmm, may be a MasterCard ad in there). She backed quickly away from the stall, totally bewildered.

He’d offered her the calculator at about US$12.00. She’d countered at a price slightly over a buck. It probably would have sold for about 80 HK dollars, or ten dollars U.S. In Bangkok, this would have been a fine beginning exchange. In Hong Kong, however, they have a bit more reverence for money. She would have known this if she’d checked her Frommers.

Maybe those guide books have a use afterall!

Gambling With Gambling In Macau, or Placing Your Fate In Other’s Hands
Before we dispense with Ann, and leave Hong Kong, let’s take a day trip across the harbor to Macau. Now a special administrative region of the people’s Republic of China (same as Hong Kong) Macau used to be a Portuguese protectorate, kinda like Hong Kong was with Britain. Located on the Southeast coast of China, Macau may be now firmly back in China’s orbit, but the Portuguese patina on this Sino-Lusitanian Las Vegas makes it a most unusual Asian destination. It has always been overshadowed by its glitzy near-neighbor Hong Kong - which is precisely why it’s so attractive.

Macau’s pleasures are relaxed and laidback, architectural and atmospheric: narrow cobbled alleys, grand baroque churches, balconied colonial mansions, open plazas and Mediterranean-style cafes filled with palm-readers, caged birds and pipe-smokers. And then there are the casinos!

We’d decided to take a trip over for the day, partially out of boredom and partially because Ann has a thing about getting stamps in her passport. Ann also has a thing about taking mass transit modes of transportation in foreign cities (I opt for taxi cabs). We started our journey from the port in Hong Kong, taking a jetfoil for the roughly hour long trip. Did I mention Ann gets sea sick? Easily? Well, she rebounded quickly this time and after clearing customs she took the lead. And bypassed the long line of taxis. Right to the busses.

We only had half a day in Macau and there were a few sights I wanted to see, besides visiting a casino. Nope. We rode the bus. To its endpoint where the non-English speaking bus driver finally got through to us we’d have to get off. In the middle of nowhere. And then walked for miles until we found a cab, who took us back to where we’d started. I think Ann figured out I was irritated. If not, since I’m still fuming about it here, she’ll finally figure it out.

Well we finally got to a casino, the Lisboa, and that’s where this tale was going (but wasn’t that journey fun?). Now I’d grown up visiting casinos in Reno and Lake Tahoe, and love to play blackjack. Figuring 21 adds up the same in Chinese or Portuguese as it does in English, I was ready to hit the tables. The first thing you notice about a Chinese casino is the quiet. Remember the Temple Street vendor? Well, Chinese gamblers have the same attitude . . . it’s about money, and it’s serious business. The next thing you notice is that many of the table games are strange . . . good luck figuring them out by watching the players. But there were blackjack tables, so I felt at home and picked a third base seat when one came available.

And quickly discovered that even this American game had a Chinese tilt to it. The game is played the same. What differs is the betting. Not yours. The guy’s standing behind you. Huh? Well, in Macau all of the players hands in blackjack are up for grabs. If someone else wants to place a larger bet than you have, he can take control of your hand. And if that doesn’t suck, it gets worse! The higher wager player doesn’t kick you out of the way (nor do you get to take your wager back). Nope, he tells you how to play your cards! Wasn’t sure if it was my small bets, or a chance to stick it to an American, but the few hands I played were all taken over by someone else. And for as much as Chinese love to gamble, they really aren’t very skilled at it.

Lesson Learned? Whether it’s a bus or playing blackjack . . . don’t leave the driving to someone else.

Ramble On . . .

Mosey On Back . . .

Entrance To The Rabbit Hole . . .

SIGHTS OF:

Hong Kong

Macau